<![CDATA[Michelle Lashier - Blog]]>Fri, 04 Apr 2025 21:42:25 -0700Weebly<![CDATA[Series Struggles]]>Sat, 22 Feb 2025 04:00:00 GMThttps://www.michellelashier.com/blog/series-strugglesIn the days when I dreamed of writing a book someday, I had this ridiculous notion that once my first book was written, everything would be smooth sailing from then on.

Eleven years after my first book was published, I know better. 

Yes, some aspects of writing are easier than they used to be. But a lot of things are still hard and probably always will be. New challenges I didn’t expect always present themselves in each book. 

If you’ve dreamed of writing a series, perhaps this account of my struggles with each book will give you courage and help you learn from my mistakes. 

SPOILER WARNING: What follows is a cleaned-up version of the notes I took after writing each book and contains mild spoilers of plot and character developments.

Quivers and Quills

What was easy:
Jill’s storyline - Everything she experiences came together quickly and barely changed from what I originally conceived for her in 2002.

Character creation - My sister and I played Robin Hood pretend games for most of our childhood. Since many merry men and their personalities were directly drawn from our childhood games, I never had trouble deciding on the characters and their motivations.

Research - I love the Robin Hood myth, and I’ve read every book about Robin Hood and the Middle Ages that I could get my hands on in the last thirty years. When I started writing this story, I had just visited the ruins of Nottingham Castle and Sherwood Forest, both of which inspired this novel.

What was hard:
Joanna: I had no idea what to do with her. For a while, I even deleted her from the story.

Guy of Gisbourne: I desperately wanted to find a way to redeem Guy, but unfortunately, he wouldn’t turn from his evil ways. That’s when I created Gavin, who pretended to be good for a little while...

Plotting a mystery: Once I decided to make Joanna an amateur detective, I had to retrofit the manuscript with a mystery plot. I don’t recommend doing this because it’s very, very difficult. 

Having two main characters: Plotting and keeping straight two main characters, two competing storylines, and two points of view (POV) felt like an organizational and plotting nightmare.

Project management: When you self-publish on a budget, you’re alone. Working with vendors and distribution sites and handling manuscript formatting and website creation while sticking to a schedule was brutal. It was more challenging because I was doing it at night and on weekends while keeping a full-time day job.

Self-publishing when you’ve never done it before is challenging and time-consuming. Learning all the ins and outs of working with a cover designer, formatting the book, and navigating the various distribution sites took hours.

What I learned for the future:
If I’m writing a book with any element of mystery, I should plot the mystery first and then plan the adventure story around it. 

Whether plotting or drafting, I write as much as possible from one twin’s perspective before switching to the other. When I do need to switch perspectives, I wait until the next day before doing so. This prevents me from getting confused about whose head I’m supposed to be in.

All the research for a book doesn’t have to be done at once or before one starts writing. I should research only as much as the story requires so I don’t get bogged down in details I’ll never use. (“I need to research that before I can write” is a clever excuse not to write.)

Gold Bars and Tin Stars

What was easy:
I grew up watching and reading Westerns, so I understood the structure and the tropes and had a good idea of what I wanted to do with them.

While I still did a lot of research for the book, I didn’t research so much that it overwhelmed or stalled my writing.

I planned a major plot twist in this book and am still pleased with how I pulled that off.

While I was writing this book, my family and I traveled to Arizona, allowing me to experience several Old West towns and theatrical shootouts, which directly inspired several scenes in the books. Places I visited on the trip and events I witnessed (such as a staged shoot-out at Goldfield Ghost Town) gave me ideas to overcome several story problems I encountered in the draft.

What was hard:
In this book, I introduce a new main character to the series. This character was challenging until I figured out who he was and what role he would play in the series.

I needed significant revision time to shake off my academic writing training (which involved writing complicated, literary, descriptive sentences) and adopt a style more conducive to adventure stories.

What I learned:
While my POV characters were limited to the twins (and Rob when the twins weren’t present), I recognized I had four main series characters now and that each one needed a character arc, not just in this book but in all the books that followed. That meant more planning would be required going forward.

