It’s been a while, magical people.
I’m working on a new book. The first working title was The Typewriter in Room 222. It has evolved to become Yellowstone Out of Time. It has taken me by the heart and poured out of me…in fits and starts. Some days it seems like thousands of words fall from my fingers with almost no effort at all. (though I do finish those days EXHAUSTED) Many days I sit down to write and go, “huh, whoops, I have another big question to answer before I proceed.”
Perhaps this could be solved if I learned to outline first. And I’ve done some brainstorms/brain dumps that have resembled outlines for this project. But ultimately, it’s not how my creativity flows. At least not yet. Maybe someday.
For now, this book has been a really profound and interesting lesson in learning to recognize the things that are becoming patterns about my creative process and its spiralic nature (at least as it relates to crafting novels).
Things that are showing up as constants from project to project:
Poking at an idea for a while in my notes app until it has so many facets it needs its own folder. Once the folder has 5+ notes, it might be a book.
Reading what I’ve written each day out loud to my spouse creature to hear it out loud and get his amazing brain working with mine. (I’ve made him cry five times with this book so far, I feel bad, but not really.)
Going for a walk when I’m feeling stuck really helps, even if it’s just laps around my kitchen, but it’s best if it can be outside and I can let the trees and ducks and horses whisper possible solutions to me.
My writing is better when I am enjoying it.
(This one could be stigmatizing, because having the time to enjoy writing and not just squishing it in between the thousand other things required of us is absolutely a privilege. However, since I am currently allotted the privilege of mostly setting my own schedule and I have the ability to approach this project with joy and patience, that’s the approach that brings me to the end of a writing day with the words I’m happiest with.)
No matter how much I plan, characters and scenarios are going to surprise me. I will need to pivot. I will need to rewrite. I will need to revise. But I love those steps of the process. So let me revise that in real time: I will get to pivot. I will get to rewrite. I will get to revise.
My process spirals back on itself, just like my ideas do. And there have been some incredible moments of story magic with this book, and some moments of absolute frustration and exasperation.
But this book is my love letter to Yellowstone, a place I have a complicated relationship with. A place I grew up. A place I didn’t really understand. A place that was ripped from the hands of its Indigenous caretakers and “preserved.”
I’m learning a lot writing this book. It’s got a haunted typewriter, unexpected magic, diabetes rep (of course), and kids doing their best in imperfect situations. Oh, and LOTS of geysers and maybe some magical creatures, too.
On a completely different and random note: I made a Big Little Book yesterday for someone with a fascinating Human Design chart. And I remembered how much I love that incredibly flawed, but bafflingly insightful system. It was a nice reminder of the many avenues I’ve explored the last few years.
That’s all for now. Perhaps I’ll be a bit more regular with this little space in the coming months. Perhaps not. I know that’s not how newsletters are supposed to work, but I’ve never been much on “supposed tos”.
Trust your magic!
I am sooo similar with outlines, it’s just not how it comes out. Thanks for sharing all of this 💜