Imagination

If you’ve been following my blog from the beginning, you may recognize the title. No, I’m not recycling that very first post. It must be babysitting the grandkiddies for several days that brings this topic to mind. Every time Hubs and I watch the 2½ and 5 year old, I am always amazed at their imaginations. The stories they make up as they play make me laugh and fill me with awe. They are very verbal children, taking after their mother and grandmother, I’m sure. I hope they never lose the fun and enjoyment of playing pretend.

I can’t remember where I first heard about a terrific website for children to make up stories. If you have children or grandchildren, you should check out this free site: http://www.carnegielibrary.org/kids/storymaker/  I tried it yesterday with the 5-year-old. What fun we had. There were a few questions at the beginning to help her get started. Then there were choices of pictures for settings, characters and objects to “drop” into the story. From there, she made up her story. She got the biggest laugh out of the castle that dropped onto the rose already in the picture. When we were finished, we printed out the pictures and story. She was thrilled. With no prompting from her grandmother, mind you, the title of her story was How a Girl Fell in Love with a Boy and ended with “they lived happily ever after”. Is that a budding romance writer or what? I still can’t get over how proud my granddaughter was to hold her very own “book” in her hands. It even had the title with her name as author on the “cover”. I think it’s going to kindergarten tomorrow.

Of course, you don’t need a computer program to help kids write their stories. Printing their words as they dictate the story to you and letting them draw pictures works well. That’s what I did for my kids in the pre-computer days. The important thing is that we don’t stifle their efforts. Somewhere along the way to adulthood, many children lose their imaginations either through neglect or discouragement.

Encouraging children to use their imaginations is something we need to do. Without imagination, where would we writers get the ideas for the books we write? The screenplays? The movies? If dreamers didn’t dream, where would our inventors come up with new and creative objects we can't do without? What would make a scientist explore new ideas? Why would explorers set off for new worlds?

Fostering imagination in our children doesn’t take money. It only takes our time and patience.






Come on back on Thursday to meet Michigan author Rohn Federbush.

Balance

You would think that a person whose astrological sign is Libra would have balance in her life. Not so. The scales are always tipping one way then the other for me. Now, I have no problem seeing both sides of an argument. Finding the pros and cons of an idea or project comes fairly easy. Some might call that fence sitting. I call it exploring all options. It’s balancing life itself that’s difficult.

Last week, I wrote about the dedication and perseverance Olympic athletes must have to compete with the world’s best. Dedication to the exclusion of everything else. When asked what he’s going to do now that he’s retired from Olympic competition, Michael Phelps said he’s going to try to have a normal life. So, what’s a normal life?

Balance between family, career, health, interests, play.

Writers can easily lose themselves in their story. Literally hours can go by without notice. That’s when the Muse is behaving, of course. Creating a story is not a pick-up/put-down job. It’s not something you can do for half an hour before moving on to another job. For most people, that is. I’ve heard of authors who can write anywhere, anytime, in short bursts. Most writers can’t turn on and off the creative juices like a faucet. How I wish it were that easy. When I start my writing day, I need to reread what I’ve written last to get back into the story before I can move forward. Not all of what was previously written, of course, just the last scene or chapter, maybe. Only then can I pick up where I left off. When the story is going well, I don’t want to stop.

 

Anyone who read my post last January about setting goals knows my photos are in boxes. I had great plans this year to organize them and put them into albums. I even worked out a plan of action. The photos are still in boxes. Finishing Switched, Too took precedence. Then, marketing the book after it was published. In the meantime, writing the next book in the series. Then . . . It’s so easy—make that too easy—to keep going once started. Writers who have full time jobs and families don’t have that luxury. They sacrifice more than hobbies to carve out time to write. Like sleep.

I’ve mentioned before that Hubs “drags” me to the fitness club almost every morning. If he didn’t, I’m sure I wouldn’t get any exercise. I know I need it to stay healthy. But when I’m in the middle of a project . . .

For several years, my life revolved around my children and their activities. Now that they’re grown and gone, it’s just Hubs and I. When the children and grandchildren visit, I can set everything else aside. No problem. But in the day-to-day routine, Hubs gets the short end of the stick. My contemporaries will agree that retirement is an adjustment. For both parties. I’m fortunate that he has activities he enjoys (read, keeps him busy). He enjoys working in the yard. My flower beds have never looked better and we’re enjoying his tomatoes, cukes and beans. He enjoys woodworking, making furniture and toys for the grandkiddies. But that’s not enough. He actually wants me to do things with him—which, after nearly forty years, is rather nice. Fortunately, we both like movies. Since retirement, we have seen more first-run movies than in all the previous years we’ve been together combined. He likes to go for drives—with company. Leaving my story at a critical juncture is difficult. Yet, turning down the invitation seems, well, unkind. “Sorry, guy, but my characters are more important.” Not.

What I need is a schedule. Make writing an eight-hour a day job, including all the email and social media aspects. Make time for hobbies I once enjoyed (like photography, gardening and quilting). Make time for exercise. Take time to play. More importantly, make time for the man who is still the love of my life.

How do you find balance?

On Wednesday (8/22), I'll be over at Nancy Jardine's blog, She said, he said. I hope you'll stop by. Then, on Thursday (8/23), come on back here and meet my guest Oklahoma author Alicia Dean.

Play

One of the most enjoyable things we did on our vacation to Florida was go on a dolphin-watching tour. It was so much fun! I always knew dolphins jumped out of the water, but I didn’t realize how much they play. They leap and twist and race alongside tourist boats for fun. They say, of all the animals, dolphins are most like humans. It got me thinking about how humans play.

As children we played. When my uncles and their families visited we would have baseball games in the field behind our house (the same place Mom used to flood in the winter so we could ice skate). My dad’s brothers were a lot younger than he was. In fact, one of my uncles is only 10 years older than me. When you’re a kid and your uncles are in their twenties, they seem so cool. And they played baseball with us. Dad never played. He was the movie maker. Our play is forever memorialized on 8mm film.

It seems to me that as we age we “play” for something—a goal, a reward. When we play golf, we strive for a lowest score or when we play baseball or football, it’s the highest score we aim for. We play poker for money. But, do we ever play for no reason at all?

Have you watched how little children play? My grandchildren play dress-up. My granddaughter (4 ½) makes up stories that go along with whatever costume she wears. She insists I play the minister to marry her and her imaginary groom. Then, I get to be the clerk at the honeymoon hotel. Kids run and play with no incentives, no rewards, no keeping score. When/how did we lose that?

I love playing with the grandkids. No pressures, no keeping score. Just play for the sake of play. It’s a freedom I seldom experience. The only other thing I can compare to that freedom of play is when I begin writing a new book. The joy, the newness, the excitement of an adventure stretching out in front of me waiting for me to discover where the adventure is going and how the characters are going to get there. I’ve mentioned before that I’m more a pantser than a plotter so each story starts with a premise and I go with it. Eventually, I remind myself that this is my job, that finishing the book and sending it to an editor is the objective, that there is an incentive (selling the book to a publisher) and that brings about a reward (sales).

But, for a brief time, I can enjoy playing.

How about you? How do you play?