When I wrote the first draft of Quivers, I really thought it would be one book and done. As a result, I didn’t spend enough time building the world of the story. This meant that while writing Gold Bars, I had to retrofit the world-building into what I had already done and start planning how to move forward with the series. The next time I write a series, I’ll do more of that planning with book 1.

While I wanted each book to have tropes unique to the series (for example, Joanna getting rescued), I worried the plots would become too similar. I determined to mix things up in the next book and to conclude the series when I ran out of new ways to tell the stories.

Portals and Poison

What was easy:
I wrote this book while unemployed, so I had plenty of uninterrupted time to think, write, and research. Fellow writers will understand what a luxury it is to devote oneself to a personal writing project full-time.

Since one of the main characters is unemployed in the book, I exorcised some personal job-search demons while writing the first draft.

Creating the fictional country of Pavalonia was a lot more fun than I expected. Returning to Pavalonia or referencing its culture in the series remains a continual source of joy.

What was hard:
The story requires four points of view. Deciding which viewpoint to use for which events and jumping between the heads of four POV characters made me question my sanity. More than once I wondered, “Why do I make writing so hard for myself?”

Jill’s trips to the past don’t follow a neat chronological order. Keeping straight the dates and times she visited and the order in which she experienced them was a challenge.

I struggled to connect with Rob as a main character since his background differed significantly from mine. But once I “discovered” he had a difficult childhood (I had a lovely childhood, by the way), Rob became more sympathetic to me, making writing his perspective easier. 

I doubted my ability to write effectively from a male perspective and struggled with the guys’ storyline until I wrote the scene where they were tied up in the barn. That was the moment when everything about their relationship clicked for me. Once that scene was written, I rewrote their scenes to lead up to and naturally flow from that interaction.

What I learned:
Having four POV characters in one novel is difficult. In the future, I plan to limit the point of view to the twins unless there is a strong and compelling reason to tell the story from another character’s POV.

If I write a story with multiple timelines, I have to plan each one carefully and write one timeline at a time. After each timeline is written, I reorder the scenes to fit with all the other timelines and scenes (like reshuffling a deck of cards–I can’t do it until all the cards exist).

Inkwells and Jail Cells

What was easy:
I knew my four main characters well and created situations that played to their strengths, weaknesses, and relationships with other characters.

I had been plotting Frank and Elizabeth’s involvement in this book for quite some time, so I had a good idea of their characters, motivations, and actions and was excited to include them.

The outline for my rough draft came together easily. That original outline remains the plot of the published book with almost no changes, something that rarely happens to me.

What was hard:
I had quite a few personal difficulties while writing this manuscript. Unfortunately, the more tumultuous my personal life is, the more challenges I experience in my fiction writing. 

My dad died in 2014. Writing Frank into this book in 2018 and thinking about my dad was bittersweet in ways I hadn’t anticipated and re-opened my grief.

Frank and Elizabeth almost ran away with this book. I had given so much thought to what they were doing that the two of them took valuable page time away from the twins.

I enjoy working with a large cast of characters, but the cast for this book was almost too big to manage. I had to keep looking for ways to separate the group so I could work with fewer characters in each scene.

The first draft of this book is the worst first draft I’ve ever written–no kidding. During the intensive revision process, I seriously doubted if there was anything in the book worth saving.

What I learned:
When I have too many characters, I have to find logical reasons to reduce the number of characters in a scene; otherwise, writing a dialogue between eight or more characters is very difficult–if not impossible.

I will always write messy first drafts, and that’s okay. Now, when other authors talk about how they can write clean first drafts that only require minor revision before publication, I plug my ears and remind myself that the only writing process I should worry about is my own.

Forcing myself to write a scene when I’m not ready to write a scene is pointless. I forced myself to finish the last 20% of the book by a deadline even though I wasn’t ready. I then spent 80% of my revision time on the last 20% of the book. Forcing an ending before the book was ready wasted my time.

Serpents and Sharks

What was easy:
All the world-building, character development, and planning I had done for previous books paid off in this book because I had resources I could refer back to rather than having to make things up.

I had never written a MacGuffin plot before, and I found, to my delight, that it’s much easier to plot than a mystery.

I played with my usual structure and tropes to try to do something different that still stayed true to the spirit of the series and gave the characters a chance to grow.

