I realize it’s been about two months since I posted. I guess that’s what happens when you move out of state while at the same time attempting to rebrand your business!

So…yeah! I am now finally settled in to my new home in Austin, TX. Remember way back when I posted about lessons on writing from Pixar? That was inspired by my husband, who’s decided to go back to school and pursue a new career in animation and visual effects! Hence, the move and my little blog sabbatical.

During my time away, while much of my days were spent juggling deadlines and sorting through junk-filled closets, trying to decide what would go in the trash versus what would go in a box with us to Texas, I had a lot of time to think about where my work was headed. When I’d tell people about our upcoming move, so many would say, “Well, at least you can take your work with you.”

I’m lucky that this is true to an extent. I’ve managed to continue working with many of my Miami-based clients, but am also looking forward to expanding my network in Austin. When trying to come up with the most effective way of doing this, I realized the answer was simple: narrow the focus. Which is funny, because that’s the same way I approach writing.

In writing, if every word isn’t getting you closer to your focus, to your main message, then why write it? One of my writer friends described this point nicely by comparing writing to a rubber band—even when you’re stretching it, it has to snap back into place. Even when getting away from your main point, you should still bring the reader back somehow.

So now that I have the chance to rebrand myself in a new network, I realize how important this focus is. On my, oh, 20, 24 hour road trip to Texas, I thought real hard about the type of writing I LOVE to do, which turns out is also the type of writing I do best. And I realized that that should be the focus of everything I do. Every job I take needs to be aligned with my goal to grow in this particular area.

I know you’re probably wondering what this new focus is. I’ll get to it, I swear, but I’m getting a new logo designed and a new business name and new website, and I just think it’ll be more fun to unveil it all at once. It’ll be like a really delayed “TA-DA!” You know, since I missed the new year around here.

I’ve been focusing on redesigning my website lately and that’s created a kind of domino effect with this blog. In writing, you really have to stay focused on the point of the story so that everything you write services it in one way or another, which is why I’ve decided to shift the focus of this blog to just freelance writing. I’ll still be writing about creative writing, but possibly on another blog. I’m still working out all the details, but will let you know the link once everything’s ready.

Aside from the blog, I have some other big news to share in the weeks to come. Let’s just say I’ll be putting the idea that we writers can work from anywhere to a very big test. So expect that things will look a bit different around here in 2010.

On a little side note…am I the only one who feels weird just saying ‘10? It seems we’ve grown so used to saying Oh-nine, Oh-eight, Oh-anything, that one lonely little syllable sounds insufficient all of a sudden. Doesn’t really roll off the tongue, does it?

One of my first jobs was at a magazine that basically had a typo for a name. Of course, it was done on purpose, you know..because it was so clever.

So clever, that at a meeting with a potential client last week, I was asked if that was a typo on my resume.

This happened a lot while I worked at the magazine. I usually had to spell out the name mind numbingly slow (a as in apple, n as in Nancy, for ten whole letters) every time I gave out my email address.

And the thing is, half the time people didn’t get the play on words the magazine was going for. The other half would hesistantly ask, “You know that’s not how it’s really spelled, right?” So then we’d have to explain it to them, and they’d just nod and smile.

The thing with good writing is that it’s like a joke—if you have to repeat it and explain why it’s good, it’s really not that good. Writing shouldn’t need to be read twice (though people should want to), shouldn’t need to be analyzed over and over to find meaning. The message needs to hit a reader the second their eyes register the words, because they won’t often give it more time than that.

Now I know it’s true that being clever is often what will catch a reader’s attention. I’ll never knock clever. Some of my favorite writing is witty and funny and sarcastic in all the right places. But it has to serve the message first.

Otherwise you’ve just got a bad joke (in print!). And you’ll find yourself wishing you could put an asterisk at the bottom of your resume—

*To whom it may concern: I realize that this word is misspelled, but I assure you that it was done on purpose, and, more importantly, I was not in any way involved with that decision.

Here’s a great, quick exercise in evaluating your marketing efforts to make sure they’re paying off. At a networking event I recently attended, Michelle Villalobos of Mivista Consulting asked everyone to write down their Top 5 Clients. Then write down how you got those clients.

Was it through a networking event? A simple Google search leading to your website? Maybe it was through social media or a client referral? Chances are, it’s a mixture of all these things, but if there’s a pattern, that’s something to think about.

For me, two of my biggest clients I met at networking events, two I got through word of mouth, and another I got through my Freelance Marketplace listing on Mediabistro.

Which reinforces two things: networking pays off, and so does nurturing the business relationships you’ve already got. Now I know that when it’s time to ramp up my marketing efforts (and when isn’t it?), I can focus on the things that have worked best for me.

It’s not a bad idea to do this exercise every couple of months, to stay on top of what strategy is most effective, and let go of ones that just aren’t working. You might be surprised what you learn.

