Sherrah’s Laws of Inspiration

Inspiration happens only

1. When you are eating oreos with milk.

2. When you are in the bathroom.

3. Between 12 and 2:30 am (or those times when you are supposed to be sleeping).

4. When you are taking a major test.

5. When you are in the middle of a term paper that is due the next day.

6. When are are somewhere where people don’t even know what pens and paper are.

Yeah, I was a nerd back then. (Who am I kidding, I’m still a nerd.) I have no memory of writing this list, but it looks like something I kept handy so I could add to it. (I am so glad blogs weren’t around when I was in high school.)

Have these laws stood the test of time? Well, I haven’t bought oreos in years, so I’m not sure about that one. But I do know that snacks are always good while writing. As for rule number 2, I did recently find myself working through a problem in my current story while I was in the bathroom. And it was after midnight when I had an aha! moment earlier this week. I don’t take tests anymore, nor do I write term papers these days, so rules 4 and 5 don’t necessarily work. Although, I do often find myself thinking about my story when I’m doing something else. I’m not sure what to make of rule number 6. I have no clue what inspired that one. But I’ve learned that when I’m in the thick of a story, and even when I’m not, inspiration can come at any time and any place. All it takes is having eyes that can see and ears that can hear.

I’ve never really understood the people who want to write but don’t know what to write about. Stories are all around us. All you need is a character. Figure out what they want. Put a few obstacles in the way to keep them from getting it, and then find a way for them to overcome those obstacles. And let your imagination run wild.

I should note that the edges of the paper I wrote my “laws on” are burned, to make them look old. I do remember doing this once or twice, but you shouldn’t tell my parents because as far as they are concerned, I never played with fire in my room.

him: Yeah.

me: Um, I have a few questions and was wondering if you have any more information?

him: Yeah.

me: *pause* *wait for him to give more information*

me: Um, okay, what’s the square footage of the house?

him: Hah, that’s a silly first question.

me: (thinking…what’s so silly about that?!)

him: I don’t know. Probably about a thousand.

me: And what appliances come with it?

him: A fridge. Stove. Washer and dryer hook ups.

me: Okay, and the big question. We’re not moving until July 26. Would that work for you?

him: *laughter* Nah. At this price, this thing’s gonna go fast. *more laughter*

me: Okay. Thanks. Bye. *hangs up phone*  *looks at phone in disgust* Rude! I didn’t want to rent from you anyways.

This conversation did take place about three weeks ago, when July 26 was still over a month away. But it is fairly typical of the conversations I’ve had while looking for a place to live in Wichita. Judging by the reactions we’ve gotten when we tell landlords when we want to move, people don’t typically plan ahead when they move. Now that we’re three weeks away from our move-in date, hopefully someone will be willing to talk to me!

I’ve been incredibly blessed in my ten years of working to have jobs that I liked (some of them more than others, that’s true, but I have liked them all). I’ve had jobs in which I felt I wasn’t just working and bringing home a pay check, but in which I could also help and serve others. I have always believed in the mission and values of the companies I’ve worked for. I have been incredibly blessed to serve my God and His people these last ten years.

But, as I mentioned in my last post so many months ago, at the end of the summer I’m moving to Wichita, Kansas. I will be leaving another job that I have come to love. (Fortunately I’ve been so busy at that job, I haven’t really had time to dwell on this fact, otherwise I’d probably be a weepy mess.) I will miss the people and the work I’ve been doing; however…

I am beyond excited about the opportunity I’m being given. I have often daydreamed about what it would be like to not have a full time job, to have the freedom and time to pursue a writing career. I have had some very lovely daydreams about this, but I’ve never been able to see it as an actuality. Until now.

Financially, I can’t completely quit working, but, starting in August, I’ll only have to work on a part time basis, and thanks to an opportunity my current employer is giving me, I’ll be able to do that part time work on a freelance basis. I’ll be able to work from home. I’ll set my own schedule. I won’t have to be at work at 8 o’clock in the morning! (Most mornings, I won’t even have to be out of bed by 8 o’clock in the morning.)