What was hard:
I had too many villains and had to reduce their numbers and vary their levels of villainy, a more difficult task than I had presumed it would be.

This book has a third POV character who is also a main character (at least in this book). I needed three revisions to get that character to a place where she was sympathetic enough that you didn't want to push her off a cliff.

In my outline, I purposefully put the twins in situations out of their comfort zones. In so doing, I sometimes struggled to find ways to have the twins stay in character while handling the new situations.

This book went through three significant revisions before it had an ending. 

What I learned:
If an ending isn’t working, the problem likely comes much earlier in the story. Fix the earlier problem first before trying to force an ending.

Writing a draft backward actually works, especially when 75% of the book is written. I knew the outline of the final chapter, but I couldn’t figure out how to get there. To trick my brain into finding a logical conclusion to the story, I wrote the last chapter first and then wrote backward, one chapter at a time, until I found a way to make what I was writing fit into what I had already written.

The ending makes all the difference. Before the ending was written, I hated this manuscript. Once I had an ending, my feelings about the time book became more positive.

Not every single scene must play out in real-time for the reader. Sometimes, summarizing a plot point is the best way to handle it. Regardless of what the writing books say, telling can be better than showing in the right circumstances.

Joyriders

What was easy:
Making the main characters middle-aged: Writing about 20 and 30 years olds when I’m middle-aged has required me to think about how my own life has changed in the last 20 years, so it wasn’t hard to imagine how the twins and their husbands had changed over time and yet remained the same.

Revisiting Sherwood: I’d been looking for a way to get the characters back to Sherwood, and it was so much fun to revisit the merry men and continue their adventures.

Rob and Robin Hood looking alike: I’d been planning a way to make this detail pay off for years, and I was delighted to finally  explore what it would be like for Jill to have briefly dated the famous outlaw but now be married to his twenty-first-century doppelganger. Everything I wrote for this storyline was sheer joy.

What was hard:
I encountered many issues with my health, my day job, and my family that made my everyday life quite dramatic, which meant I had very little energy or will to create drama on the page.

Plotting the part 2: The main characters of part 2 visited so many times and overlapped the part 1 storylines so much that I struggled to work it all out.

Writing about the same event from two different perspectives: While it was necessary to show different perspectives of the same events, I had to stop in each scene and determine what added value I could bring to the second telling. This is the most complex writing challenge I’ve ever given myself.

Making sure I closed all the time loops in the story and the series: I had pages of notes of things I needed to wrap up. In the first draft, I closed every single time loop but then realized that readers wouldn’t care, and I needed to choose judiciously what time loops to close for the reader and which ones to delete (even though I knew how they resolved for my satisfaction).

Keeping a consistent tone with the rest of the series: My first draft was pretty dark due to all the personal drama I was experiencing. A lot of editing was required to make the tone of this manuscript consistent with the tone of the other books in the series.

What I learned:
If the old way isn’t working, try something new. This seems like common sense, but trying something new is a lot harder than it looks. None of my previous writing techniques helped me finish this book. I had to create new ones.

How to use unreliable narrators: I’d always wanted to try writing unreliable narrators, and actually doing it was so much fun!

Endings must be satisfying–which is a lot harder than you think. I spent a lot of time thinking about what ending would be best for each character and then coordinating all those endings for each character to make it so.

It’s okay to end something: I am fond of these characters and their stories. So much of this series is tied up in in-jokes with my family, personal experience, and things I’m passionate about. But everything has to end eventually, and it took courage to say this was the end.
​
I need to write shorter books. This was my longest book so far, which is part of why it took so long to write, revise, and publish. I've got to find a way to write shorter books so I don't exhaust myself in the process.
]]><![CDATA[Top 10 Lessons I Learned from Writing My First Series]]>Fri, 21 Feb 2025 02:07:10 GMThttps://www.michellelashier.com/blog/top-10-lessons-i-learned-from-writing-my-first-series​Recently, I fulfilled a lifelong dream of publishing an entire original book series. While publishing took eleven years, the writing spanned over twenty years–close to half my life. The ending of such a significant portion of my creative life has led me to reflect on many lessons I learned the hard way.

Lesson 10: Think about what the book covers should look like in advance of writing the book.

