Every single one of us has, in individual ways, access to pieces of the creativity we need for art, and for living. Of course we must be open to gaining that access. It takes quiet moments. It takes listening and paying attention and, in today’s noisy, connected world, this kind of listening doesn’t come easily. (Probably was easier for Thoreau than it is for us today.)

Seems to me living itself is an act of discovery, so we might as well call it creative discovery.  Therefore, our “ah-ha” moments are actually discovering bits of creation, however you define that word, that were always there, but we just got around to opening up some of those that fit us and our need at the moment.

As a writer, I can certainly identify with what Garrison Keilor says, “Writing is an act of discovery.”  David Hare amplified that by saying: “The act of writing is the act of discovering what you believe.”

That’s really interesting–or it is to me, anyway.  By writing, I uncover dormant ideas, even discover what I really think.  And, since I’ve written both fiction and non-fiction, I will attest that this is true for all creative writing.  Fact or fiction, essays, poetry, mystery writing–all contain words of discovery.

You can’t develop an idea if you haven’t thought it (or discovered it) first, and that usually takes a degree of quiet inside. Some say their best ideas come in the shower, or while wakeful during the night. Certainly those are quiet times, or at least times when our attention isn’t captivated by something external.  Rather than being a mindless activity like rubbing on soap, or a frustrating time like failing at counting sheep, why not engage thought in something more productive?

You can call it what you want. Meditation? Prayer?  For me, it’s prayer, and my prayer is putting myself in the hands of what I acknowledge to be the true creative force.

Whatever your core beliefs, isn’t it great to be able to tune into a creative force?  What do you think?

http://www.RadinesBooks.com

And, here’s another “problem.”  Are you yearning  to see some personal, you-created project through the birthing process and into the public eye?  Well yes, that, too, whether you’re starting a new business, finishing a painting, building a shelf, helping a child build with LEGOs, extending comfort to a fellow human, or putting “The End” on a manuscript and hoping it will become a book.

Well, what if your project isn’t working out?  It’s just too hard, and you’re discouraged.  (Or, I am?)

So, now what? Give up, sit in a corner and cry or rage?  Turn your back on the whole thing and just plod through each day?  What?

I say it’s time to “free the angel.”

These words come from what Michelangelo is supposed to have said when someone asked him about his creative process:  “I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”

Sounds like he trusted that the angel (or whatever) was there. So, what about your angel?

I say every human populating the globe has the creative ability–the angel–inside. Imagine Michelangelo, chipping and chipping away on that block of marble.  What a huge job!  I bet research could tell me how long it took him to find the Pietá, or David, inside those enormous chunks of white marble. (You can do the research if you like, but we acknowledge a lot of time, right?) THEREFORE! Don’t you dare whimper (remember, all this is directed at Radine, too) over the time and hard work it takes to create a viable business, or a painting to suit you and others. To practice sport or dance, help another person meet his or her need, OR, for many readers here, do the writing, editing, selling, and promoting it takes to see shared thoughts go out into the world.  Don’t you dare deny the value of whatever it is your personal creative spark says must come out, be seen, and shared.

Have enough faith in yourself to know it’s there, and it’s yours alone to set free. If you don’t let it loose, the world and all people will be robbed of the value you could have shared.  If even one person gains by what you, (you alone) have found inside and worked to share, well, isn’t that a happy result of your  creative ability?

Yes, it is.  So, let’s get busy chipping.  Free the angel!

BUT, those toys are not what I have in my today toy box. Can you guess what I find in that?

Let’s lift the lid.

On top are those sometimes pesky story books full of imagination. Pesky? If they weren’t, why would I sometimes spend valuable thinking time, day or night, worrying about a person (or animal)  who has gotten themself into an awful pickle, and I don’t know how he or she will get out.  World problems–like  Greek debt or Iran sabre-rattling? The economy? Environmental worries?  No! What’s keeping my thoughts involved is concern for a character in a book I’m reading. And yes, I know the problem I muddle  is imaginary.  But, oh what fun to see a story line squeeze out.  (Think of a toothpaste tube . . .)

