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After a lovely vacation week visiting my family in the southeast, this is the official start of what I'm calling my "full-time-part-time" writing career.

I'll admit, day one (yesterday) consisted of not so much writing, but more desk-clearing and laundry. Still, it was a good first step.

This morning, as the cursor on my screen blinked in anticipation, I felt the first real wave of panic hit me since making this decision. All the usual fears invaded my brain: What if I get a massive case of writer's block? What if writing during nap-time and evenings isn't enough? What is no one pays to me to write a single word EVER AGAIN!? 

Typically, when in the throes of a good "career freak out," I head out for a walk. I'm not great at meditating in stillness, but a brisk walk often helps me quiet my mind. This morning I had two problems: First, the baby was napping, hence me, "butt-in-chair" in front of my computer. Second, it's pouring rain and chilly here in Barrington today, and I needed to be distracted -- not drenched.

So, feeling a tad desperate, I decided on another type of movement meditation: My kids' Just Dance game for X-Box 360.

I know very few people over the age of 17 who look cool doing Just Dance or any of those Wii or X-Box dance games, and I assure you, I am no exception. But this was an emergency.

So, I pulled the drapes, cranked up the volume, and just... danced. Until all I was thinking about was how to a master a move that no one looks good doing who isn't in a boy band.

I let go. And laughed at myself. And when the music stopped, and I realized I'd bested my high score in "Shake Your Groove Thing," I felt better.

My lesson for the day? Sometimes butt-in-chair isn't going to happen, until you shake off the fears (even if it's only temporary) that are holding you back.

And if a quarter turn and a hip slap is what works... then do it. Just dance.

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I've been thinking a great deal about world building. It's an odd phrase, really. Sounds more like a subject for the Geneva Convention than the concern of novelists. But if you write fantasy, world building is key.

Currently, I'm at work on a middle grade novel featuring mice as the main characters. And although I don't have the daunting task of creating an entire universe with its own class, culture, government, technology, botany and imagined creatures that many high fantasy middle grade and YA authors do, it's still vitally important that the world in which my mice exist be plausible and interesting.

There are a number of questions I must answer in order to avoid causing the reader stop and ask them, too.

First, is the issue of scale. How do the mice interact with larger animals in the story in a believable way? Will my characters and plot follow the natural order of our world, or will it break those rules with a purpose?

What about clothing? How do I integrate clothes into the story so that it seems perfectly natural that a mouse would don a trench coat and fedora?

And the most important question of all: Is this an alternate universe where mice rule the day, or are they an adjunct, hidden part of a larger human world?

Believe it or not, when I first began writing this novel, I hadn't decided the answer to that question. It's only now, in the editing and rewriting stage, that I'm fully addressing (and sometimes grappling with) that issue.

And whenever I'm grappling with some aspect of craft, I find it helps me to look to the masters for inspiration.

Here are a few authors who build "critter worlds" like nobody's business.

EB White, Stuart Little

Mary Norton, The Borrowers


















Robert C. O'Brien, Mrs. Frisby and The Rats of NIMH




















Richard Adams, Watership Down




















Kenneth Grahame, The Wind In The Willows

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A friend gave me a wonderful piece of advice today.

We were talking about self-confidence and silencing the little voice that tells you you're not good enough, smart enough, talented enough, etc.

Writers are notorious for letting this voice get in the way of their work. Starting it, finishing it, touting it, or all of the above.

She advised me to create a figurative "Board of Directors" for my life. A circle of people I hold in my mind who nurture, encourage and inspire me, but never criticize. The best part is, I don't even have to know them personally. (Yes, Oprah Winfrey can be on my board.)

Nor does a board have to be comprised of those in the here and now. The deceased qualify. This was a revelation to me because my mom, who passed away last year, was my best sounding board and biggest champion. The idea of her as "Chairman" (or chairwoman, as the case may be) of my board is a lovely, powerful thought.

The only requirement for my Board of Directors, is that they be people who surround me in positive, encouraging light--either in how the treat me, the messages they put forth to the world, or how I remember them.

So when doubt creeps in, as it is wont to do, or I'm in a situation where I feel somehow "less than," I can consult with these trusted individuals, know that they believe in me, and move forward.

Creating my Board of Directors has been enlightening. I must say, I'm quite happy to have them around.

Go ahead, try it. Who's on yours?

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Just like moons and like suns

With the certainty of tides,

Just like hopes springing high,

Still I rise.

- Maya Angelou

The second half of 2010 brought personal challenges like nothing I've had to face before.  Namely, my mother's very serious illness.  But it has also given me moments of grace and understanding; moments where my family and I have had to pull together, be strong, have faith... rise.

Anger, worry, heartbreak, exhaustion... they are all still there, they don't really go away, but amidst those emotions, I feel gratitude.  I find that everything feels more precious: my family, my children, my  friends, and yes, my writing pulls me up from underneath back into the light.

It's a curious thing, to write through hardship.  It would seem that in times of great stress, there would be nothing left of my creative self to give.  But I'm discovering that writing is not only my passion, but my lifeline.  Journal entries, sessions where I dig in and lose myself in the story are powerfully cathartic.

Instead, what has fallen away are the trivial details of life that I once felt so caught up in.  It's not how I'd choose to learn the lesson of what truly matters, but it's a powerful lesson nonetheless.

So I still get up, kiss the tops of my little girl's heads, find a quiet space—and write.

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I'm in, are you?

It's like the pledge to vote - but with writing.  C'mon, you can do it!  I'm tapping out pages of a middle grade novel and my goal is to finish it.

Then after the month is up, let it rest, and dive back in for revisions.

Oh and by the way, tomorrow's election day so while on that topic: VOTE!!!!!!!

:) Anika

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