Effort

Definition:

An earnest or strenuous attempt

This particular “Rule of the Dojo” is the one that I pour the most belief into. I pretty much live my life with the attitude that if I do everything in my power to get something finished, then the rest of the little things will take care of themselves.

I’m happy to say that this often happens. You can chalk it up to faith—I am a religious person-or karma or comeuppance or whatever, but it works.

Allow me to talk about my black belt efforts. I started Kempo at 25 years old. At the time I was about 120 pounds overweight, couldn't do a single lunge and the thought of running was, well, really, really funny.

I'm not fast at anything physical. My body doesn't like to be pushed, and my willpower quickly gives out. But if I can do it slow, things sometimes work out. I was always the distance swimmer on the swim team in high school. Sprints—not so much.

So it took me seven years to get my black belt. Some people can do it in two. I'd have to say five is pretty average in our system, if you're putting some good effort into it. I put effort into it, but not enough to move very fast. However, I always practiced and for the longest time I could remember anything I ever learned in class.

I recall on my purple belt test (4^th belt out of 10 to black) my instructor said that I would get my black belt. Keep in mind, this was during the test. You know, when you get punched for thinking too loud or for not yelling loud enough. I laughed. Out loud. Really loud. I never had the aspirations of being a black belt.

But I just kept going to class. Every once in a while my instructor would send me to a test. I slowly gained ranks until...black belt.

Now it took me a long time, but I consistently put effort into it. And eventually I got there. I'm still short, I'm still over weight and I still can't do as many lunges as the young kids. But I did it my way, put my effort into it, and it all worked out.

The same principle applies to writing. Or anything else you're working at in your life. Put effort into it. Move forward. Even if it's just a little at a time. If you do, other things will fall into place. I've seen it happen in my own life, I've seen it happen to others and history is filled with success stories of people who “plugged away at it” until they got there.

Figure out your destination, keep your eye on it, and move toward it.

Self-Control

Rule 1

What is self-control? According to the dictionary, it is the restraint exercised over one's own impulses, emotions, or desires.

Glancing down at my thighs, as well as the pile of chocolate wrappers I have sitting on the other end of the table, it is apparent that I don't have a great deal of self-control when it comes to eating.

I suppose I could try to make myself feel better and say that I don't eat EVERYTHING I want, just almost everything I want. That's exercising some sort of control, right? (I'm not really feeling better, by the way.)

The USSD manual definition is as follows:

Self-Control - Control over impulses, emotions and weaknesses. Do what you have to do.

Often times in the dojo, the self-control factor comes into play when someone hits you too hard or rolls you up into a little ball and kicks you out the door while you're sparring. (I do hate getting trounced, I'm not going to lie.) The trick is to look at every experience as a learning opportunity, and not let it go straight from your emotions to your fists, and then hit someone too hard. Er, or not at all.

Sure, we also practice control, but that's control over your muscles, balance and coordination, not your emotions. And emotions are way harder to manage.

Thus it is in writing.

Wow, that makes all of this sound very dramatic.

Back to writing...I feel like there are two sides to Self-Control:

1-Butt in chair and hands on keyboard

2-Dealing with the meltdowns

The first is easy to explain—do not allow anything to interrupt your planned writing time. Get in the chair and start typing. It might be awesome and it might be awful. Doesn't matter. Do what you have to do.

The second—dealing with the meltdowns—is a little more tricky. As a writer, it is sometimes hard for me to NOT get angry and upset at: my manuscript, my characters, my life for not cooperating with my writing time line myself for not writing everything perfectly the first try.

These are mental games. I hate mental games—I loose too much. But as a writer you need to be able to deal with your own inner dialogue, which may or may not be helpful, and move forward, no matter what it screams at you. Own it. Control it. Do your best to get over it.

Any other aspects of self-control that I didn't cover?

Five Step Sparring

Because sometimes the first try (or four) just don't work

My Sensei is always tossing out random statistics. I’m not sure if he’s addicted to useless information he finds on the web, or if the bits of knowledge float around in his brain and randomly spill forth.  Sometimes I wonder if he’s not making it all up, which is entirely possible.

This is one of the statistics he has given us before.  I’ve tested the truth of this one for myself.  If you’re fighting someone, and punch them only once, they have like a 90% chance of blocking you.

But punching just once is silly, so let’s say they block, and you punch or kick again.  They then have something like a 60% chance to block it.  The third strike goes down to 30% and the fourth goes to 15%.  If you have the chance to strike them five times, it’s almost guaranteed that you will hit them.

Moral of the story: Strike more than once.

This particular analogy can be taken a few different ways. Today I’m going to go in the direction of ideas.

Let’s say I want to write a story about the end of the world.