It’s funny the random things we learn from. Last night, while watching supplements for the first Harry Potter movie (I think I’m one of the few who watch supplements, thanks to my film-loving husband), one of the writers said something that got me thinking. While adapting the book to a screenplay, he was impressed by the wealth of information J.K. Rowlings had about the world she’d created. He said that the book was like a tree that only those above the ground got to see, while Rowlings knew every detail of every root.

What a great way to describe the relationship between research and writing of any capacity. After all, you’ll never get a tree without the roots. And, even though they’re essential to a tree’s growth, the majority of roots stay underground, where no one would ever suspect how far down they reach, or how much they ground the tree. My first thought was that this is how crafting a character works in fiction—authors should know details about their lives that readers might not ever learn, but they’re the details that shape them.

But then I realized everything we ever write starts with a seed (an idea) before it spreads its roots (the research) and then branches out into a tree (the writing).

Like when I write articles and web copy. People are often surprised by how many questions I ask in my research stages, and how much of that information actually makes it onto a page. I’ve always felt that in order to write about something really well, we have to become mini-experts on the topic. There’s a difference between knowing the basics of what you need to know and understanding why things are the way they are. If a writer only knows the basics, chances are they only know one way to explain it, and it may not be the best way.

So how do we dig (funny how the tree thing works) deeper? I like to call it “playing dumb.” In other words, imagine you’re a blank slate and ask questions. Ask questions even when you think you know the answer. Ask questions even when the answer is implied. Ask questions even when someone else might call it a stupid question. Ask  the same question in a different way. Ask questions born out of other questions and often times, kind of like a child, ask “why is that?” And always ask if there’s anything you haven’t asked, just in case you missed something.

When you get to the writing, maybe 20% of that information will end up in the final product, at least that’s what I’ve noticed in my work. This doesn’t mean I don’t use it—I use all of the information I get, just not in the way most people would expect. I use it simply by absorbing it, so that I have something better than a bunch of scribbled notes to work with. When I have a real knowledge of a topic, the writing comes organically. See? There’s that tree thing again, going just a step too far…

The writing software I use makes you press a button labeled “quit” whenever you exit a file. I was reading through some chapters of my novel in progress last night, and I felt like I was reading it through some muddy glasses through which everything looked terrible. I started to feel embarrassed for myself (you know that feeling when you watch a comedian onstage, but he’s really not funny? It’s the uncomfortable embarrassment that’s the worst). I could see strings of weak sentences, clumps of imagery that were just trying too hard. And I began to feel really, really discouraged. It was my “What the hell am I thinking?” moment, the one where you wonder if you’re the only person in the world crazy enough to have faith in yourself, or if you should just join the skeptics and not risk the disappointment of having tried but gotten nowhere.

I decided to step away from the computer, and when I went to close the file, there was the option staring me in the face: Quit. And I thought, “Okay, so I’m being challenged, but I won’t go down that easy.” I clicked the button, knowing I’d reopen it the very next day, and took the rest of the evening (and I admit, some of this morning) to mope and feel sorry for myself (it’s a process, after all).

Then I realized the fact that I think parts of my work suck is actually a great thing, because if I can see what’s wrong with it, I can fix it. And sure, the beginnings, which I wrote quite some time ago, aren’t my best, but I can see a progression as I get to the more recent writings, and I feel the work gets stronger. So I’ll have to go back and do some major revisions. That was always my plan anyways. What messed me up was that I looked back and lost my focus that had so clearly been fixed on the end.

I have a post-it stuck to my computer now that says “No one ever said this was going to be easy.” Just because we call ourselves writers doesn’t mean it comes easy to us. It probably comes harder, because we have close to impossible standards and expectations of ourselves. The writing I’m most proud of has been far from easy. It’s been grueling, sentence by sentence, word by word, and it’s given me a great understanding of the expression “it’s like pulling teeth.”

Truthfully I’m kinda glad I’ll be asked to “quit” every time I step away from my novel. In a small way it reminds me that it’s not an option. What keeps you from quitting writing?

Last night I went to a reading by the poet Maureen Seaton, who read from her book of poems, Cave of the Yellow Volkswagen, her memoir, Sex Talks to Girls and her chapbook, America Loves Carney. The theme of these readings at the University of Miami is “Lyric Hybrid,” because all the writers have stepped outside of their usual genres to explore new forms of writing. You can listen to last night’s reading and the previous one by A. Manette Ansay on UM’s Creative Writing website.

My favorite part of the night was when talk turned to whether or not Seaton had thought of writing a novel. She replied that she’d tried, that she had a lot of scenes written, but no plot. She joked that she was waiting for the Plot Fairy to bring her one.

So I’ve been thinking a lot about this Plot Fairy. Maybe she’s like the tooth fairy, and if I leave a little pouch under my pillow filled with pointless scenes pulled out of the mouth of my manuscript, she’ll come in the middle of the night and leave a crisp, new index card full of brilliant plot points. Or is she from the Tinkerbell lineage of fairies, sprinkling plot dust over my head while I sleep at night, making me dream of the one event that will have the perfect amount of cause-and-effect to piece everything together? Does she accept trades? Perhaps she’ll trade some excessive backstory for an event that forces my protagonist to make an important choice. And does she also do matchmaking work, to make sure that the subplots in the story are contributing to the overall plot?

