Mystery: November 16, 2016 Issue [#7979] |
Mystery
This week: Staying Motivated Edited by: Jeff More Newsletters By This Editor
1. About this Newsletter 2. A Word from our Sponsor 3. Letter from the Editor 4. Editor's Picks 5. A Word from Writing.Com 6. Ask & Answer 7. Removal instructions
"The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense
of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery."
-- Anaïs Nin
Mystery Trivia of the Week: While pseudonyms are not exactly uncommon among fiction writers, P.J. Parrish is a bit unusual in that it's the pseudonym of not just one writer but two. The Louis Kincaid series of mystery thriller novels, which have won an International Thriller Writers Award, a Shamus Award, an Anthony Award, and was a finalist for an Edgar Award, are actually collaboratively written by sisters Kelly Nichols and Kristy Montee.
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STAYING MOTIVATED
For many of us in the United States, last week was an emotional one. Whether you're currently elated, despondent, or somewhere in the middle about the results of last week's election, it's entirely possible that you've been feeling a little uninspired lately when it comes to your writing. It's natural for people to find themselves preoccupied, distracted, or even upset by life events from time to time, and I thought I could use the newsletter editorial space this week to talk a little about how to stay motivated when real life gets in the way.
The most important thing is to keep writing, especially if writing is an outlet for you. There will always be something else to capture your attention or take up your time, and we have to make a conscious decision to write rather than do those other things. We make that decision when we're choosing between writing or watching television, writing or getting a few extra hours of sleep, writing or spending time hanging out with friends... and we need to make that deliberate choice when it's between writing or spending time stressing over the results of an election. And it's even more important for those of us that use writing as a stress reliever or escape or way of processing our thoughts and emotions. I know that I get anxious and stressed out more easily when I'm not writing, so not writing on top of an already stressful situation in my life only compounds the problem.
The next most important thing is to give yourself permission to write the things that speak to you while you're upset. This election comes almost smack dab in the middle of NaNoWriMo and if you're feeling like you're not particularly inspired to keep working on that novel you started on November 1st, I can promise you that you're not alone. But don't just stop writing entirely; transition to a form of writing that does appeal to you right now. Maybe this is a good time to do some blogging, old-fashioned handwritten journaling, or trying your hand at poetry, essays, flash fiction, or something else. The fact that you're still writing is infinitely more important than what you're writing, and it's okay to change gears when something happens that profoundly affects your mood or state of mind.
If you're a writer who's feeling out of sorts, I'd implore you not to let your writing fall by the wayside during this or any other difficult time in your life. If writing is what gets you through difficult times or makes you feel better, the last thing you should do is stop writing when you're upset. Make yourself write something, anything so that you're not compounding the frustration of your current mood with the frustrations of writers block.
Keep doing what you love, especially when the times get tough.
Until next time,
Jeff
If you're interested in checking out my work:
"Blogocentric Formulations"
"New & Noteworthy Things"
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I encourage you to check out the following mystery items:
EXCERPT: “No, that’s not what I meant,” the campaign worker said and then glanced down at the table that he was seated in front of. Both of his forearms had been resting on the table, but now he suddenly moved his right hand up to his mouth, clenched his fist and pressed the index finger to his upper lip while propping his nose on the middle finger, his head slightly bowed, his right elbow pressing down hard on the table top. He raised his eyes a bit and stared intently into space, and his already slumping posture worsened yet. With a keyboard and a computer monitor two feet in front of him on the table, for a few seconds, in profile, he looked a little like a slouchy internet age parody of Rodin’s The Thinker. Just as suddenly as before the right hand plopped back down on the table and his left hand flew up to his face; he rested that side of his face on the left palm, tilting his head just a little bit to the side and puckering his lips slightly. The self-professed anarchist did not notice any of these movements; indeed the only visual impression he had retained of this seated young fellow was the large “Change” button that he wore on his cheap, blue button-down short sleeve shirt.
EXCERPT: Remy Johnson had been a relatively simple man throughout his 26 years of living, with a light heartedness he had acquired from his deceased mother. Soon after entering grade school, Remy’s parents noticed he had a gift for knowledge. His mind operated like a sponge, everything Remy came in contact with, he remembered. This was welcomed with extreme enthusiasm not only by his immediate family, but his small hometown of Holk as well. The townsfolk became encouraged by the young child; they imagined him growing up and bringing riches to the poor country town.
EXCERPT: “The last part of the brain that we’re going to talk about today is the parietal lobe.”
Professor White, a psychology professor at the University of Maine was coming to the end of his lecture. He was a good professor, but still, Laura felt like a teacher’s pet having to sit in the front row while her broken ankle healed. She was lucky that her friend, Sam agreed to sit with her. Sam usually slept through psych, but she was able to stay awake through the weeks it had taken Laura’s ankle to heal.
EXCERPT: The pleasant October evening with a nip in the autumn air was invigorating. She watched the trees adorned with leaves wearing lovely autumn colors. Awesome, how each season spoke with its own unique voice of beauty and joy. There was something ethereal about the leaves falling each going a different way gently drifting in its own color. With the lavender sky, brown earth and the distant hills turning violet in the setting sun, Vicki needed nothing more to lighten her heated brain and tired body. Tall and lissome, with dark hair falling in perfect waves down her straight back, she headed to the woods at the town’s end. She preferred it because there wasn’t much traffic to worry about, and the solitude gave her a chance to think of her life, which at the moment seemed to be taking a welcome turn. At twenty-six, Vicki had done well for herself. She had a good job, good looks and a positive attitude to life and society. She had no real worries at least for now, she mused.
EXCERPT: "Now, let me tell you what really happened.” This town may seem innocent, with the quaint buildings and decorations, but things aren't as they seem. Many years ago there was lawlessness that would make most criminals shudder and do whatever it took to get out of town immediately if not sooner. Eventually things got so out of control, there hardly were any people living around here. The ones who stayed had no choice because they didn't have the financial means or tools necessary to be able to move. This area has been as far back as I can remember a depressed and woe-be-gone kind of place.
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Feedback from my last newsletter about stagnation ("Mystery Newsletter (October 19, 2016)" ):
SB Musing writes: "For me personally the characters always are the driving force for how and why I read something. I just finished reading The girl who kicked the hornet's nest and there was an incident which turned into a mystery of who was terrorizing Berger. She immediately fell into believing that it was this one man who couldn't stand her and acted aggressive towards her.
Turns out, this wasn't true and the real person who was the perpetrator was one that we really had to hone into the clues to find out it was them. I think every genre has the ability to fall into the usual 'cop mystery' or whatever way it may be, but the characters are what makes you flip those pages quickly or just toss the book to the side."
Thank you so much for sending in your feedback!
Quick-Quill writes: "Genre. This caught my interest. The fact you said some people read exclusivly in one genre. In this day and age of millenial writers, the term GENRE is non sequitur (how's that for pulling a word out of my mental file? I had to look it up to be sure I used it correctly) Authors write SciFi mystery, romance fantasy, Paranormal romance. Romance comes in every genre. Thrillers can be futuristic as well as whatever genre Dystopian Worlds is now called. I find as a young reader through about 15 years go I read by genre which changed as I got tired of the repeatitveness of the story lines. From early mysteries, Nancy Drew and Bobsey Twins to Gothic Romance, to Pioneer setting, then to Harliquins by the boat load and even over my long membership, added genres retain readership. That is why I have a hard time putting my book in a genre field. There is a mystery but not with a murder. Its just the search for truth. My new novel is along the same line. What really happened all those years ago that affected our lives? How do I find the truth? A new genre?"
I appreciate you taking the time to comment on my last newsletter!
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