In this post I write about going back to school – sort of – and schlepping the rest of our crap from France to Spain in a stinky van with the sun full on us and a panting dog.
When I declared 2009 my year of exploring writing through writing, I felt I couldn’t do it alone. I wanted guidance. Like when I was in graduate school. Yet unlike graduate school during which getting feedback on my work was as fun as being fed to a wood chipper.
That was then and then there’s now. Although I’m once again feeling like I don’t know shit, it’s not as daunting as when I was a writing student in my twenties. Perhaps because I’m crankier. Attitude is tremendously helpful in keeping one’s spirits up. Also my handpicked tutor is someone who understands the eggshell nature of a writer’s ego and knows how to say what needs to be said without coddling or crushing that ego. That is a rare talent.
Where does one find such a person?
Luck? Fate? Opportunity? A couple years ago I hired a copywriter to help me polish a script for an animated viral video as a promotional thingy, something I could post on YouTube. The collaboration process went great, but the project never got past the paper stage. Long story as to why. It was a bummer that the project had to end up DOA, but the silver lining to the whole affair was getting to know a wonderful writer who later agreed to be my writing coach/mentor/guide for a while. For a fee, I should add. As it should be.
A bit about the nitty gritty, like considerations, organizing and asking.
I thought long and hard about what I wanted to achieve by working with a writing coach/mentor/guide sort of person:
- Write several articles and essays polished enough to have a fair shake at publication, even if I know the chances are slim the article or essay will be accepted.
- The ability to self-publish and self-promote is a Plan B I’m willing to fall back on. But not without first giving Plan A a serious go.
- Write a more journalistic article. For kicks. For the challenge. To see if I like it.
- Force myself to choose a central point for each article, research the intended publication, clarify the intended audience, organize an outline and actually use said outline as my guide. Whenever I blog I pretty much write the post as I go, off the top of my head (ahem, as evidenced right here and now), very much in the moment (ditto). It’s a pleasant, loosey goosey, unvarnished approach, but it’s been the main modus operandi for a while and it’s made me a lazy writer. I can live with being lazy about certain things, like ironing or vacuuming the inside of the car. I’m not ready to surrender to being a lazy writer, at least not yet.
- Hone my abilities to assess what’s going on in my rough drafts. Am I trying to be too clever? Am I being a scaredy and skirting the raw material? Am I blathering? Am I mongering metaphors? That sort of thing.
I also considered numbers and reality. How many articles did I want to write? Over what period of time? How much lead time to allow from first rough draft to final product? How much time could I realistically commit each week, each month? How much could I budget for this assistance each month? I didn’t want to suck all the joy out of my dreaming and scheming by addressing practicalities, but the practicalities would have to be dealt with at some point. Better to do so while they were more manageable.
Then I put my thoughts into writing and emailed a request to my first choice (OK, only choice) in writing coach/mentor/guide, remembering to say please, and adding that there would be no hard feelings whatsoever if this wasn’t something she had the time or inclination to take on. If the answer had been no, I can promise you I would have been disappointed and a little sulky. But no hard feelings. Happily, though, the answer was yes.
What About The Stinky Van And The Dog?
Last week we drove back to France in a stinky rental van to pick up the rest of our stuff. I had eight hours on the outbound trip to analyze the smell but cut bait on that line of thinking for reasons I hope are obvious. Instead, I focused on being a lap pillow for our dog and the scenery that gets more beautiful the closer you get to the Aude and Herault departments in France.
It was a quick trip. Three days. Sixteen hours on the road. Five pee stops. Four cans of Coke Zero. Two bags of chips. Two Kit Kat bars. Two ham and cheese sandwiches (each.) One small dog who had the best seat in the van. Zero fruit. Nutritionally we were very, very naughty.
We stayed with friends, stocked up on olives, ate dinner at a restaurant with the most amazing mermaid tiles in the ladies WC, said our goodbyes to the village and some of its villagers, hit the road, our dog panting from the full sun filling the front seat as we returned to Spain.
To this chapter of our lives we can officially say “le fin”.