First idea=Zombies

Second idea=Attack of the weather/projectile from space

Third idea=God smites us all

Fourth idea=Super Virus

Fifth idea=We run out of toilet paper

Okay, most of these have been done, or are in the process of being done.  If I went with my first idea, I’d have a hard time making it original and have it stand out from all of the other zombie stories.  People are tired of zombie stories (fools), and want something new.

The second, third and fourth ideas have been done a lot too.  Can you make these ideas work? Can you make them totally original and awesome beyond comprehension? Of course you can.  But it’s hard, and new tropes are formed each year, limiting the direction your story can go without being contrived.  Without someone saying, “Oh, it’s just like this movie I saw ten years ago.”

Forgive my last idea, but it would be a serious problem for some of us, and could indeed lead to the end of the world. Would you as a reader see it coming? Toilet paper being the crux of the whole story?  I hope not. If so, you’re as twisted as I am, and you may want to seek help.

Moral of this section: Don’t go with your first idea.

Okay, sometimes you can, but 99% of the time you should dig deeper, and be more creative.  That way, when you’ve hit them with the first four plot twists they’re reeling, and they’ll never see the fifth one coming.

Fight Club-Manuscript Style

Have you ever considered your work in progress and known deep, down inside that it is kicking your trash?  If you kept score (which you don’t, because who does that, right?) it would read:

Author: 2

Manuscript: 17

Last week in Kempo class, I got to spar.  Sparring is fun.  I’m a black belt, and this girl is about to go for her black belt, so we got to play without gear.  Don’t get excited, we still used control, and only walked away with bruises.  Lots of bruises—it doesn’t help that she kicks like Chuck Norris in training and has absolutely no padding on her.

This girl fights in a very different style than I do, which always makes for an interesting match.  She can (curse her) kick me in the head with ease, and uses her legs to keep me at bay.  On the other hand, I’m totally willing to take a glancing blow to get past her accursed legs so I can punch her in the face.  More than once.

We traded a lot of blows, and I’m not sure there was a clear winner—we were just practicing and trying out wild and crazy things that we don’t normally get to attempt.  Basics are key, and believe me, when you forego them to try something fancy, you’ll get burned about 99.9% of the time.  As a man I call Scary Gary says, “Fancy’ll get you killed.”

I feel pretty much the same way about Season 4 of Babes in Spyland.  Except for the fact that I’m pretty sure that up until the very end, the story was totally winning.

It took me FOREVER to finish Season 4.  The dumb thing is only about 30,000 words long—12 episodes.  It’s not that hard. I’ve written three other seasons before this.  (Hello, I can write that many words in 14 hours) The characters are established.  The world is solid. The basic plots points never changed…but for some reason, I just couldn’t get it out.  Even though my basics were there, I was unable to string the story together and have it work.

And all I could ask myself is, “Why?”

Well, the more colorful version was more like, “Why, cruel world? Why has my writing muse abandoned me to some sappy romance writer?  Why am I being punished?  Did I not sacrifice enough characters to you? Did I not delve deep enough into the realms of emotional torture and let them off easy?  I’ll do anything to make it up to you…anything.”

It didn’t help.  The story and I had about a hundred sparring matches, and I swear I only won about six of them.  And somehow, I ended up with all the bruises, and the story seems fine. Pretty much unaffected.  Of course, that could be because I brushed it off and set it back on its feet after I beat it into oblivion.

Seriously, my frustration level has been off the charts.  Anybody else ever have this problem? What do you do?  I had to throw more and more time at the story before I stuffed it into the right box and made it talk.  Anyone else have a better suggestion? Because I could sure use it. I have one more season to write, and it can’t take that long.  Something will be destroyed. Probably my sanity.

The Rambling Syndrome

Yes, yes, I realize that I do in fact ramble quite a bit, but that is not what this post is about. And I may even refrain from any actual rambling, but promise nothing.

Right now I am busting out what will end up being a 90,000 word rough draft in two months.

Yes, I can write that fast. The end product should never be seen by anyone outside of me in my PJ's on a Saturday morning, but at the end of it I have a rough draft that I can then mold into the greatest story ever told!

Oh, sorry, sometimes I have delusions of grandeur. Just trying to stay positive, sheesh.

But really, this is my writing process. I wish it was otherwise. Were otherwise? I can never remember which it's supposed to be. Sorry, off topic.

I've been in denial about this process for a while. Outlines are usually my BFF's, but not for a novel. I have done a seven point plot system, the fifteen beats, planning out scenes, given my characters extensive backgrounds and even went so far as to try to create motivation for each scene before I start writing the book.

About ¼ of it ends up in the final story. Heck, only about ½ of it ends up in the rough draft.

