Tips on Tuesday: Filling the Well

Easy as A, B, C . . . from BB

When I taught full time in Utah’s high schools, I would be completely drained by the end of the school year — my experience is that most teachers were the same. Often I was the drama director, the debate coach, and I taught several English classes, or Special Ed., or Humanities, or . . . whatever. I was usually lucky enough to be able to sleep through most of June.

But eventually I woke up. And, while not sleepy, I still felt drained. All my creativity, my get up and go, had gotten up and GONE . . . What I needed then was more sustenance. I needed to fill up my well to even think about heading into another school year. Sometimes, I had classes I needed to take. Always, I tried to catch up on some reading. And ALWAYS, I turned to theatre. Theatre where I wasn’t “in charge.”

I went to Logan for the Opera Season. I went to Cedar City to see the 3 Shakespearean shows of the year, and the three plays or musicals they presented in that same season. Then I found out about the original play program. Writers would submit new original play manuscripts. They were read by Fred Adams and a few of his cohorts, and, generally, three scripts would be chosen to be produced as “play readings.” Well into their season, in August, they would have author #1 come to Cedar City for a week, see a staged reading of his or her play, listen to comments from the professional actors and the director, often do a lot of re‑writing, and by Friday, see another staged reading with an audience. The audience was then included in the critiquing.

During the second week August week, playwright #2 would go through the same routine. In the third week, playwright #3 would appear. As a “final” performance, during the fourth week in August, play numbers 1, 2, and 3 would be performed again on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.

In time, this became my favorite time at the Shakespeare Festival. To be a part of the collaborative effort to give birth to three new, original plays was generally the highlight of my summer. I would return to school with new ideas, new plays to contemplate, plus all the “old” standards. And I would be excited to share what I’d learned over the summer with my next group of students.

As writers in a solitary, and often lonely world, we need to renew our energies as well. When you’ve given all you can to the story which is broiling in your mind, it’s time to re‑call and re‑fine that excitement. I call that “filling the well.”

How do you “fill the well” when you feel you’ve run dry? I think all writers write and read. But what else? Live theatre and live interaction with real people of a like mind do it for me. What ideas do YOU have to fill that well? Please share in comments — we all need some new well‑filling ideas every now and again!

See you next for Thinkin’ on Thursday!

Monday Moans: Paper, Paper, Everywhere and Not a Page to Ink!

East as A, B, C . . . from BB

I can’t find any paper clips. Well, to be honest there are a couple of those little ones lying around, but I like the nice big ones better. Not that I’m usually clipping together pages and pages of materials, but I just like the longer length of them. I feel my papers are more . . . secure?

And why this seeming paucity of paper clips? Well, they’re holding together the multiple copies of the pages I took to my Friday critique group: the Wasatch Mountain Fiction Writers (WMFW]. And they’re holding together the pages I took to the ABC Writers Guild critique session on Sunday night. And some are still clipped to the critiques I got at WIFYR [Writing and Illustrating for Young Writers]. Last June! And I’m afraid to admit that I have some groups of papers still clipped together from much longer ago that those.

I’ve got paper clips on groups of papers from last year. And the year before that. And . . . well, you’ve probably got the idea. Mind you, I heard and/or read all the critiques. But you never know when you might want to look them over again. I’ll stop wanting that last, fond look (because some of them did point out some of the positive things about my writing) when the book(s) is/are published. Until then, you never can tell . . .

And what about the paper itself? If it still has a clean side, I could reuse it. I believe in saving paper. So I’d have to take the paper clips off, sort through them. I’m getting more and more paranoid about my garbage having identifying information in it, so I’d have to take the time to shred them. And my shredder is jammed. Again. Maybe I could use a paper clip to unjam it. Oh, wait. I haven’t got a nice, long paper clip anywhere around.

All right, back to the “paper itself” thing. Some of those pages were used on both sides, but some of them might have had a half sheet that was still white. I could tear them in half (or even use my paper cutter), tear the half in half, giving me some nice little quarter sheets, convenient for writing down plot ideas, snatches of conversation, telephone messages, phone numbers, etc., etc., etc.

But, again, I’d have to sort through it all.

Admittedly I need to sort through it all. I have paper grocery bags around my desk: papers to shred (once I unjam the shredder); papers to sort; papers to add to the recyclables (after I’ve sorted through for re‑usable sheets . . . and half sheets . . . and quarter sheets). (And sorted through for paper clips!)

But right now, I have to run off some copies for my next critique session. If only I had some half‑used sheets of paper, so I don’t have to break into another clean ream. But if I find some paper, then I’ll need to find some paper clips!

Help! I’m drowning in paper. And not an unused paper clip in sight!

See you day-after-tomorrow for Wednesday’s WIPs!

Monday Moans: Fighting a Losing Battle

Easy as A, B, C . . . from BB

My husband, transplanted from Alabama only about a year-and-a-half ago, keeps complaining about Utah’s weather.  Mind you, he was actually born in Salt Lake.  Twenty years at sea level with the United States Navy, followed by work in Texas, California, Alabama, etc.,  made him “un-used” to the altitude and he had trouble breathing when he arrived.

Luckily, that first winter was mild, he eventually became more accustomed to the rarity of air, and the summer was mostly pretty pleasant.  And we spent much of it traveling around the state.

Then came the winter.  Coldest, most miserable we’ve had in years.  To say nothing of the lethal pollution levels—worst in the U.S. multiple days?  What’s with that?

Well, thank goodness, spring finally arrived.  And disappeared again—which day was that, again?—only to leave us with a scorcher of a summer—and, at this writing, it’s still JUNE!  Well, OK, it’ll be July in the morning when you read this.  But what’s with this heat?  This past week we were in Cedar City, then St. George, to see plays at the Shakespeare Festival and one at Tuacahn.  118 degrees???

Thank the heavens we could come back to Salt Lake where it was only 104 or 105!

I keep telling him Utah has a pretty temperate climate.  But he ain’t buyin’ it.  I’m fighting a losing battle here.

See you day-after-tomorrow for Wednesday’s WIPs!