This could potentially only be a temporary arrangement. At the end of my husband’s year-long internship, I may have to find some sort of full-time employment again, but I have some big goals for this one year. If I can find enough freelance writing and editing work, I’ll be able to do this long-term. So goal numero uno is to find more clients.

Goal numero dos is to write. And write some more. I’m going to finish a book. I’m going to revise that book. I’m going to look for an agent. And then I’m going to start writing another book. And I’m going to write and write and write.

I can’t wait!!

I was a teenager when I first discovered Beauty and the Beast, and it was Disney who introduced it to me. Belle is my favorite of Disney princesses—I always felt she was the one most like me—and Beauty and the Beast is my favorite of Disney movies. I loved, and still love the story. (In fact, I just saw the live musical version of it on Friday, which is why I decided to reread Rose Daughter.) I have always loved the story, but as I got older and learned more about love, there was something about it that began to sit not quite straight with me. There was something not quite True about it. And I began to wish for a different ending.

Then, about ten years ago, I discovered Robin McKinley’s books, and that discovery led me to Rose Daughter. And McKinley’s telling is True. Even though it’s kind of messy and leaves the more practical side of me puzzling over the logistics, it’s True. It is the love story that Disney’s version, and all the other versions I’ve read, fall short of being. And it has become the definitive version of the story for me. I can only hope that I write something as lovely and as true some day.

Since I’ve never been there, I’m trying to learn as much as I can about the city in preparation for this move. Here’s what I’ve learned so far:

1. Wichita is the geographic center of the country, says this website. But this website also says Wichita is one of the 10 sunniest cities in the country. Further research is not confirming the sunny thing, but all you have to do is look at a map to see that Wichita is right smack dab in the middle of the United States.

2. Further research has shown that:

• Wichita is #4 in Top 10 Cities with Most Weather Variety
• Wichita is #4 in Top 10 Hail Prone Cities
• Kansas is #3 in Top 10 Tornado States
• Wichita is #4 in Top 10 Tornado Prone Cities
• Kansas is neither lightning prone nor lightning safe
• Alton, Kansas (roughly 3 hours north of Wichita) is #5 in 10 All Time Hottest Temps with a temp of 121
• Waco, Texas is #7 in 10 Most Uncomfortable Cities based on summer heat and humidity***
• Of the 50 states, Kansas has received the most F5 tornadoes since 1880.

3. There appear to be a lot of mobile homes for rent in Wichita. Given the above statistics, what person in their right mind would live in a mobile home anywhere in Kansas? I’ve seen what tornadoes do to mobile homes. It’s not pretty.

4. One of the apartment complexes in Wichita has storm shelters.

5. Eighth Day Books (a bookstore I discovered at the Festival of Faith and Writing) is located in Wichita. I will definitely be visiting and possibly applying for employment.

6. The Old Cowtown Museum is in Wichita. I have plans to spend the year researching the Western I’ve always dreamed of writing. I’m convinced there’s a special niche for me in the Western genre. After all, how many women are there writing Westerns?****

*Vicarage is a year-long internship for pastors in the Lutheran church.

** Hoyt’s business district boasts a liquor store, a grocery, and a pizza place whose cleanliness is questionable.

***This has absolutely nothing to do with Wichita or Kansas, but it is where I grew up and where my parents still live. It is also not surprising. Also not related to Kansas: Austin, Texas, and St. Louis, Missouri, are 6th and 7th in Worst Cities for Allergies. Also not surprising. (Although, Kansas City is number 1 on that list…I wonder what that means for Wichita.)

****I actually plan to do research of another sort for a project I’ve been mulling over. I hadn’t planned to set it in Wichita, but I’m thinking it might work as a better setting than what I had in mind. We shall see….

But first, a few thoughts.

Yesterday I went to a session featuring the young adult writer Sara Zarr. I’ve only discovered her writing in the last couple of months. She’s an incredible writer, and a very thoughtful and engaging speaker. Her session was titled “Young Adult Fiction and the Stewardship of Pain,” and asked the question, Can writers act as stewards not only of their own talent but also of the lives (and pain) of their characters?

