Op-Ed

Some thoughts on Writing and RITUALS

Writers are known to have rituals. Light a candle, sit in your favourite chair, arrange your paperclips at right angles, and only then can/will the the magic at the keyboard begin.

I’m not exactly kidding. Patricia Highsmith apparently started her writing sessions off with a stiff drink; Truman Capote claimed he could only write when horizontal, coffee and a cigarette in hand; Haruki Murakami has said that when he is writing a novel he wakes at 4 am and works for five or six hours straights, runs or swims in the afternoon, and goes to bed by 9 pm. 

 

I do have a Pavlovian response when I hear the opening bars of Mozart’s Sonata for Piano and Violin in G, K.301:2. Allegro

As a mother of four kids running a busy home, however, I can’t really afford to get too picky about a lot of that stuff. Mostly I need to do whatever I can to carve out time, and try and use it to the best of my ability. That includes: not peeking at the myriad tabs open as I compare ballet tights, dog food, birthday gifts, name labels on sale, other items on sale; ignoring pinging from any number of WhatsApp groups re: carpools, playdates, football training; not scheduling doctor/dentist/hairdresser appointments; and not checking something else off the endless to-do list. I do have music that I like to listen to when I write. With Honey and Me I basically listened to a Mozart for Morning Coffee CD I had from my kids until eventually technology advanced but I was still slogging away and I switched to Mozart for Study playlists on Spotify. I don’t actually know anything about classical music, but when I hear the opening bars of Sonata for Piano and Violin in G, K.301:2. Allegro my mind jumps to my characters Milla and Honey and their world. 

But I can also write in cafes, on airplanes and anywhere there’s white noise rather than the mom-specific noise of someone asking me what’s for dinner or have I seen their shin pads. 

There is one ritual I do have though. It’s not exclusive, meaning I can write without it and otherwise go about my day. But it does bring me joy and internal structure—an expectation of what I’m meant to be doing— and there’s something to be said for that. 

My ritual is: mugs.

The first thing to know is that I drink tea all day long. Green tea until 2 pm. And then chamomile, and sometimes rooibos or mint. But that’s not really the important part. The important ritualistic part is which mug I am drinking said tea in. I used to have two. One has Elvis Presley on it. It comes from an Elvis-themed truck stop on the road between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. It was purchased for me by a taxi driver who took me from Tel Aviv to the cemetery just outside Jerusalem where my friend had buried her son; waited for me during the service, standing on the outskirts with a kippa from his glove compartment; and then took me back to my children waiting for me at a hotel in Tel Aviv before we returned to London later that day. But first he wanted to show me the Elvis truck stop and bought me a cup of tea with the mug as a souvenir. 

 The Elvis mug

This is the mug I use when it is family time. When I’m using that mug I am not wishing that I could be sitting at my computer. I am counting my blessings for my family and their health— mental and physical. Even when I’m making four different dinners. Even in the depths of lockdown where boundaries in general did not seem to exist. When I take out that mug it’s a choice and a statement that I will try to be in the moment with my family and whatever needs doing for them, and not trying to split my time between my writing and them, giving not enough to either.

The writing mugs (Parts I and II)

My second mug used to be a Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators mug. Purchased by me, for me, at an SCBWI British Isles conference many years ago, this was my work mode mug. When I was using that mug it meant that I did not want to be called by school to come get my sick child. Alas, sometimes that was the case. Because that’s life. But taking out that mug was a choice and a gesture that this writing part of me was important and deserved space. 

 

Unfortunately, a few months ago this mug broke. Don’t ask me how, no one will tell me. My husband glued the handle back on but a chunk was missing. I was going through a Harry Styles thing (I mean, who wasn’t?) and my older daughter, both mortified and milking it for laugh-at-mom value bought me a “You’re So Golden” mug as a replacement work mug. It’s a good one, although it’s a bit more irreverent and less earnest than the SCBWI one. I use it for work, but also sometimes when I need a bit of pep. It should also be said that since my book was published, I have found the definition of work to be different. Rather than just going into my home office to write, I am suddenly running another small business — essentially a marketing and PR firm for my book. It is such different and unexpected work. But perhaps that’s another blog post.