There are also problems created in my own fiction writing. They’re less troubling. In fact, they’re the fun part of this particular story book. I enjoy getting people into pickles, then organizing ideas to get them out. THAT kind of entertainment can and does give me pleasure for hours on end.  And it’s one reason fiction writers like me write.  They (we) enjoy creating and solving problems and puzzles. It is nice to be working out a puzzle we know we can solve when, in the “real” world, problems often seem beyond our control.

Digging further, how about this puzzle map of Arkansas? (Or whatever area map you keep in your own toy box.) And, look! Next to the puzzle is my old post card collection. I don’t have map puzzles or post cards depicting what are, to me, exotic, far-away places. These days my dreams stay closer to home, but what fun to find exotic places all around me here!  A cave with ancient petroglyphs? OOh, careful. How could knowledge that those exist cause problems for a character in my story?

How about a police raid on gambling and prostitution dens in “The Spa City” of Arkansas?  What resulting events could have an impact today?

Murder in a ghost-filled hotel built in 1886?  Imagine it.

Archeological treasures lying untouched in the dry caves along Buffalo National River (Arkansas) are now being looted almost as fast as thieves can carry them away.  Story characters intrude by accident.  Another real story lifted from a puzzle board map.

Oh! There’s the rubbed and worn old history game in its shabby box. You know what? When seen on the screen of human experience advancing from then to now (whether “then” is ten thousand or ten years ago), history is loads of fun. We know how the historic stories come out. Happy ending?  Maybe not, but it’s always a learning experience.  It’s said those who ignore what history teaches are bound to repeat it, but it doesn’t follow that it must be bad. I love grabbing past events and shoving them into motivation and insight for life today.

Dictionary? In my toy box? Yes. I love playing with words, moving them around to see how they sound and look in my mind pictures. Do you enjoy this game too?  I have heard many of these words spoken for years, but, if I’ve never written them down,  I’m not sure how to spell them.  When I guess correctly, the dictionary’s affirmation is fun to see.

These are just a small part of the things I enjoy pulling out of my writer’s/reader’s toy box. What do you have in yours?  Or haven’t you realized yet that you have a toy box like this?  (We both know that writing can be a lot of fun. Otherwise, why would we choose it as a career?)

Back to searching  inside my toy box, and . . .  Oh, LOOK!

I’ve just discovered a new book by Hy Brett, an author well-known for his quirky sense of humor.  His latest is “WISHFUL WEDDINGS:  From Casablanca to Titanic, Star-crossed Lovers United at Last.”  (e-book available for most readers. I read it on my Nook.)

Whether Hamlet and Ophelia, Lois Lane and Superman, Perry Mason and Della Street, Nancy Drew and Ned Nickerson, Sam Spade and Brigid O’Shaughnessy,  Mimi and Rudolpho,  or (I told you this was quirky), Barbie and Ken, Brett gives us the happy endings our hearts wished for, no matter what the original plots told us.  Since I know of few people who are as widely read as Hy Brett,  his re-structured happy endings for fifty-six well-known couples give satisfaction for every taste, from “trash?” to literary.  And, there are smiles and giggles throughout.

The endings are written as reports from the happy couples’ local newspapers, whether the New York Times, the Wuthering Heights Evening Breeze, the Metropolis Daily Planet,  the Elsinore Castle Herald-Chronicle, or one of many more.  (Brett knows the format.  Though he wasn’t I suppose, on the wedding beat,  he worked as a newspaper reporter for many years.)  All reports contain  imagined family histories with touches of truth, plus an account of current events.

Here are a few snippets to enjoy:

“Juliet Capulet, the sheltered daughter of Lord and Lady Capulet of fair Verona, was married yesterday to Romeo Montague, the ardent and impetuous son of Lord and Lady Montague, also of Verona  …The ceremony was performed at the Church of the Annunciation by Friar Lawrence.  …  Originally the bride and groom had expressed a strong desire for a moonlight ceremony on their special spot, the balcony outside her bedchamber, but when they, Friar Lawrence, and their immediate families all stepped out upon it for a rehearsal, it immediately crashed to the ground. Rushed to Verona for his estimate of the damage, Papal architect Michelangelo Buonarotti said a new balcony of equal beauty could not possibly be built in time for the nuptual day.

“The bride, 14, studied singing, flirting, and gossiping with her nurse . . .   etc. (Did you know that one of the distinguished ancestors of Lord Capulet was Lord Luciano Capulet who introduced the famous watercraft that still bears the name of his wife, the Lady Gondola . . . ?)