You see, I'm easily distracted. (Shocking, I know.) I find some part of the story that I hadn't considered before and I delve into it. I can ramble on about some sub-plot that I discovered for thousands and thousands of words. Sometimes I have to stop myself and type this:

Blah, blah, blah, hook this into the main story before the kids get on the ship. Now, where was I?

Rough drafts are not only rough in the plot and prose areas, they are rough on me! I like things to be orderly and neat. A rough draft is neither of those things, nor is it always the story I want to tell. Sometimes I have to spit out the terrible rough draft, hitting on all of the dumb points of the story (kind of like the last three Star Wars films) before I figure out what the good parts really are.

I kind of hate it. But it's the only thing that works for me. So I shall be frantically typing over the next month to vomit the last 45,000 words onto my computer.

Then the real fun begins.

The other day I attended a book launch for One Boy, No Water by Lehua Parker.

I have a contract for my novel with the same publisher, Jolly Fish Press. I must admit that I had some trepidation about the whole thing. I'd only met one or two of the Jolly Fish Press team, and I'd never met any of the other authors. I didn't even know Lehua Parker and I was going to support her at her very first book launch.

But I pulled myself together, did my hair, put on some makeup and headed up to the Barnes and Noble in Layton. I have to say that it was a great experience.

First off, there were a lot of people there, which is awesome. Poor Lehua looked ecstatic and frazzled all at the same time. Although I have to admit some jealousy toward her comfortable-looking Hawaiian dress. I'm going to have to seriously consider what to wear when my book launches, because I'd be one to don a pair of cute but totally uncomfortable shoes.

I spotted some of the Jolly Fish Press team and headed over to chat with them. Within fifteen minutes I think we had six or seven of the other JFP authors there, along with the editor, his awesome wife, the sub rights girl and a few others.

It was at that moment that a couple of very stressful weeks melted away and I totally geeked out. Authors, writers, my publisher...I suddenly remembered why I worked so hard to get this far and why I'm trying to blast through yet another rough draft that I'd like to toss out the window about every other day.

Stories make people happy. They make me happy. After talking to the other authors I wanted to read everyone's books. I wanted to tell everyone great job and support them however I could.

New Sight isn't scheduled to come until next October. I'm pregnant with a book for the next 12 months.

How great is that? No morning sickness, and it won't draw on the walls.

If you're feeling down about your writing or writing career, just go hang out with a few other authors. Trust me, it will rejuvenate you!

Writing in My Modern Age

Between the ages of 12 (see the last post) and around 27 I wrote sporadically.  One year I would fill several notebooks (back then I couldn’t type a story, the keyboard was way too distracting) and other years I would do nothing but perhaps think about writing after I read a good book or saw a great movie. I believe these were the years in which I actually read epic fantasy.  Now days I start to twitch if I see a really long novel sitting on my dresser.  I really need to do something about that,.

So maybe I was ingesting more than giving back to the world.  We’ll go with that for now.

Then I met a good friend of mine that we will call Cola.  Because her initials were RC.  If you don’t understand, just forget I mentioned it.  Anyway, Cola and I did some traveling together (Russia and New Zealand) and she kept threatening to start a writing group.  I swear she toyed with the idea for at least a year before doing it.

We actually talked about this the other day, and can’t remember exactly when the group started.  Maybe eight or nine years ago.  I could dig through my journals and figure it out, but they’re all packed away at the bottom of my cedar chest, and I’m not up to the Tetris game that I would have to master in order to get everything back inside. 

For a couple of years we just did short stories every month off of an assignment that we would randomly come up with.  I wrote some good ones, and some bad ones.  We had a good time, and learned a few things about writing.

One of the girls in the group introduced me to Nanowrimo.  (I may have mentioned this before)  Before my very first Nanowrimo, I’d never finished anything longer than 30 or 40 pages, and most of them were old stories in notebooks.  So when this girl told me about 50,000 words in a month, I wasn’t sure I could do it.  As a matter of fact, I debated until two days before November started before I decided to go for it.  I had the characters in mind (Now THAT’S a funny story) and while I was at the doctor’s office (probably for my knee—darn thing) I jotted down a tag line for the novel.  That and a brain full of epic fantasy novels that I’d been reading over the past six or eight years was all I started with.

The moment I knew that someday I should be a writer came somewhere in that first week. I woke, sat up in bed, rubbed my face and immediately thought, “What will Paul and his playmates be doing today?”  It was like the story had settled into my blood and just kept pumping around inside of me, waiting to be let out.

Well, I wrote 50,000 words that year and every year since.  That first story spanned three years, and at the end of those three years I actually undertook editing it.  The poor thing will never see the light of day, but it stands as a marker in my writing career.  185,000 words of a somewhat coherent story that only mostly sucks…and I wrote it.