​When I was writing the draft of Quivers and Quills, I gave no thought to cover design. At that point, I still hoped that I could pawn off that decision onto someone else. But when I decided to self-publish, I realized that person was me.

I researched book covers and designers and ultimately paid a designer to create a cover I love, but the process was arduous because I had no idea what I wanted. Even worse, I had no idea what would sell. I wish I had been more aware of other books in my genre and noted the covers of books that sold well. 

What I’ll do differently next time:
  1. Keep a file of successful book covers in my genre so I know what readers are attracted to.
  2. Take notes about ideas for the cover as I write so I have ideas to draw from when it’s time to order the cover.
  3. Use AI tools to help me generate cover ideas (I don’t draw well) that I can file away and show to a designer when the time comes. Chat GPT’s image generator was crucial in helping me communicate what I thought I wanted with the cover designer of Joyriders. AI didn’t replace a live person designer, but it didn’t help me communicate my visual ideas more clearly.

Lesson 9: Avoid locking myself into unique wording or phrasing conventions in titles.

I’m bad at titles. I always have been. A cute phrase, alliteration, poetic device, or literary/pop-culture reference may seem great for one book. However, putting pressure on myself to continue that convention for multiple books is self-defeating and discouraging. That’s why Joyriders strays from the title conventions of the previous five books. The story demanded a different title.

What I’ll do in the future:
  1. Carefully select a series name that communicates the essential aspects of the book to take the pressure off the title itself.
  2. Let the title of a book be whatever it needs to be–forget conventions!

Lesson 8: Employ however many POV characters I need to serve the story.

One of the tenets of “good writing” that got drilled into my head while earning my MFA was that a book should have very few point-of-view characters. I understand why only one POV is necessary in a short story, especially if one is teaching fiction. I understand how limited POV brings cohesion to a longer story, such as a novel. But after writing six books in the series, I’ve decided this is an unnecessary rule. 

For Quivers and Quills, it made sense to have only Jill and Joanna’s perspectives since they are the “fish out of water” characters and they are apart for most of the plot, so both their perspectives are necessary. I maintained Jill and Joanna’s perspectives throughout the series, but deviations became necessary in each story. For example,
  1. In Gold Bars and Tin Stars, Rob became a POV character because the reader needed to know what was happening in the twenty-first century while the twins were time-traveling.
  2. The bromance I planned for Portals and Poison required both Rob and Liam to be POV characters, especially since they were traveling apart from the twins. However, balancing four POV characters was really tough. I doubted my sanity most of the time and swore I would never have that many POV characters again. That’s why Inkwells and Jail Cells reverted to only Jill and Joanna as POV characters.
  3. In Serpents and Sharks, the story required Brenna’s perspective, so she became a new POV character.
  4. As I was writing Joyriders, the need for two additional POV characters beyond Jill and Joanna became apparent. But, remembering my struggles with four POV characters in Portals, I chose to use Jill and Joanna’s POV for the first part of the book and the other two POV characters for the second part.

The more I read, the more I discover successful authors who employ multiple POV characters. Louise Penny’s Inspector Gamache series and Richard Osman’s Thursday Murder Club series are excellent examples of authors jumping into the heads of whatever character best serves the moment.

What I’ll do in the future:
  1. Employ as many POV characters as serve the story while trying to keep this to a reasonable number so I don’t go out of my mind trying to figure out what goes on in each character’s head. (Sometimes it’s better not to know.)

Lesson 7: Only research what’s necessary for the book.

I love research. There are many, many days when I would rather research than write. While I believe research is valuable, it’s also a handy procrastination tool: “I can’t write this story because I need to research the time period/geography/food/clothing/political climate/weather/vegetation more.” While sometimes this is true, there’s a time when I’m researching as a way to kill time. This was certainly true for me when writing Quivers and Gold Bars. I had a lot of fun, but I spent my energy on research instead of writing.

What I’ll do in the future:
  1. Write first, make a list of what I need to research, and then go back and research only what I need.

Lesson 6: Build an ensemble cast of characters.

Something I didn’t discover until I started writing a series is that I love a good ensemble cast and the chance for them to shine. The Time-Traveling Twins series focuses on the twins and those closest to them. This was a rule I set early on to help me focus my energy on the main story and not waste more time than I already do on subplots.