I guess we knew that Barbara Ellen Doll was employed as a model, but did you know that Kenneth Spencer Doll began his modeling career after an injury while playing football for Toyland University put him in the hospital?  A fellow patient at the Massachusetts General Doll Hospital in Boston saw him in a striped orange bathrobe over a pair of blue silk pajamas with yellow hearts, and the resulting photo appeared on the cover of the J.C. Penney catalogue!  (See how much you can learn just having fun?)  By the way, the happy couple required six trunks and twenty-two color-coordinated suitcases to hold garments for their “fun-in-the-sun” honeymoon at the Hawaii Hilton.

Did you know?  Francesca Johnson married Robert Kincaid when she was 55, and a widow?  (Her cooking skills are noted, as well as his photography.) Or that she appeared, briefly, in an “On the Road” segment hosted by Charles Kuralt?

Or that Catherine E. Linton and Heathcliff Walpole had to postpone their honeymoon until a session in the Court of Libel and Slander fairly settled the lawsuit brought by the groom against the West Murdoch Enquirer? The proprietor of that rag had hinted at dark doings in Walpole’s past.  (See the book for delicious details.)

Did you know that Ophelia was a champion swimmer and could not possibly have drowned in a little bitty creek?  Or that, when Clark Kent disappeared with the wedding ring intended for Lois Nancy Lane in her wedding to Superman, Mr. Batman, of Gotham City, retrieved the missing ring?  How about the fact that, after meeting over the grave of Jacob Marley, friendship blossomed into love for Marley’s widow, Fanny, and the honored philanthropist, Sir Ebenezer Scrooge?  Want to read about the nuptials of Sonia Verefskaya and Rodion Raskolnikov?  (Laugh-bringing details of earlier events included.)

There is more, so much more, but I’ve run out of time.  Oh, but, must mention one of my favorites–the wedding of Elizabeth Doolittle and Henry Higgins. There’s a gem. And you learn so much more than the original story told you.

You owe a “time out” to yourself.  Read WISHFUL WEDDINGS by Hy Brett. (It’s a quick read, but even taking time to read one wedding report a day will lift your spirits.)

Enjoy!

I’d enjoyed writing since beginning school, had been editor of a college newspaper, and donated articles here and there,  but I didn’t get going, motivation-wise, until coming to Spring Hollow in the Arkansas Ozarks. That kicked me into writing for publication. I loved this place. Why couldn’t I share it with others who would never see it?

After John and I bought the land at Spring Hollow, ideas for sharing information, inspiration, and stories began bubbling inside me, then popping out on paper. (This was in pre-computer days, unless you’re talking about air-conditioned rooms full of huge beige boxes humming in the basement of the office building where I worked.)

What about you who are reading this? Each writer, each creator, has a somewhat similar story, I imagine. Don’t you know of something in your life that has given you motivation and said: “It’s time to ACT?”

Motivation is not a one-time thing. It has to have enough steam to keep you going through problems, discouragement, set-backs, and outright rejection, whether you’re writing a magazine article, writing a novel, or starting up a new business featuring your own ideas.

Simply said, Spring Hollow helped me learn what Sense of Place means, and I wanted to share that. The rural Ozarks area is beautiful of course. Sometimes I find it so beautiful I can’t take it all in. But, since our own area, even back at the beginning, was rapidly becoming suburban, I realized Spring Hollow as I knew it initially, was doomed. If I wanted to keep this forested landscape and all the varied species of animals and birds that lived here alive,  even in memory, I needed to preserve their stories on paper.

It became a writing challenge to find out if I could construct Spring Hollow in words, and share it with others that way. I believe writing what our senses tell us about a place is better than pictures or virtual reality, because we convey more than sight or sound. We open doors for the reader by allowing him or her to bring their own individual perceptions and experiences into what we share, making the sharing much richer.

The challenge was and is:  Can I be so accurate and honest that what a reader brings to my writing will enhance what I want to give life to in magazines, newspapers, or book pages?