Since then I’ve written five or six other novels and I’ve done Nanowrimo every year.  And I have no plans to stop.  Apparently I like it, and who doesn’t want to do something you like?

Writing-In the Beginning

Stories have always been at the core of my life. I love reading them, I love watching them, when I was I kid I loved replaying them with my friends again and again and again.  I’m pretty sure we had more imagination in six girls under the age of eight than Hollywood has today.

I remember the first book I tried to write and illustrate.  It was a Halloween story with ghosts.  I could draw ghosts, thus the topic.  And that was the last time I tried to illustrate anything.  Second grade, if my memory holds true.  Art has never been my strong point.

When I was around 12 years old I saw Aliens on TV (maybe I’ve shared this story before—like I can remember).  It scared me to death—seriously, I was huddled on the bing-bag chair in the exact middle of our family room, making sure my arms and legs did not breach the imagined bubble of protection that I had around me and hardly daring to breathe—but it also intrigued me.  The military characters, and the way they stuck together like a team, drew me in, and I couldn’t stop watching.  The next day I started writing a similar story using my friends as characters. I probably still have a notebook somewhere with this stuff in it.  It should be burned.

But that is how I started my journey in writing.  I wanted to write a story cooler than Aliens so people would read it and feel the same way that I did at the end of that movie.  Although I’m pretty sure I decided that I would never kill almost everyone in a story I wrote.  And it took me years to figure out that the reason they didn’t leave anyone on the ship in space is because there would be no story otherwise.  There need to be good reasons for these things people, especially when a 12 year old is asking the question.

Dave Farland is a big voice on the topic of story is emotion.  I’m with him on this.  A story that stirs the recipient will stick with that person, and they will tell their friends about it because it was cool and they’re dying to share.  Story is about emotion, and my very first goal with writing was to produce something that struck people as hard as Aliens struck me.

I’ve never done it, I don’t think, but I’ve come a long way, and I don’t plan to stop anytime soon.

The Beginning of my Kung Fu

The other day my mind wandered down a path I hadn't seen in a while.  The question of why I started training in Kempo stood at the end of the path, and I had to metaphorically cock my head to one side and narrow my eyes as I thought about it.

Why did I start taking a martial arts self-defense class?  I started years and years ago.  I was way overweight, had no physical skill except eating to brag about and I didn’t know anyone in the class.

But I’d always wanted to be a Jedi, and as another class member pointed out, this was the closest I could ever get without being delusional.

I’m still considering the delusional option, by the way.

My first exposure to the dojo that I’ve now been a part of for eight years was at a women’s activity for my church.  One of the girls in our congregation was a member, so she brought a few students and they let us hit and kick the pads and then showed us how to get out of a lapel grab—when someone grabs the front of your shirt with both of their hands.  Stupid way to try to man-handle someone, in case you’re wondering.  Just leave them all of their weapons while both of your hands are tied up.  Great idea.  Yell really loud in their face, that’ll teach ‘em.

Anyway, I had a great time.  Kicking those pads as hard as I could had to be one of the best things I’d ever done.  Even in tight jeans. (Ugh)

So I went to one class, and immediately knew I was in.  If you’ve never had the “I just knew it” moment, then you might not  understand, but if you’ve ever felt the universe align in just the right way to tell you that you’re exactly where you need to be and doing just what will be right for you, then you’ll get it.  I agreed to a lesson the next week and signed up after that.  It has to have been one of the greatest decisions I’ve ever made.  Through the martial arts I’ve learned to deal with adversity, I’ve been forced to think outside of my own personal box, I’ve done a total overhaul on the inside of my personal box a few times, I’ve had the chance to get to know people I NEVER would have met otherwise and at one point I could jog for a mile.

The jogging days are long gone (I hope to get back to them soon) but I will never regret my decision and I will always be grateful for the “do it” feeling I got the day I signed up. Stepping out of your comfort zone is scary, but don’t let that stop you!

Next time we’ll travel down a different path-why did I start writing?

Learning From the Masters, Part 2

A few years ago I went to China with my dojo. I was one of almost 500 students that descended on the little town of Dengfeng and pretty much overran the place. One of our escorts was Master Charles Mattera, 10^th degree black belt. He's getting older, and isn't as spry as he used to be, but he did a few seminars for us in the early morning, China fog/pollution, and I'll always remember two things he said.

If you're being attacked, circles and elbows are your best friends.

Sounds strange, I know, but I've never forgotten it.

Elbows are the freight train of the human body, and if you put the right power into it, you can fold a 350 pound man made of pure muscle in half, breaking ribs and leaving him with a punctured lung. And let's be honest, who wants to get hit in the face with even an accidental elbow shot?