Another issue I discovered is that as much as I loved the twins, their perspectives on life didn’t always reflect my middle-aged cynicism and frustration with growing responsibility. Since my cynicism and responsibility have only increased, I’ve channeled much of that into Liam and Rob. Without the ability to express more life perspectives than what the twins embodied, I wouldn’t have been able to finish the series.

What I’ll do in the future:
  1. Create a more diverse ensemble with various perspectives, interests, ages, and backgrounds so I can explore whatever theme or story idea is relevant to my life as I’m writing.
  2. Look for ways to include more middle-aged and older characters as main characters in my fiction. While I love to read the occasional YA book, I’m getting older, and I want to write about characters who are also getting older while still leaving room for myself to tell the stories of younger characters when I wish.

Lesson 5: Spend more time world-building in advance.

When I started writing Quivers, I had no idea it would be a series. So, I didn’t invest the time in world-building that I wish I had. This negligence (or ignorance) caused me significant creative issues in Joyriders as I tried to find solutions for problems I could have avoided if I’d created more precise rules about how time travel works earlier in the series.

Here’s a prime example: In Quivers, the Widow Tinsley disappears from the middle of a room. In Joyriders, I had to figure out how that was possible since it didn’t correspond to the rules of time travel I made up as I worked my way through the series.

What I’ll do in the future:
  1. Actually spend time building the world in advance of the story rather than making it up as I go.
  2. Leave room for escalation and growth so the world I build can sustain multiple stories over time.

Lesson 4: Keep good notes.

While writing a book, I cannot imagine ever forgetting anything about something so precious to me. But invariably, once I move on to the next book in the series, I forget important aspects of the previous books. This was especially true of physical descriptions of places and the names of minor characters. I had some maps and diagrams I had drawn of Pavalonia, but almost everything else lived only in the pages of my previously published books.

As I was writing Joyriders, I wanted the characters to revisit locations from the previous five books. Since I didn’t keep good notes, I spent hours re-reading my books to find the information I needed.

What I’ll do in the future:
  1. Take the time to draw a map or diagram. While I may see a scene clearly in my head right now, I likely won’t remember it in twelve months.
  2. Save all maps and diagrams I draw in a file.
  3. Build a character list with brief descriptions and inspirational photos to help me remember all the minor characters.
  4. Keep notes on place names and how I describe locations if I want to revisit them in future books.

Lesson 3: Write shorter books.

I feel so strongly about this lesson that I almost made it number one. Every book in the Time-Traveling Twins series is at least 100,000 words. The final book is just shy of 150,000 words. I love reading long books, but writing long books is entirely different.

Writing all those words in the first place takes a very long time, especially when one has a day job. A long draft can take years to write, and sustaining the level of enthusiasm for the story throughout multiple years is impossible.
  1. After the book is written, editing all those words takes an incredibly long time. 
  2. The longer a book is, the longer an editor will need to review it, and the more it will cost since most editors charge by the word.
  3. All the reasons above mean books in the series can’t be released very often.
  4. The longer the book, the more it costs to print or deliver the digital file, which means fewer royalties (since I refuse to mark up the book price to counteract this).

What I’ll do in the future:
  1. Aim for manuscripts between 50,000-80,000 words and see if writing a shorter story increases my enjoyment.
  2. Cut up big stories into smaller segments so they can be told in a series of books rather than one giant book. 

Lesson 2: Cut some subplots.

Oh, how I love subplots! I love them so much that I generate them in every rough draft paragraph without even meaning to. But the problem with subplots is that they multiply like rabbits and confuse everyone, including me. If I want to write shorter books, something has to be cut, and that will be the subplots. Sometimes simpler really is better.

What I’ll do in the future:
  1. Be brutal with myself about what subplots are necessary for a story, and then cut the rest.
  2. Keep a file of subplot ideas for the series. If I have to cut a subplot from one book, maybe I can use it in another.

Lesson 1: End it when it’s time.

Most of my favorite book series have a final book. Something about an ending makes all the books in a series more precious. I feel that way about TV shows too. Not every show or book series should go on for twenty seasons or books. Some of them need to be just a few excellent shows or stories so that I can savor their limited excellence. While I’m always sad when a series I love ends, I like that the author brought them to a conclusion the way he/she wanted. 