Experience has now told me I have had some success in this. Whether I am writing truth about Spring Hollow (as recorded in my collected essays in DEAR EARTH: A Love Letter from Spring Hollow), or re-creating loved Arkansas areas accurately as a background for fiction (the TO DIE FOR mystery series featuring senior detectives Carrie McCrite and Henry King), people seem to enjoy visits here. Indeed, I hear reports of people coming to Arkansas at least partly because they want to experience in person what I have shared on paper, (or now, in e-books). From the beginning I learned that my experiences here translated happily into the lives of readers, not only in the United States and other English-speaking countries, but in Germany and China as well.

How do I feel about that?  Guess you could call it motivation satisfaction.

So–what motivates you?  Right! Carry on!

Why?  Because in the case of an author, branding means the special niche or type of writing or some other significant continuing quality that readers will find in the work of that author.   Want vampires, or women with peculiar life experiences?  Then think of  CHARLAINE HARRIS.   How about cozy mysteries featuring a sometimes bumbling but very caring ghost?  Try CAROLINE HART.  You all know about what to expect from Stephen King, or Kathy Reichs (“Bones”) or Nora Roberts.  Right?  If you enjoyed one book from these people, the assumption is that you’ll enjoy them all, and that often proves to be the case.

For canned goods or candy bars, motels or restaurants, shirts or shoes, branding of a good product helps build customers.  This is just as true when the product for you to buy and enjoy is written on paper or a screen.

For example:  If you want to learn about the Ozarks and what life is like here,  I suggest  I’m one brand for you to try.  (Learn more at http://www.RadinesBooks.com) Whether in fiction or non-fiction, all my writing is inspired by my love for the Ozarks area, its hills and hollows and forests, its people, its unique caves and geology and . . . . everything else Ozarkian.   You can trust the Ozarks you visit in my writing because extensive research spurred by the mentioned love and appreciation saturate the stories I write, the tales I tell.  And there’s plenty of material here for me, whether I’m writing about gardening or weaving a tale of mystery and adventure.

The history of the Ozarks,  its landscape and tourist attractions, offer fertile ground for mysteries to happen and, indeed, in many areas, real mysteries already have.  My non fiction writing reflects that, and, though the fiction IS fiction as far as most characters and the plot are concerned, you can rely on the locations to be about what you’ll find if you choose to visit them yourself.  (And, many people have after reading stories set there.)

Though I will never be wealthy, I am rich in happy experiences.  Though I will never visit far-away places I once dreamed of seeing, what’s better than discovering the wonderful tourist destinations near home?  And, after all, what’s better than daring to be me, doing what I enjoy, and sharing it with people who find they like the brand.

The idea caught my attention from the beginning and, this year, I contacted bookstores in my area of Arkansas about taking part. Four independent booksellers ended up joining with enthusiasm, bringing in children’s authors, holding special events like in-store  scavenger hunts,  and  story time.

Since the stores are in four different towns, I could only be at one. I presented the TAKE YOUR CHILD TO A BOOKSTORE DAY program for Trolley Line Books in Rogers, AR.

On that day I was afraid few would come since it had been raining, the weather was cold,  and Christmas parades were scheduled in several towns.

Though Trolley line is not a large store, the owner had set up space in a comfortably furnished back room and provided snacks and juice.  The program was scheduled for 10:00, and until almost ten we had one active girl and her grandmother.  I was talking to Chloe (the child) when a bustle from the front of the store interrupted us, and I looked out to see a crowd of people, children with moms and grandmoms flowing toward us.

We ended up with a good-sized group of children ranging in age from five to thirteen, and I wondered how children with such a wide spread of ages would respond to my program.  I soldiered ahead, and began by reading one of my published short stories suitable for children. The two youngest in the group were bored, I think, but their grandmother stayed with them in the room and managed to offer a bit of side entertainment.   From the reading, I moved on to telling a bit of child-oriented information about writing a mystery story. All the older children understood about having a main character, a “mess up” problem for them to solve, and an interesting place for the mess up to happen. I also talked about writing an opening sentence that invites a reader to continue with the story.   After I shared a few more child-size examples,  everyone was given a booklet with blank pages, a clip board, and a pencil.  Most of the children spent a short time thinking, then all but the youngest began to write.  (Grandmother got the two young-uns to do their story by drawing pictures. Bless her!)

There were questions, plus a bit of conversation and discussion during the writing time, but we were all engaged for maybe twenty minutes while a newspaper photographer moved around taking pictures. (He showed up early, and stayed for the entire program.  Distracting, but nice to be noticed–right?)