Circles are good to do when someone has a hold of your arm or hand. They expect you to pull away, but when you make a big circle with your arm, you'll eventually get to the point where their grip is weak and you can get out of it. It's not quite that simple, but that'll do for now.

Little things. One sentence that Master Mattera spoke that I caught and then watched him prove its truth.

A few weeks ago I attended Writing and Illustrating for Young Readers. Mette Ivie Harrison was my class leader for the morning classes. She spewed about a thousand gold nuggets about writing, and I tried to write them all down. At one point she took the time to go through two paragraphs of the novel I sent and literally showed me how I could make the actual writing more interesting.

That was on day one. I then spent the rest of the time noticing her using the same technique in suggestions for other people. I watched for it and now I might even understand it!

Circles, elbows and interesting writing. Keep your ears and eyes open because you never know when a master is going to give you the tidbit you need to take your writing to the next level.

Learning From the Masters

Every once in a while the masters of my Kempo system will come from California to Utah and put on a seminar. I do my best to not miss them, because they're mind-blowingly awesome.

And I'm not just saying that because someone might read this and decide I'm not humble enough and come remind me that I'm really a white belt.

Watching the masters move is like getting listening to a symphony—there's so much going on that it's hard to catch it all. How did the seventh degree black belt get from here to there and how many times did they hit that guy before he hit the ground? Master Awesome will show us a move that ends spectacularly, and while I can appreciate the move in its entirety, my mind is still back on how in the world he got behind his opponent. How did that foot work go again?

After having spent almost three weeks at writing conferences over the past two months (yes, it has been a good year) I feel much like I do when I go to a Masters Seminar for Kempo.

Wow. Wowzers. Double Dog Wow-wowzers.

I've listened to, chatted with, laughed at, laughed with, cried because of and stood in awe of a handful of amazing writers. They all have different perspectives on writing and publishing, which makes them all invaluable assets to those of us who are still trying to figure out how it all works.

My mind is still swimming in the information I tried to digest during these three weeks. It's impossible to sort through it and figure out what I need right now. So instead, I gathered my notes and put them away. I thought back to the bits of information that really struck me, whether it be on the craft or business of writing, and I'm trying to incorporate them. If they struck me, and I still remember them, then they must be my next step to being a better and successful author.

Get that footwork right, and just maybe the next few punches will come naturally.

Flexibility, Round 3

This round I’m going to talk about training.

Everyone’s lives are busy.  Be it family, friends, a demanding job (or two), time consuming hobbies (oh, I don’t know, like writing novels), a money pit of a house, community events, volunteering or World of Warcraft, schedules are full and free time is tight.

I’m a black belt. I should be practicing way more than I do.  WAY more.  But I don’t. Not because I don’t want to, or because I think it’s a waste of time, but because there are always a fleet of other demands in my life that weasel their way in first.  Most recently the biggest contender has been writing.

When presented with the choice of practicing Kung Fu or writing, I usually chose writing.  Not always, but usually.  Neither option is bad, but I can’t do both at once.

But recently I’ve made a goal to go over whatever I learned in my private lesson once a day.  That way maybe I won’t forget so much between lessons.  And it doesn’t take long.  If no one is in the bathroom at work, I can do it there.  Oh relax, I’m saying that to lead to a point.

Time is precious, and I personally don’t want to waste a bunch of it, so I’ve started to think outside the box with both Kempo and writing.

For writing, I’m trying to figure out when I can squeeze a little bit of outlining in every day.  I could take fifteen minutes right after I get up, do it during lunch at work, talk into a recorder while I drive or when I go walking.

Writing comes to a grinding halt when I haven’t properly outlined and thought through my story, so I’m hoping that this will help keep me going.  If none of the above options work, I’ll get more creative.

So remember to be flexible and keep your mind open to random, bizarre possibilities.  You never know when you’ll find a few precious minutes to jot down an idea.

Staying Flexible, Round 2

Fighting is like art—there is a style to it, and everyone’s is just a little bit different.  And since style has such a broad scope, it’s hard to define and talk about unless you delve.  So delve we will!

In Shaolin Kempo, the style of martial arts I get beat up in regularly, we focus on five animals: snake, crane, tiger, leopard and dragon.

Everyone secretly wants to fight like a dragon, but very few actually can or do.  There’s a lot of spinning involved, and I don’t like to turn my back on my opponent, so no dragon for me.  I’m a tiger snake.

Don’t laugh.  It’s true.  I fight straight on, like a tiger, but I wait for just the right moment, and instead of completely mauling my opponents, I dart in, hit a couple of key targets and get back out, like a snake. I’m too short to pull off a real tiger (curse you tall, long limbed people), so this is my preferred method.  But sometimes it doesn’t work, so I have to channel my inner dragon or crane and shift my approach.