How do you know when it’s time to end a series? I don’t know how it works for other authors, but I knew it was time when there were other stories I wanted to tell more than the ones in the series. Also, the characters in the Time-Traveling Twins series were so infused with situations from my family and personal life that as dynamics and situations changed, I needed to cut ties with the series to stay healthy and grow creatively.

What I’ll do in the future:
  1. Pay attention to when I think a series should end.
  2. Plan the proper ending for a series when I start it so I know where I’m headed.
  3. End the series when it’s time, no matter how many or how few books are in the series.
  4. Give readers a sense of closure when the series ends–something I hope I did well in Joyriders.
]]><![CDATA[I Wrote My Own Holiday Movie]]>Fri, 20 Dec 2024 03:49:21 GMThttps://www.michellelashier.com/blog/i-wrote-my-own-holiday-movie​“Michelle, I don’t know what to do,” the email began. 

I was at work, and the message was from one of the many consultants I work with.

“I just got my check from your company, but when I opened the envelope, a second envelope was glued to it. Without thinking, I opened the second envelope to discover someone else’s check. What should I do?”

This is the third time in a month that the mailing machine has glued multiple envelopes together, causing consultants to receive other people’s paychecks. It isn’t my fault, but I want people to get paid, and making the situation right is absolutely my job. This involved contacting all the affected consultants, explaining our mailing machine malfunction, sharing how we would make the situation right, and apologizing profusely. 

One of the affected consultants, whom I know to have a sharp wit and excellent sense of humor, responded to my apology email, saying, “This is a hilariously old-fashioned problem that feels like a holiday movie in the making. I challenge you to workshop a plot in which two envelopes are stuck together, and hijinks ensue.”

Yes, I thought. I accept this challenge.

So, on my lunch break, I spent 15 minutes writing 85% of what you see below. Once home, I fleshed the plot out a bit more. The creation of this silly story brought me more joy than almost anything else I’ve done this Christmas season, and I share it for your enjoyment. 

Stuck with Christmas

A Holiday movie plot by Michelle Lashier
A single, big-city lawyer (who is also incredibly attractive and has perfectly curled hair) goes home to Backwater, Minnesota, for the holidays to care for her aging father. He’s broken a hip, and he’s not able to take care of himself in the big old house he used to share with his wife (the lawyer’s mother) before she died years ago. By the way, he has no Internet.

The lawyer doesn’t have enough vacation, leave, or money to take time off from her very important job at a prestigious law firm in the big city, so she brings her laptop to keep up her caseload in Backwater. But since Dad’s house has no Internet, she’s forced to work for several hours a day at the local coffee shop.

One day, while the lawyer is working at the coffee shop, she has a meet-cute with the local widowed hardware store owner when their coffee orders get mixed up. They immediately hate each other for no reason.

The lawyer is working on a crucial case, but in the stress of hurrying home to care for Dad (who is not taking medical advice as he should), she forgot to bring the case files with her. Her legal assistant in the big city tries to email the files, but the lawyer can’t download the PDFs on the coffee shop’s weak Wi-Fi. The documents must be mailed–and fast–via the US Postal Service because that’s the only delivery service that comes to Backwater.

Meanwhile, our hardware store guy is having a rough time. He’s just been served lawsuit papers. A former employee took a turn too fast while driving the forklift in the lumber yard, sprained his neck, and must wear a neck brace all the time. The former employee is suing for damages and workmen’s comp.

The hardware store guy has no idea how he will pay legal fees to defend himself. To make matters worse, he has twin daughters with crooked teeth who desperately need braces. He’s been so stressed that he hasn’t bought any Christmas presents yet. Even worse, if he loses the lawsuit, he’ll lose the hardware store.

An elderly US Postal Service employee who looks suspiciously like Santa Claus delivers a large envelope full of the lawyer’s case files to the door of her father’s home. Stressed by caring for her father, balancing a job, and having no Internet, the lawyer opens the envelope. Another envelope has been mysteriously stuck to it. Distracted, she opens the second envelope, believing it to be hers as well, and dumps all the contents on the kitchen table to go through later because Dad needs help again with something.

