Tag: Life

The Importance of Positive Feedback

On By dotluvs2writeIn blogging, Fiction Writing, Inspirational, Writing Techniques4 Comments

you can do it

Doesn’t it feel great when you get awesome, positive feedback from fellow writers reading and critiquing your stories?

I’ve gotten many on the three works I ran through the critique queue: my novel, Passage of Promise, my novella, Mourning Dove, and my novel, What She Didn’t Know.

Whenever you feel down or unsure about your story or even your ability to write, that changes when you get wonderful comments after constructive feedback from your fellow writers.

For example, one of my fellow writers commented on my scene descriptions (scenic surroundings) in my novel, Passage of Promise, as “second to none”. That really made my day.

A couple of days ago, I received a lovely comment on three of the chapters submitted last week from my novel, What She Didn’t Know, saying, “Powerful chapters. You are doing a great job of capturing the impact of family secrets and poor communication.” And a couple of weeks ago, with two prior chapters before those, another critiquer said, “No reader would ever be bored with this story. A more zest soap opera than one could find on the boob tube. Lots of engaging characters and snappy dialogue, and a narrator telling us about the human condition.” These remarks truly boosted my confidence and brought me joy. My characters are coming through so well, and that’s vital to me.

I mentioned in a former blog post how important critique partners are. I’m reiterating it here, showing the beautiful rewards you get, in addition to helpful suggestions. You get encouragement and praise at times. And every writer needs that.

 

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Treading in Unfamiliar Genre

On By dotluvs2writeIn blogging, Fiction Writing, Inspirational, Musings, Writing Techniques5 Comments

genre picture 2Last week, several ideas of a new story came to my mind. It was exciting. I mean, when is it NOT exciting to have new story ideas bloom in your brain? It’s a fantastic feeling, right?

I started writing down notes on this new story. Many thoughts and many questions. What’s the core of this story? What’s the main character ARC? And what about this idea or that one for the storyline?

Then it dawned on me that I was steering outside the usual path of women’s fiction genre I write to one I’d never really driven on before. Looking up the genre I believed my story ideas fell into, revealed it to be in the speculative and dystopian fiction realm.

I cringed a bit because I’ve never been into sci-fi, fantasy, or dystopian stories. From the stories I’ve read on my online critiquing site, I do have an interest in certain paranormal stories. And, I have to admit, one of my fellow critiquers writes King Arthur fantasy, and her story won me over through her excellent writing. But these examples are exceptions, not the norm in my regular reading regimen.

A few days ago, I finished writing the first chapter to this new story, and I loved it. I read it to my sons and husband. They loved it.

I have notes on where I want the story to go. But I’ve not been able to get back to the story and write it.

Now, how often has that happened to us writers? Pretty often, right? So, I wasn’t too surprised, but it still frustrated me.

Then I thought, “I just need to get to writing. Start the next chapter.”

That’s how I was able to finish up my last novel that took a year and a half to write. I had to push myself to start each chapter, even though I knew what I needed to write. The writing would start out slow, dull, and mechanical, like I was just writing to get the words down. And I was. However, around mid page, the creativity started to pour out, and I became immersed in the scene.

So, with my own experiences, I can use them and tell myself to “Just start writing”.

Try it if you haven’t already, my fellow writers. Just put words down on the paper or on the Word document.

Wish me luck on this new project. I’m hoping it comes out to be worthy of future readers.

 

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Sometimes It Hurts

On By dotluvs2writeIn blogging, humanity, Musings, Past Life Activities, Religious4 Comments

woman in sunset sad

 

She grew up happy-go-lucky, spoiled, shy. She had an imagination that was infinite, with a kaleidoscope of ideas and thoughts on creativity and just plain fun.

She was the youngest of two daughters of parents that were there for her. Her father helped her with her homework when he was home.

Her mother and her were very close.

Her family moved around a lot because of her father’s job, and making friends was more difficult than ever. Her shyness was painful. It would take her several months to make friends, the one that never spoke first.

A tomboy through grade school and into high school, she had a lot of confidence playing whatever sport was provided in PE, or in her neighborhood streets. The shyness she felt evaporated in those moments. But at school, it clung to her like a blood-sucking leech.

She hated school, and her grades began to plummet in junior high and continued through her senior year of high school.

The bond between her mother and her started to fray in junior high school and throughout her adult years. At the same time she was bullied in junior high, made fun of, with hurtful words that dug into her very being and stayed there for twenty-five years, her mother added to the hurt.

Teens and parents have their clashes, but this did not happen between her and her father. He continued to help her in high school and support her, encouraged her to keep making an effort in her school work.

Eventually, after much verbal abuse for twenty plus years, she finally distanced herself from her mother, which was okayed and advised by her priest.

It took her over twenty-five years to realize she wasn’t stupid and that she was worth something.

So, when harsh words were said to her in the usual way they were, she learned to let it roll off of her, not allowing it to penetrate her heart.

Since then, for the most part, her relationship with her mother had become stabilized and seemed cordial. There were moments where glimpses of the mother she knew when she was a young girl peeked through like a hole in a cave that let in a pinpoint of sunlight, when there was true warmth and lovingness between her mother and her.

But sometimes, that indifference shield would slip, and the attacks would strike, and she would feel the pain, but not in the same way she had as a teen or younger adult.

She would keep her mouth closed and let the mean words pass because she knew that’s just how her mother was.

However, the shield slipped again within the last twenty-four hours, and she wondered if she wanted to make the effort to talk to her mother again. A couple of her mother’s comments were, as usual, mean, and she nearly said something mean back to her. But she kept her mouth shut. Figured it would cause more trouble to retort in a similar fashion than to just let the insults go.

Does this still make her that young teenaged girl who took the verbal attacks and believed everything her mother said to be the truth about her? That she was selfish, she was stupid, she was scatterbrained, she wouldn’t make anything out of her life.

No.

She knew now, after two years of therapy and graduating from college, that she was not stupid or scatterbrained. That she had made something of her life in taking care of her two sons and working at being a decent wife to her husband, and striving toward a closer relationship with God. That she wasn’t totally selfish, although, sometimes she was. Was there anyone that wasn’t at least a tiny bit?

However, she wasn’t and isn’t all those insulting and hurtful descriptions.

Between pride and low self-esteem, it is a challenge. And she tries hard to be the person God created her to be. To cooperate with His will, to become transformed into a true human being sharing the Light and Love of Christ.

Sometimes it feels like she’s in a hamster wheel, getting nowhere on this spiritual journey, but she won’t give up.

As she has in the last decade, she will continue to show kindness to her mother and keep the protective shield over her heart whenever the stinging arrows of harsh words fly toward her.

After all, she loves her mother, no matter what. Loves her sister and father. She will always be a part of them.

 

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