When I write, I prefer to do so from a third person, limited, past tense point of view.  No first person, no omniscient POV, certainly no present tense (it hurts my head) and I avoid long chunks of description whenever possible.  Bring on the dialog!

Well, in the name of being flexible, which Sensei keeps telling me I should get more serious about, I decided to write my next novel from the first person POV.  I really love the character’s voice, and I think the intimate view of first person is just the right thing for the story.

The other night I wrote part of the first chapter.  I didn’t realize until half way down the page that I was writing in third person.  Old habits die really hard!

So this is my personal exercise in flexibility.  I shall embrace the first person POV and let my character’s voice shine like the sun!

But no present tense.  Never present tense.

The Importance of Staying Flexible

While there is a high value connected to kicking someone in the knee, there is also an advantage in being able to kick higher than that.  If you’re flexible enough, you can knock your opponent’s hands away with a kick, get them in the head or stab your toe into the side of the neck…which is very effective, by the way.

But if, like me, flexibility is, shall was say, something that doesn’t come naturally, then your options are restricted to targets below the belt.  Yes, yes, there are plenty of them there, but the top half of the body is a cornucopia of pressure points and soft tissue areas.  And frankly the more targets and options you have in a fight, the better.

Unless making decisions is difficult for you.  If that is the case, just stick to the groin.

So what does it mean to be flexible in writing?  Well, about a thousand different things.  This blog post I will elaborate on one of them.

Be flexible with your brilliant story idea and those scenes you’ve polished to literary perfection that may not actually need to be in the text.

Believe me, I know what hacking and slashing a novel means.  Instead of whacking the jungle with a single machete, I tend to bulldoze through great swaths of stories, leaving them barren and terrified.  And I curse myself, writing and the world in general each time I have to do it.  But you know what?  My story always comes out better.  Always, always, always.

Even if the best scene of description I’ve ever written will now sit on my back up drive for the rest of its life because I totally cut that part of the story out of my novel.  I did it.  I wasn’t happy about it, and sometimes I go back and read it just to prove to myself that it really happened, but I did it.

So don’t get so attached to your baby, er story, that you can’t see past the pretty to the problem.  Keep your mind and imagination flexible.  Trust me, you’ll be grateful for it at some point.

Too Much Thought

Today me, another black belt and a brown belt played Monkey in the Middle at Kempo class.

What is this Monkey in the Middle, do you ask?

Well, it goes like this.  Student 1 stands on one side, and student 2 stands on the other side, and one poor sucker gets to stand in the middle.  The Monkey in the  Middle faces student 1.  Student 1 attempts to punch the Monkey, who is supposed to pull off a technique.  If the Monkey manages that, then they turn around and get the same treatment from student 2.  If the Monkey pulls off a technique on student 2, then they get to go back to student 1.  When the Monkey finally messes up (which happens far to often) they’re out and another, er, victim takes their place.

Being black belts (or close to it) the time between turning around and someone punching at you is, well, no time at all.  If you’re lucky they’re still dragging themselves off the floor from when you tossed them on the last go around and you get a half a second to think.

Which is bad.  Thinking is bad.  Well, okay, thinking is good, but only if it’s forward thinking and not backward thinking.

Let me explain.  There is a particular technique called Easy Leopard (I personally think that the word easy should not be in the name) that I struggle with.  There are a few well-placed punches and then a sweep from behind.  Without actually hitting the person twice in the ribs, once to the temple and then once with your elbow on their back (which would certainly put them stumbling and in a bad situation), it’s rather difficult to do the sweep.

So I got all focused on the sweep, did it fantastically, turned around…and promptly forgot what I had planned to do.  In order not to get hit by the next person, I have to start thinking about what I’m going to do before I finish the technique I’m doing. If I dwell on what I just did, the next part falls all to pieces.  And it did.  And I got hit.

Drat.

As I’m punching in for the next Monkey, it came to me that I have the same problem when I write.

Punch.  Whack, whack, sweep—ouch.  Get up off floor.

When I write, I tend to try to make the bit I’m working on the best it can be.  Which is good.  But I get all caught up in wondering if I’m using all of the writing tools that I could be, and if I’m leaving out something important or if I could say the whole thing in a better way.  And as I…

Punch, whack, whack, whack.

…get all caught up in what I’m doing then, I forget to look forward to what’s coming up.  Then I get sucker punched as I realize that my mind is stuck in the last chapter and I can’t figure out where the next chapter should go.

I don’t have an answer to this yet.  But I’m going to try not to get hit in the face every other chapter.  Blocking with your face is bad.