Growing up going to church, stewardship meant giving more money to the church. As I’ve grown older, I’ve learned that stewardship means so much more than that. It’s about how we take care of and use the gifts God has given us. It means that, yes, I give a portion of my income back to God, but also that I give some of my time as well, and that I use the talents I have to serve Him, because He’s the One who gave them to me. In a lot of ways, I’m still learning exactly what that means and looks like. I think I’ll always be learning.

This workshop made me think about my writing differently. I was thinking that, having this bit of talent and this big passion for writing, I should write. I’m thinking a little differently now. Let’s see if I can work through this in a way that makes sense…

In recent years and explorations of my writing, I have been increasingly drawn toward writing for teens. I went to another session by Sara Zarr on Thursday, a reading of her work, and she said that she writes for teens because the voice in her head, her writer voice, is a 15 year old, and I thought, yes, that’s it, me too. The voices in my head are teenage voices. I don’t know why, but that’s what I’ve been given. (Yes, I know that sounds slightly deranged, but that’s part of being a writer.)

So, I write for teens. And here’s what I got out of this Stewardship of Pain workshop: Writing for teens means dealing with the problems of adolescence with grace, with honesty, and with compassion. It means that even though I, as an adult, recognize so much of the angst and suffering and problems of teens as mostly just “drama,” I have to treat it as though it is real, because for the teen in the midst of it, it is real. I remember being a teen and hearing adults say things like, It’ll get better when you’re older…These things won’t be such a big deal when you grow up…This is just high school, don’t let it worry you too much. And I remember thinking, But I’m dealing with it now!

And, writing for teens, I have to remember that. I have a responsibility to my teen characters and to my (hopefully one day) teen readers, to treat their suffering and pain with kindness and compassion, and with respect. I have a responsibility to model the possibilities that life holds, because (as much as I don’t like to think it) I am an adult. I survived adolescence. I have the responsibility to offer hope, to show grace.

In a way, this kind of freaks me out, because it’s a big responsibility, and that kind of responsibility is scary. But it also makes my soul sing. It gives my writing a deeper meaning than just wanting and liking to tell stories. This, finally, is why I write…to offer hope and to show grace.

Because, as children’s writer Kate DiCamillo said in the session of hers that I attended, “Life is difficult, and literature should reflect that. Life is beautiful, and literature should reflect that.”

On Friday, I looked at my tulips and one of them wasn’t there anymore. The leaves were laying on the ground instead of poking up. I looked closer, and it looks like someone either tore it off (mean!) or some animal came and bit it off and decided it didn’t like the taste.

Today it’s cold-ish and rainy-ish.

Stupid animal ate my springtime.

Well, I’m going. I found a conference that’s early enough in the year that it won’t interfere with other things happening over the summer, and the finances worked out, and the conference I’m going to seems like a different kind of conference. It doesn’t look as scary as some of the big writing conferences.

I’m going to the Festival of Faith and Writing at Calvin College in Michigan. It is, according to the conference website, a gathering of writers and readers who come together to discuss the ways faith is represented in literature. There are workshops specific to writing and getting published, there are workshops on books with common themes, and there are academic workshops, too. And lots of readings, and concerts, and an impressive list of writers who will be presenting and speaking. (Ohmigosh, Kate DiCamillo and Sara Zarr and Avi!!!!) It sounds like more of a celebration of books and writing than anything else, but there will be practical writing specific things too. It seems like the perfect way for me to get my feet wet. However you slice it, I love what they’re offering. I like books. I like writing. I like faith discussions. And I like academia. This sounds like home to me.

In the last few days, some details have come out about what to expect. There’s a part of me that wants to go to this conference and listen and observe. I’m an introvert…I’m very good at listening and observing. But there’s another part of me that wants to just dive in and experience it all and sign up for all the extra things like the Young Adult Fiction discussion group. And there’s a writing workshop that you have to be invited to. Which means I’d have to mail two pages of my writing to the instructor and see if he picks me as one of the 30 people for the workshop.

I think I’m going to do it. I think I’m going to jump in and try all the things available, even though the introvert in me will be hyperventilating and trying to crawl under the tables to hide. I’m not just going to get my feet wet; I’m going to dive in. After all, I have to start somewhere, right?