The author mode mug

The point is the lines have been blurred a bit and luckily I now have a THIRD mug which is taking its ritualistic place in my life. Just before Honey and Me was published I got a mystery package in the mail, with handwriting that was extremely familiar but too out of context to place, especially because it had been so long since I’d last seen it. To my shock and utter delight, it was a mug made into the jacket cover of Honey and Me, sent from my oldest best friend Stephanie. I still can’t get over it. It’s hard to say how much this mug means to me. Having the love and support of my friends for one thing. Having a friend who has known me since I was four. Having written a book about friendship and to feel this support from my own friend. Seeing the jacket cover on a mug and feeling OMG this is real, I am about to be a published author. There’s probably more to it that I can’t even harness and pick out the strands of what and how much it means to me, but basically I suspect I have written this whole blog post as an excuse to show off this mug!

So the Honey and Me mug I use when I am in what I think I will call “author mode.” Sometimes I am afraid to take it out lest I drop it and break it. Say what you will about the fragility with which I consider this new mode of being for me: “author.” Other times I sip from it proudly or at least try to own it. The book is published and I am proud of it. I love how people are connecting to it. I love talking to kids who have read it! And it’s been an added surprise and bonus to talk to all the  adults who have read it and related to it, no matter their background.

All I know is, I hope my mugs don’t break. I hope that people everywhere love my book. I hope I have more books in me. I hope my family stays safe. Even without my mugs these are my hopes and fears. 

Ritual shmitual. 

On Writing Resolutions and Goals… and Puppies

For many years here on the Mixed Up Files there is an annual pre-New Years post where MUF bloggers list their writing and reading resolutions. At the end of 2020 I knew exactly what I would put, which is that I wanted to keep a tally of everything I read throughout the year.  I also took some time to privately write down for myself what I had accomplished writing-wise in 2020, and some specific writing goals for 2021. Like many people, and notwithstanding immediate evidence to the contrary, I was hopeful for 2021. Despite all the fear and uncertainty and sickness of 2020, I felt like we had gotten through it and things would surely move forward.

Oops

Well, my public MUF resolution went down the toilet fairly quickly—like, within days—the ones when my kids didn’t go back to school after winter break.

My state of the union from this time last year

In January of 2021, exactly one year ago, I wrote to my editors to check in about the draft of my novel I was working on. This is part of what I wrote:

“It seems like everyone I know who wasn’t sick the last time around is sick now or has been sick in the last 5-6 weeks. Thankfully they seem to be getting through it ok but the hospitals are overwhelmed and even with the vaccine rollout the government is indicating that schools will be closed until the end of March. My kids are in kindergarten, 4th, 6th and 9th grades and to be completely honest I am drowning.

Last week I learned about the solar system for 4th graders, how rivers flow, how to write a beginner’s code in microbit, what an algorithm is to a 5 year old, the solar system for 6th graders, and how King William used the feudal system to consolidate power. I have broken my head on 4th grade math and worked on an essay on Of Mice and Men. I go between feeling like I got this, and my kids will be ok, to feeling like my kids are being emotionally stunted and that I am being graded and must be the dumbest parent in the class, often within the same hour. Their lunch break is at 4 different times spanning 2 hours. Getting them (and myself) outside during daylight is a challenge. My son in 6th grade with ADHD presents special challenges (including to my sanity!) At the same time I really know that we are exceptionally privileged that, among other things, in the three schools my kids are at the online provision is pretty good, how much most of the teachers care and are working their butts off, and that I am able to be home to manage their schooling.

The other good news is that I am still able to find time and mental clarity to work on HONEY if I wake up very early and this method seemed to work the first time around, so this is really all to say that I am working, but pretty slowly.”

 

Metaphorical toilet times… And yet…

Art by Rose Metting; Website by Websydaisy

Things definitely got worse before they started getting better. With particular grimness I remember the six days we spent without heat when my boiler broke while London experienced several snowstorms and an unusual cold snap. Despite that, my draft did get done. When I sat down last week to read my goals from 2021 I was surprised to see that I had been able to meet most of them. I wrote the amount of blog posts for the Mixed Up Files and reviews for the mock book award Sydney Taylor Shmooze I’d hoped to, I wrote a picture book text and short story, I took a romance writing course and started my own romance novel for fun. There are a few things I didn’t do: some because they made sense to delay, some because my focus shifted onto something else that made sense to take its place. There were several disappointments about writing things I’d hoped would work out but didn’t. (At least not yet.) One thing I especially love is my new author website, which looks exactly how I dreamed my author website would one day look.

 

Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. https://www.simplypsychology.org/maslow.html

One doesn’t need to have Maslow’s hierarchy of needs memorized however to know how impossible it is to think forward proactively when your immediate goals are survival. In the months my kids were at home in the winter of 2021 it certainly felt all-consuming and while this was not the same as having food or shelter insecurity— there were many days when the goal was simply to get to the end of the day. During this time I also felt that my goals had negative and positive effects: they stressed me out, amplifying my frustration–how on earth would I accomplish anything? While at the same time spurring me on to try: I really want my book published so the only way to accomplish that is to wake up at 5 am and work on it for two hours before the day starts with the kids. Trust me when I say I never thought I would be the kind of person to do that, but I did.