Is there Always a Right Answer? Part 3

One  more entry on this, and someday I’m sure I’ll come back to the concept.

Another question to consider is this, “What do I want to do to this person who has so foolishly attacked me with a knife?”

Does he have friends around?   How many of them vs. how many of you?  How are you going to get away? Or do you plan to hold him in an arm bar with your pinkie finger while you call the cops?

All of these things will help you decide what to do.  If he’s got friends, you should probably take him out quick and hard.  If you don’t want to hurt him (drunk friend of whatever) then disarming would be the way go to with a follow up hold so you can “chat.” 

The same thing applies as you write.  What are you trying to do to your reader and why?  Is this whole scene a set up for something bigger?  Is the deep dark secret of your series revealed here?  Or is this the introduction of the love interest?

You see, you would use totally different tools depending on what you’re trying to accomplish.  What kind of tension are you looking at here, and what is the character conflicted about?  Are you going to hit them below the belt, or fake them out?

I guess I need to go into writing tools after all of this talk about them.  There are about a million, so I won’t get too excited.  And I need to review them as much as ever.  Each new story brings a new set of issues to first mess up and then resolve.  Combinations are important, because one-hit-wonders only work once.

But we’ll go into that some other time.

Is there Always a Right Answer? Part 2

More on knives.  Sorry, they’re shiny, I can’t help it!

We learn how to deal with all sorts of knife attacks: overhead stabbing, single slashing, double slashing, straight for the stomach, and to the neck.  I’ve probably learned six or seven ways to deal with each of these attacks.  And I’m sure I’ve forgotten over half of them.  Some don’t work for me, while others I’ll remember until the day I die.  (Well, as long as that day isn’t after the dementia kicks in.)

You would think that the ones I can remember the best are the simple moves.  Yeah, you might think that, but you’d be wrong.  Sure, one or two are the simple ones.  Others might be the first techniques I learned—those stick in there better than the newer ones for some reason.  Mostly I remember the ones that I love or have an outcome that makes the evil part of me smile really, really wide.

I think I choose a few of my favorites because I can pull them off on the people that always underestimate me.  I’m short, round, blonde and I look like a very nice girl.   Even with a black belt, most people don’t take me seriously.  (Okay, most of the time no one should.)   But, I’ve got a few knife moves that make people fear me.  Not because I made them up, but because I use them well and my partner knows at once that they’re toast.  Your own knife in either your neck or your, er, nether regions, is pretty scary. Even when it’s a plastic, practice knife.

Writing is the same. We have so many tools that we as authors use to pull an emotional reaction out of our readers that the sheer number feels overwhelming.  However, you never have to use them all.  Sometimes they don’t fit into your story (a horror element in a middle grade novel, for instance…wait, that might work) or you just don’t like them.  There are plenty of tools in the shed (no, I’m not talking about the jerks over there) so dive in and find what works for you.  Steal from a movie, or your favorite book, or your kids or wherever you see something that elicits an emotional response.  You might need it when your character is being unruly.

Do Something

I've mentioned this before, but I feel it's worth mentioning again. Both because it's important and because the meaning evolves the farther you get into a hobby or a project or a goal or a dream.

I think the very first piece of advise I heard my original sensei utter was this: “Do Something.”

If an attacker is coming after you, don't just stand there. At the very least scream. Lash out, whack them with your purse (or man purse), kick them, jump back, punch them, run away...do something. Nothing will not help you. The cosmos can't work with nothing, but it (and you) can work with even the smallest action.

That's why, in my Kempo class, when a maneuver gets called out and I have one of those infamous “white board” moments (you know the one, when your brain suddenly gets wiped clean of everything that you need right then and all that stares back at you is a pristine, empty white board—if it had eyes, it would give you a slow blink) I do the second thing I ever learned. Defense Maneuver #6—front ball kick, step out and on guard. Sure, I might get punched or berated for not remembering what I was supposed to be doing, but I've never had an instructor (on a test or otherwise) totally take me out. When people stand there with the dumfounded look on their face, not moving—that's when things get nasty.

The same goes for writing. Especially at the beginning. If you want to write an amazing novel or story, and you never put words on paper, then it's a sure bet that your “dream” of being published will never happen. However, if you sit your butt down and do something toward your goal everyday, then eventually you'll get there. It took me six years to get my black belt. Some people do it in two or three, others take five and still others ten. Those that get there faster put more work into it than I did. Sure, a few have a natural talent for the martial arts, but in general, people move faster because they put in the time and effort.

Now that I've received my black belt (something I actually laughed at an instructor for suggesting could happen someday) I have the same problem as before. There is so much Kung-Fu goodness floating around in my brain, that it's impossible for me to go through it all at once. Heck, I can't even remember it all—good thing I take notes sometimes. But the same “Do Something” applies. I have to (okay, I should) practice something everyday. I'm still progressing, but I also need to remember and stay familiar with the basics or I'll get lost and have to backtrack to review the simple things.

