Saturday, January 26, 2013

Yeah? So, What?

By Keith N Fisher

I’m plugging away. The thesaurus on my computer program says that means I’m promoting. To me, it means I’m continuing to work at it. Along with my family, writing is one of the constant in my life. It suffers from tragedy, but it’s still there.

I didn’t write a blog post this week. It’s Saturday, and I’m late. I’ll post this, and hope you’ll forgive me. I hope all your projects work out.

Good luck with your writing—see you next week.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

A Little Look at Life

By Keith N Fisher

It’s Saturday, and I haven’t written a post yet. I’d better think of something . . . Did you ever notice everybody has problems? Makes it hard to feel sorry for yourself. We pass through trials and think, Surely I can take no more. Then, we read about others.

I haven’t gotten much real writing done lately. It’s been hard to focus on anything but my trials. As you know, I lost my glasses in my accident and riding in a car at night can be what a friend of mine used to call a "Hippie Trip". Lights are like star bursts and you can’t really tell where you are.

Notice I said riding, not, driving. Besides the handicap of blindness, I’ve been afraid. Luckily, I’m blessed with a good wife who’s been taking me to work. Reliving the experience of finding myself hanging out of a broken window has been hard, but others have greater problems. Look at G. Parker’s blog post from yesterday.

Also, my friend was attacked and almost killed at work, but she had the courage to go back. Getting back on the horse that threw you has always been hard, but everyone agrees it must be done. She talks about turning her writing into a full time occupation.

My glasses came in the other day, and nobody was home. My remaining vehicle waited in the driveway. I had to get them, but I couldn’t face my fears. Finally with a prayer in my heart, and cold sweat on my brow, I went down to get them. I faced my fears.

I know I’m not the only person to pass this way, there have been many. Financial problems are nothing, compared to watching your baby struggle in an incubator. Life was never supposed to be easy. We couldn’t learn if it were. Having others care for us makes all the difference, but caring for others helps us grow, and it’s what God intended.

I will get back on my horse and we’ll ride off into the sunset, but I want to thank all those who help in small ways. Don’t forget to notice others. Help them. Be there for them. You can’t take their troubles away, but you can hold their hand.

Now I’m off my soapbox, perhaps I’ll get some writing done. Good luck with your writing—see you next week.
 

Saturday, January 12, 2013

Things Change, Even the Rules

By Keith N Fisher

You might remember I posted about our new car the other day . . . I wrecked it this week. When 2012 ended, I was thrilled to be done with it. Now that 2013 is here, things could only get better, or could they?

Do you remember a few blogs ago, when I wrote about my experience with swerving. I wasn’t wearing a seatbelt and the swerve sent me to the passenger side of the truck. I wasn’t wearing a seatbelt in my accident.

I was thrown into the passenger side window, broke the glass, and found myself halfway out of the car. I lost my glasses and a lot of blood, had to get stitches, and endure a lecture from my friend about my habit of changing the rules.

Of course he was right, or I would’ve been wearing a seatbelt. I used to wear it all the time. I’m not sure when, or how, I got out of the habit.

As far as changing the rules, I’ve always looked for easier ways of doing things. Some would say that makes me lazy, but it earned me a supervisor’s position once, when I proved I had a better way.

As writers we have rules to follow. Many of us successfully change those rules, others hold fast and find success that way. I can’t decide it for you, but remember my example of bending the seatbelt rule. You’ve got to expect setbacks. Still, writing rules are changing all the time.

They say I could’ve died in the accident, and I think they are right. I’m grateful for a Father in heaven who gave me another chance.

Good luck with your writing—see you next week.

Saturday, January 5, 2013

Getting it Right is Not Perfectionism

By Keith N Fisher

Where I live, recently, we had a few consecutive snowstorms. Each time, I came home from work and drove into my driveway before removing the snow. To make matters worse, I didn’t get the trailer parked in its place this year. It shades half of the driveway so the sun can’t melt the ice.

Consequently, we’ve been dealing with tire width ice strips that didn’t melt. The real problem was the ice sheet covering that part of the sidewalk. I’ve been haunted by thoughts of someone falling on the ice.

Finally, the sun came out the other day, so I went out to chip the polar ice cap away. I used a plastic shovel, and spread lawn fertilizer on it, working on it throughout the day. After a while, I got rid of most of it.

Some people might look at those efforts as a sign of perfectionism. Normally they might be right, but our city has an ordinance about clearing the sidewalks and people could sue. I was only protecting myself by doing a necessary job.

While chipping ice, little by little, I thought of an analogy of writing that you might enjoy. Recently, I’ve been fine-tuning a couple of manuscripts. In one story, I’ve been rewriting to meet my current level of writing ability.

At the same time, I’ve been tuning the content, making it easier to read and make sense. Often, I’ll have gone past a scene and a better way of writing it will come to mind. Like chipping at the ice, I go back and replace bits and pieces, making a better story.

This kind of writing might be obsessive. It certainly never ends. I’ve been hit by ideas for books long after they’re finished. Of course, I can’t keep coming back to old stories and make them better, but why not? All of that chipping will not make it perfect, but I’ll have a clean driveway. Maybe someday, I will be a good enough writer. My books will not be perfect, but they’ll be clean.

Good luck with your writing—see you next week.