 

Resources and Advice for Goals-Setting:

In case anyone is interested in the research and advice on goals setting, a google search literally of “goals setting” came up with a plethora of information and tools.

  • Here is one good example of why and how to set goals.
  • And this is a great post from MUF contributor Jenn Brisendine about creating “goal statements.”
  • I especially found the life vision exercise of the rocking chair an interesting way to think about long term goals: “Picture yourself in retirement, thinking back on your life from your rocking chair. What accomplishments will you be most proud of? What will you most regret? These are your most important answers to the question, ‘Why is goal setting important?’”
  • Also obvious yet profound is the idea that goals with measurable means of success give us meaning and purpose which is a key to happiness—or more importantly, satisfaction.While for many years when I had little kids, and especially when I moved countries, I paused my lifelong hobby of knitting and crocheting, I think it’s no coincidence that in 2021 I finished knitting the cardigan I’d started during the first lockdown, made half of a new one, completed a crocheting project, and also completed two needlepoint projects. I learned to touch type! (and I’m slowly trying to get fast enough to really use it when I’m writing. )

2022 goals in the poo bags… And yet?

All that being said, bang on trend for once I started the first week of 2022 with a(nother) bout of Covid—then I spent a week recovering—and then this week my family got a puppy. Which is to say… all my intentions to look back at 2021 and make goals for 2022 have been consumed by life, especially said puppy. But if the past two years have taught me anything it is playing both a short game and a medium-long game. By which I mean, being aware of deadlines and goals (eg doing some last-minute revisions on my debut middle grade novel Honey and Me, coming out with Scholastic this fall 🙏) that must be met and take priority over everything else; and having the clear-eyed discipline to make them happen if at all possible (while being aware and accepting that at certain times things just won’t be possible) even if it’s slightly slower than hoped for (see above re Winter 2021.) And also being aware of more medium-term goals (say, those for the year, or the next few months), that can go in your back pocket while you’re dealing with the short term goals—they’re not necessarily visible but you can feel them on your butt. You might take them out later than you’d hoped, but by the end of the year it’s amazing to see how much that pocket has emptied—and things have moved forward.

How about you?

I’m curious how anyone reading this might use goals or wish to use them. Do you find them helpful? How small do you make them? How measurable? Do you write them down? Do you give yourself deadlines or timeframes? Do you give yourself visual cues? How often do you check in on your progress? How often do you stop to set new goals? (Which is to remind everyone—myself especially—that goals don’t just have to be set at the beginning of the year.) How far down the road do you set goals for yourself? Any tips or things that worked especially well for you? Please share in the comments!

Wishing everyone a wonderfully productive 2022 in which pursuing your goals enables you to thrive.

Back to School in the Olden Days

Last year, my younger daughter was assigned to interview an older relative about what school was like back when they were in first grade. In an ordinary year, this assignment must have been an interesting way for the kids to discover and appreciate all the differences in school culture and technology that have built up over the past few decades.

My daughter chose to interview her older sister.

“I remember back when I was in first grade, six years ago, we went to school in a building that wasn’t our own house. Some kids got dropped off by their parents, and others got there in a big yellow bus.”

“That’s crazy!”

“And we didn’t use iPads, like, at all.”

“How could you see the teacher?”

“The teacher wasn’t on a screen. The teacher was in the room.”

“No way!”

“In gym, we got to play games and run around, and sometimes we went outside.”

“With the iPad?”

“There was no iPad.”

“Now you’re just making stuff up.”

“I’m not! And when we ate our lunch in the cafeteria, we sat at huge tables with all the other kids in our class.”

“That’s impossible! Also, what’s a cafeteria?”

“It’s like a restaurant, but just for the school.”

“With curbside service? Or was it a drive-through?”

“Neither. It was like one of those old-timey restaurants where you could eat indoors. Like you see sometimes on TV.”

“But you had to stay six feet apart from everyone and wear a mask, right?”

“There. Were. No. Masks.”

“What-what? School in the olden days sounds dangerous! You’re lucky you survived.”

* * *

Some kids went to school in person for at least part of last year, but many students this fall haven’t been inside a school building since mid-March of 2020. Some can barely remember what in-person learning was like.

These are challenging times for sure.

Stay strong, teachers.