Working on plotting for months at a time is good, but if the skill of actual writing has been neglected, then when your fingers to the keyboard then things might be a little rusty. The opposite is true too. But if you don't do something, then nothing will ever get done. And once you've written a novel or two, it can be easy to forget those early lessons of characterization or suspense. It's a tricky balancing act that I'm not sure anyone wins, but playing is still important.

No matter where you are in your writing journey (or whatever your goal is) remember to do something. Anything. Don't neglect your dream, or it will slip away, leaving you at the same place you are now. And I don't know about anyone else, but I every once in a while I like to get a fresh view to look at.

Let's Start at the very Beginning

Well, it is a very good place to start.

If you'll notice, the name of my blog is Novel Writing or Kung Fu Fighting. I write all sorts of fun fiction, and I train in Shaolin Kempo. Neither of these activities could be, in any sense of the word, labeled easy. Unless you put quitting in there somewhere. But I'm the stubborn sort, and haven't quit either yet. There have been delays, injuries, months without a fresh idea for writing and years where I wondered if I would ever get better at either venture, but I keep going. It took me a while to come up with the reasoning behind my stubborn persistence, and I think it comes down to one simple truth. I'm a bit crazy.

Most writers are.

And most martial arts students are at least crazy enough to let other people try to hit them in the face on a regular basis.

I wonder if doing both balances out the crazy or just makes it worse.

I have different reasons for sticking with each of these activities. My goals for writing and my goals for Kempo are very different, but the two combined make for a very interesting learning perspective.

Kempo and I shouldn't get along. I'm short, getting old, overweight, fight with one extra bad knee and have never been good at anything physical. (Unless mouthing off can be considered physical.) I don't jump, run, do back handsprings or climb up walls, but I can throw a mean combination when I spar, and my right jab is pretty quick. Our style of Kempo is awesome for me, because if it works on a short guy and not a tall guy, I get the chance to figure out how to make it work on the tall guy. Okay, I usually just look helpless and ask Sensei for advise, but the point is that he is willing to do that, and I can get creative when I need to.

Writing and I get along great. Our relationship started with reading. Ah, reading. It's easy to read and think, “hey, I can write something better than that!” Doing it, however, is a different story. If not for the years and years of Kempo, I might have quit writing a long time ago because I like to get things right the first go around. That never happens with Kempo, and it taught me a lot of patience, which I then applied to writing. The first time I had to re-write a novel I would have quit for sure. Don't get me wrong, I still don't like to re-write anything, but I understand that a better story is a better story, and I want to put out the best that I can give.

So I've got all of these lessons that I've learned. In an attempt to not forget them, and to maybe help someone else out, I'm going to put them here. Once a week you'll get a dose of Novel Writing vs Kung Fu Fighting.

It'll be fun, I promise!

Almost Died...

Really. I did!

You see, Saturday I went to sparring class at the dojo. The usual line-up of ruffians was there. Nothing terribly interesting, just the regular sparring goodness that is Saturday's class.

In preparation for tournament in a few weeks, Sensei had us all judging the point sparring. I think he gets sick of people complaining that “I totally hit him under the guard!” when the instructor can't actually see on that side. So he made us try it out. I've done it a few times, but it doesn't really get easier. And I usually wait for a good shot, not the trading blows like kids in a girl fight.

So anyway, that was fun. I judged first, and ended up being the last one that needed to spar. Normally that means I get to pick my poison. Yay!

But that didn't happen yesterday. Oh no, Sensei takes off his huge, expensive watch, hands it to one of the other students, motions me out and says, “Who wants to judge?”

“What?” I said, staring dumfound. He's way faster than I am, and a second degree, and the grin on his face tells me he's about to have me for lunch.

What have I done??? I thought, getting on guard and knowing that any of my next breaths might be my last. I offered to just stand there and let him hit me a lot, but he was having none of it.

So we fought. I think I may have put forth a “valiant effort”, and even scored a point or two (pretty sure those were pity calls), but my life did flash before my eyes when I got him in the, er, almost face...and nicked his glasses.

Not good.

Sorry! I pulled it, I promise. So he took off the glasses and we went again. This time I almost got him in the, er, nether regions.

Oh don't panic, there was no contact, but the girl judging almost had kittens. “You hit Sensei in the groin!”

Uh, no, I did not. You see, I'd be dead if that were the case. And I'm still alive (I think) so that didn't happen.

Pretty sure ninja wannabe lost three years off her life. Playing with the big boys is stressful! And I get hit a lot.