Tag: thoughts

writing

FWIS: inspiration

abby mumford

FWIS (from where i stand) is a monthly feature i’m doing with jessica corra and bria quinlan. all three of us are YA writers in different places in our journeys. (check out their links for this month’s FWIS from their points of view.)

today’s topic: inspiration

muses. light bulbs. facts. fiction. imagination. voices in your head. characters taking over your brain. sparks. licenses plates. conversations. tv shows. dreams. nightmares. myths. monsters. where does inspiration come from?

(despite the fact i chose this topic, it’s actually an uncomfortable question for me.)

i’m not one of those people who can’t quiet the voices in their head nor do i have one shiny idea after another begging me to write it nor do i just sit back and let the characters do all the work, and frankly, sometimes it frightens me that i don’t have an endless supply of stories to tell or characters yelling at me because all the other writers i know do.

i’m more like one of these people.

my first MS was based on a perception i had of myself growing up. my second MS (current WIP) has a familiar fairytale foundation. i don’t yet know what my third MS will cover because i haven’t had anything particularly interesting cross my mind, not to mention the work involved with writing has felt heavy lately because the words, characters, and ideas aren’t revealing themselves to me.

i know i’m not supposed to wait for lightning to strike because, well, not only would that fry my computer, it would short circuit my brain.

instead, i need to work with what i have: take charge, grab hold of that tiniest grain of an idea, place it in my brain, let it roll around in there, pulsing and polishing and pearlizing, and then write it out. it’s not the usual method of doing things, but then again, what is the usual method? does it always have to look like this?

or is it okay to look like this?

do you do anything differently than everyone else? do you walk backwards to work? do you talk in pig latin? are you short when everyone is tall? are you hot when everyone is cold? do you laugh instead of cry? do you drink tea instead of coffee? do you have a flip cell phone? do you wear sunglasses at night?

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writing

FWIS: deadlines

abby mumford

FWIS (from where i stand) is a monthly feature i’m doing with jessica corra and bria quinlan. all three of us are YA writers in different places in our journeys. (check out their links for this month’s FWIS from their points of view.)

today’s topic: deadlines

all of my writing deadlines are self-imposed which makes them more fluid than firm. i’m not proud to admit this especially since procrastination isn’t something i’m prone to doing.

(when i was growing up, my main motivator was my super smart older siblings. their brains naturally gave way to straight A’s while i had to work a bit harder for my B+s. our career paths have taken us down different roads, so they’re no longer available as bench markers…)

… and so, one way for me to circumvent this is by making writing a team sport.

how do you do that, you ask. isn’t the keyboard crowded with more than one set of hands, you say. is this some sort of tag team thing, you wonder. let me set the record straight. when i say “team sport” i mean that i’ve taken to transporting myself and my laptop out in public and have other writer friends join me. there’s something about looking across the table and seeing someone else diligently working. it’s a great motivator.

speaking of sports, i also take part in something called writing sprints with bria and her writing crew. they’ve very kindly allowed me access to the secret room where we chat and sprint (aka write as fast as we can for 20 minutes) and report in on our progress and chat and rinse and repeat.

the hope is that by doing all that, i’ll get my habits in order so that when the real deadlines kick in, my discipline will be in full force.

 

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convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #20

abby mumford

i’m talking to strangers…

it was the best type of sunday in that i had nothing on the agenda but relaxation. i had started a really good book (THE LOCK ARTIST by steve hamilton) and so i read and snacked and read and read and read.

deciding around 4pm that i needed some fresh air, i headed out to the grocery store. i had brought my cloth grocery bags, so the guy bagging my groceries turned to me when he reached an impasse: ground beef.

guy: you want the meat wrapped in plastic?

me: *giggles to self* please.

due to the aforementioned day of relaxation, i realized this was the first time i’d spoken all day. (it was sort of fitting considering the book i’d just finished contained a main character who doesn’t speak. he can, he just chooses not to.) i can, obviously, but that day, i chose not to. i was happy to know, though, that despite the lack of voice, i hadn’t lost my sense of humor.

guy: *hands me receipt* have a nice day.

me: you too.

and with that, i went back to my scheduled silence.

 

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feelings

the change monster

abby mumford

sitting in the house which sits in the town which houses the high school i went to, i’m struck by all the things that have changed since i graduated. new faces (BFs, GFs, husbands, wives, babies), new cars, new clothes, new developments, new responsibilities, new money, new conversations, new roads, and new jobs have expanded and enriched my life and my relationships, and i can’t help but wonder in what ways am i different and in what ways am i still the same?

i’m still shy, but around those who know me best, there are often times when they can’t shut me up.

i’m still athletically inclined, but instead of two hours practices six days a week, i’m lucky to hit three miles three times a week.

i still love to read and i still sneak it in anytime any place.

i still adore children, but the more i learn about childbirth, the more freaked out i get. (holy cow, women are amazing and brave creatures.)

i still dream of being a writer, but now my daydreams are interspersed with the hard work needed to get there.

i have more responsibilities, more bills, more memories, more family members and more friends, but how much of my core self has changed? how much of it should have? i have different habits and different focuses, but i’m still bad at math, still bound to get hopelessly lost, and still fiercely loyal to those who work their way past my armor. two of the three of those would be nice to get better at, but if i put all my energy into learning my times tables (ha, kidding, i totally know 7 x 8 is 56), maybe it’d take away the spare moments i have to catch up with friends and family and is that really worth it?

can we ever completely change? is that really necessary? is it possible to fix your flaws while maintaining your essence of good? how do we decide what needs to change and what’s okay to remain the same? how do you know which is which? is it all trial and error?

will i ever like pineapples?

i obviously don’t have the answers, just the questions. if you’ve got some answers, go ahead and share. please and thank you.

convos with strangers

conversations with strangers #13

abby mumford

you shouldn’t talk to strangers. here’s why i’m going against what my mom taught me.

me: can i have a decaf, non-fat mocha?

him: you sure can. *rings in order*

me: *looks through purse for wallet*

him: how are you today?

me: *oblivious to the fact the question is directed at me*

him: *repeats question*

me: *looks behind to confirm he is talking to me*

him: *laughs* you are all *imitates my startled face*

me: i don’t know why i didn’t realize you were talking to me. i’m doing well, thanks. and you?

him: maybe we should switch that order to caffeinated?

me: valid point, but my stomach prefers the decaf.  (*thinks to self* self, did you just admit too much?)

him: have a good day.

me: you too.

and as i waited for my drink to be made, i pondered my confusion. was it the fact he asked me how i was doing after he took my order? was it my level of tiredness? why didn’t i realize he was talking to me? have you ever revealed too much information to a stranger? have you ever been a part of a conversation you didn’t realize was taking place?