Sounds like the Plot Fairy has a lot of work cut out for her, and I hear she’s been working overtime, with NaNoWriMo coming up, so I doubt she’ll be coming by my place for a while.

Which means I’ll just have to do all the work myself—making words appear, and then transforming them into other words, or making them disappear all together. It’s not as fancy as pixie dust or flying, but some days when I get it right—corny as this may sound— it can feel like magic.

Today I’m writing about family relationships as part of a mass blogging event.*

One of my favorite first lines (from a book I’ll admit I haven’t finished reading) is from Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina—

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

Writing about family relationships in some capacity is almost inevitable when you’re writing a work of fiction. Even if your story isn’t about family relationships, we usually end up learning about a character’s family life and childhood because it’s part of what makes them who they are.

I think of  Tolstoy’s words often because they apply so well to writing, and not just to writing about families. Every well-developed character has their own version of what happiness is and what happiness isn’t. One person’s hell might be another person’s bliss. Everyone’s happy or unhappy in their own special way.

One of my favorite memories is from the summer when my family and I lived in Texas. Being from Peru, then living in Miami, we weren’t used to living far from a beach, so we’d drive two hours every weekend to South Padre Island, listening to the Beatles’ “Hard Day’s Night” album on cassette. We’d pack a huge cooler full of chips, sodas, and sandwiches, and we’d play volleyball and paddleball, and when the sun was about to set and we’d run out of food, we’d drive back home.

To me, it was bliss. But maybe to some other kid, in some other family with a different family relationship, it would have sucked. Maybe he was afraid of the water, or his parents were too overprotective of him, never letting him step outside of an umbrella’s protection. Maybe a summer like this would’ve been like dangling a carrot before his eyes, reminding him of a childhood he could never have.

Which brings me to the exercise: Write a scene about a character’s happiest family memory, then use the same events to write about another character’s worst family memory. Both memories are the same, and the only variables are the characters and their family relationships—but that makes all the difference.

Feel free to post your scenes below or link to your blog so we can read them!

*Today I’m participating in a mass blogging. WOW! Women on Writing has gathered a group of blogging buddies to write about family relationships. Why family relationships? We’re celebrating the release of Therese Walsh’s debut novel today. The Last Will of Moira Leahy (Random House, October 13, 2009) is about a mysterious journey that helps a woman learn more about herself and her twin, whom she lost when they were teenagers. Visit the Muffin www.wow-womenonwriting.com/blog.html to read what Therese has to say about family relationships and view the list of all my blogging buddies. And make sure you visit theresewalsh.com to find out more about the author.

In freelancing, it’s totally possible to be swamped even when you’re not swamped with work. Allow me to explain.

We’ve all heard of the ebb and flow cycle. The way it basically works is that when things are ebbing we run around trying to make them flow, and when they finally flow they usually overflow, and we end up wishing we’d appreciated the downtime when we had it.

You know, it’s the whole “grass is greener when you have no time to lie in it and read a good book” theory.

So really, there is no downtime, even in times when work is slow, because when work is slow I pick up my marketing efforts. I go to more networking events, I schedule more meetings with potential clients and spend time researching publications and pitching them.

When I don’t have a lot of work coming in, there’s no end to how much I’ll do to bring the work back in. And since networking and sending out proposals and pitches aren’t the kinds of things that show instant results, nothing ever feels like it’s enough. My time management skills pretty much disappear and I become swamped with the non-work work.

Until that one contract gets signed. And then another, and another…and poof! Suddenly I’m busy again and I have a set schedule. I’m the type of person who’s so deadline-driven that if I forget to write something on my to-do list I’ll still write it in after I’m done, just to get the satisfaction of checking it off the list.

The only thing that doesn’t end up making it onto the list is some downtime. And really, I’m not sure that it should. Downtime outside of work is one thing, and I’m all for that. But when there’s downtime in my freelancing, I remember my internship at an ad agency my freshmen year in college. At one point, I thought I had nothing to do, until my boss saw me doing nothing and gave me the task of archiving their entire stock of digital images.

Lesson learned: There’s always something we could be doing.

When I started this blog I aimed to post at least three times a week, and in the past couple of weeks I’ve only been able to post about twice a week. Even though I’m sure I have a readership of about ten (that’s being kind, I’m sure) I still feel a responsibility to update frequently, so I apologize. I’ve just been swamped. If you were to come into my office right now it’d look a lot like this:

While I’m excited to be busy I always feel sooooo guilty about all the printing my work requires. Reading on a laptop only goes so far for me, especially when it comes to editing. Tomorrow I have to buy a new ream of paper (recycled, of course) and fresh toner for the printer, so the guilt keeps piling up. My next mission will be to make my office more eco-friendly. I’ll keep you posted on how it goes…