Now, I’d like to share with you the charming story written by one of the participants. She honored me by giving me her completed story at the end of the program.  (Side note:  The emphasis in many schools today is not necessarily on spelling or punctuation.  That isn’t this child’s fault. Her creativity is awesome, and her opening sentence definitely a hook.  Watch for her touches of humor!)

I present here  Christina Marshall’s story, THE DRAGON  (Written in twenty minutes with no chance for the author to go back and  edit.  Could the average  adult first draft  short-time writer do much better?)

——————————————————————–

The Dragon is gone agian.

My Dragon keep’s geting away. Well I should tell yoo who my Dragon is he is a Dragon and his name is Bod. Bod all was gets away then come’s back for food. I try to keep him here but he keeps geting out and he needs to stay here because he Is not allow to be here because he’s a Dragon and the town is not a big fan of him.

I try to keep him here in my back yard because they try to take him away but I want to keep him. He is a baby a big baby. Here he come’s flying over my house and into my back yard.

He’s a good Dragon but people don’t know him so they are scard of him so when they see him they tell on him and the people will try to kill him but he know’s I willn’t hert him so he come’s to me when he is in troble. When he stays here I feed and give him a bath and keep him warm.

I have been trying to build a big back yard an inside yard well right now I have to feed him and he is geting mad at me because I have not got him something to eat.

By Christina Marshall, 6th grade, White Rock
Congratulations, Christina!  And may you become a best-selling author some day.

I didn’t do it tomorrow–either.

Lack of time?  That’s one very valid excuse. My days are so crammed with writing stories, publicity work,  and contacts with other writers, booksellers, media personnel, plus–of course, the running of a household–that the non-essential blog keeps slipping off the radar.  But I do feel guilty occasionally.

Hello?  If anybody is out there,  I should at least say hello to you occasionally.

A couple of nights ago I went to bed, thinking:  BLOG. TOMORROW.  And, sometime during the night, I remembered all the essays I’d written and sold for many years before I turned to writing mystery fiction.

ESSAY!  The word comes from French “essayer, to try.” That’s to try a whole raft of things from testing for gold, to trying out thoughts.  One of my dictionaries calls the essay an analytic or interpretative literary composition. And I was once so identified with essay writing that, by invitation, I spoke on the topic to several writers’  groups.  That was before anyone had heard the term blog.

So, essays or blogs?  What do you think?  More on the topic coming.

(John Lydgate, written in 1440.)

Ahhh……..BUT

I deserved that promotion he got.

Look at her!  She’s my age.  Must be Botox or a lift. 

Sheesh! Look at that.  He has a line of people at his table waiting to have him sign his novel and there’s no one here at mine.  I feel like crawling under the table.

Old John Lydgate had it right. We humans are often plagued by comparisons. Even little bitty kids do it. “Why can’t I have a (doll, video game, train set . . . ) like hers?”

Is there any way to escape this depressing tendency to look at all kinds of happenings and make comparisons between ourselves and those we may see as rivals?  In my own field–writing–comparisons are common, and often lead to unhappiness or a feeling of inferiority. So, is there any way to escape this grief?

It’s hard, because so much of a writer’s success seems to depend on what he or she creates personally and promotes successfully. But–shouldn’t others’ success only make us stiffen our spines and march on, glad to see it can happen to others, and determined to write and edit better, learn more, share more?

My “glories” as a writer seem small if compared to biggies in our field, or with many of my fellow mid-list and independent press authors.  (It’s a huge surprise when I find out other authors envy my “success.”  Whoa!)

Some time back, while cracking my face smiling at the woman who was accepting an award I had also been nominated for, I noticed what she was wearing.  Oooo, a light bulb moment!  How would I look in the colors and styles she sported?  She’s at least 5’10″ and model-thin. I’m 5’2″ and no sylph.  Should I be wearing her flame red, skin-tight swirled silk tank and tube skirt?  (Those of you who know me can answer that one.)  I realized then that the only writer I could productively compare myself to was . . . me.

That’s when Radine did some in-depth thinking.  If I could never be anyone but me, the only hope I had was to be the best me I could.  I vowed to wade out boldly among others in my profession, make myself  learn to share their triumphs and joys without jealousy, and be ready to congratulate or encourage them when that was called for.  Above all, I’d be grateful for what I was learning from fellow authors — all those how-to’s we share with each other by teaching and example.

It works. Today I compare my work with what I accomplished before.  I read others’ work and honestly enjoy and praise. I walk among other authors, sharing the ups and downs of our careers without without embarrassment or apology, and also without jealousy.  I am grateful for success any one of us enjoys because, as a writer, I can fully appreciate the work it took to gain it and what it means to the recipient.

Comparisons?  Lydgate nailed it in 1440. Cervantes, Christopher Marlowe, and John Donne repeated it during the 16th century. “Comparisons are odious.” But I think Shakespeare said it best when he satirized the line in “Much Ado About Nothing” in 1600:  “Comparisons are odorous.”

I don’t want to be stinky.

Let’s begin with number one–the biggest surprise, and the one I treasure most.

Each year, at its May conference in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma Writers’ Federation awards writers for their work in thirty-four categories. Contest entries come from all over the United States.  Judges in each category are given the option of awarding first, second, and third place, plus a suitable amount of honorable mentions, depending on the number of entries in their category.

In 1992, with what felt like a tremendous amount of nerve and bravado, I entered one of my first unpublished essays in their essay category, which often draws well over a hundred entries. When awards were announced, and my name was called for an honorable mention, I was suddenly Miss America, I was an Oscar winner, I was class valedictorian, all squeezed into one five- foot two-inch trembling female body.  I walked to the front of that huge crowd on a path of gold, almost unable to breathe. I remember well going back along that golden path to my seat, listening to the applause (never let it be said that writers don’t support and cheer each other), as I held up my precious certificate.

The certificate, now hanging on the wall of my office, doesn’t say which honorable mention I won.  For all I know, it could have been third (the maximum allowed). It doesn’t matter.  Every time I choose, I can recall exactly how I felt that night, and nothing will ever surpass it.

Okay. There are now twenty-five award certificates, most of them either first place or a singular award, plus a key to two cities and one National Historic site jail, two trophies, and other such stuff in my office.  Never mind. Number one is still the most memorable.

A second surprise.  August, 2010

I entered the sixth novel in my Carrie McCrite and Henry King series,  JOURNEY TO DIE FOR, in the Silver Falchion contest at the 2010 Killer Nashville. Their web site states: “This is awarded for the best achievement in publishing to a Killer Nashville attending author as voted on by his or her peers.” The award is announced at a Saturday night banquet. I rarely thought about the Silver Falchion after I sent my entry, and didn’t attend the awards banquet. (I think the banquet cost was $80.00 a person that year.) My husband and I went out to dinner with writer friends at a nearby Irish Pub. (Fabulous food.) We came back to the hotel. We went to bed.

When I came down to the conference area on Sunday morning one of the organizers said, “Congratulations.”

Bewildered, I said, “For what?”

“You won the Silver Falchion.”

The rest of that morning is a blur. Tears, hugs, congratulations, photos, interviews. Surprise? You betcha! That afternoon the award ceremony was repeated at the convention’s closing ceremonies, and I got to hear, once more, (as I had in 1992), applause from a huge crowd of people. Who wants to be Miss America or an Oscar winner?  Not me!

Number three.  Now it’s June, 2011.

Each year the longest running writers’ conference in the United States (67th year in 2011 for the Arkansas Writers’ Conference), chooses one writer with Arkansas connections to be inducted into the Arkansas Writers’ Hall of Fame. I didn’t know (until after this year’s conference) who most of the previous inductees were, and know now that they include Dee Brown, Charles Portis, a couple of Pulitzer winners, a poet laureate, and Charlaine Harris. Selections are nominated and voted on by the Arkansas Pioneer Branch of the National League of American Pen Women, and the Arkansas Writers’ Conference.

This year’s inductee was Radine Trees Nehring!

One of the nicest surprises about this was what another Arkansas author, Marilyn Collins, said when announcing the honor . “In closing, I want to say a personal word. Our recipient is not only a skilled and talented writer, she is what we as writers should all aspire to be, a friend to other writers. Her talent, generosity, and sharing set her apart. “

Now, you gotta know that this was another lovely surprise. And, shouldn’t we all aspire to being known for giving to others? I think that’s one thing that really matters above all awards.  I hope you do, too.