Later that evening, when Dad is in bed, the lawyer starts sorting her papers. In the stack, she discovers a copy of a lawsuit filing that isn’t hers. Confused, she retrieves the envelopes from the trash and realizes that another envelope was stuck to hers, and she opened that envelope by mistake. She notes that the second envelope and the lawsuit papers belong to the hardware store guy. She knows she shouldn’t read the lawsuit, but she does anyway, and now she’s fully briefed on the legal battles the hardware store guy is facing.

The next morning, the lawyer drops by the hardware store to return the lawsuit papers to their rightful owner. Sheepishly, she explains how the envelopes were stuck together and how she opened his by mistake. They’re both embarrassed that she’s seen the contents of his envelope. As he quickly exits to help a customer, the lawyer notices two little girls with crooked teeth playing dolls behind the cash register.

The lawyer talks with the girls and asks them what they want for Christmas. “All we want for Christmas is a new mommy. Ours is dead,” the little girls say. The lawyer is taken aback. 

The hardware store guy is back before she can make an uncomfortable exit. She apologizes again for opening his mail. Because she prattles endlessly when she’s nervous or embarrassed (but that never happens in the courtroom, only around cute guys), she admits that she read the lawsuit and feels bad for the hardware store guy’s legal troubles.

At this tiny act of sympathy, the hardware store guy spills his guts about everything wrong in his life.

Greatly moved, the lawyer offers to represent him and help with the lawsuit. Her offer of help moves him. Dislike turns to romantic sparks. He invites her to the Christmas tree lighting in the town square that evening.

The lawyer and the hardware store guy bond over hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and cinnamon at the Christmas tree lighting event. Despite the temperature being twenty below, everyone is dressed like it’s 60 degrees (revealing this was filmed in Vancouver because no true Minnesotan would be dumb enough to spend time outside in twenty below without being properly geared up).

As the little girls skate arm-in-arm around the ice rink at the town square and laugh excitedly with other town children, the lawyer and the hardware store guy share emotional truths and experience deep bonding and connection.

In a stroke of Christmas magic, they catch sight of the hardware store guy’s former employee. The former employee is not wearing a neck brace and is dashing around town like someone who is entirely healthy. Clearly, this former employee isn’t really injured and is just milking the situation. The lawyer promises to work her legal magic and get this case thrown out of court. The hardware store guy is grateful, but he can’t pay her. That’s okay, she assures him. She’ll do it pro bono as a sort of Christmas gift.

The next day, as the lawyer goes to city hall to file for the lawsuit to be dismissed, she runs into the local busybody, who is also attractive and has a strong dislike for the lawyer. The busybody shares that she and the hardware store guy have been dating for six months, and she expects him to propose this Christmas.

The lawyer is devastated by this news. Obviously, this random busybody is telling the truth. The lawyer’s romantic dreams about the hardware store guy are dashed. But because she’s a lawyer with ethics and a woman of her word, she files for the dismissal as promised.

In an eerily fast legal process on December 23, the lawyer goes before the judge and gets the lawsuit thrown out. The hardware store guy is incredibly grateful and suggests he and the lawyer get coffee together to celebrate. But she brushes him off. She’s not fond of men lying to her, and the hardware store guy obviously staged the entire stuck envelope situation and his apparent attraction to her to manipulate her into representing him in court for free. She’s bitter and hates all men except dear old Dad, who tries to offer words of wisdom, but the lawyer won’t listen.

The hardware store guy doesn’t understand why the lawyer brushed him off. On the morning of December 24, he goes to the coffee shop hoping to see her again, but she’s not there. Instead, he meets the busybody who can’t keep her mouth shut, even when it serves her own purpose. The busybody admits she told the lawyer that she and the hardware store guy had been dating for six months.

“We went out twice for coffee!” he exclaims. “I told you repeatedly that I didn’t like you like that.”

“You can’t blame me for protecting my territory,” the busybody says.

The hardware store guy hurriedly closes his store, packs his girls up in his beat-up red pickup truck, and drives to the lawyer’s house. She doesn’t want to talk to him, but he pushes his girls forward. The twins hand the lawyer two envelopes that have been stuck together.

Reluctantly, the lawyer opens the first envelope. Inside is a card with these words in a child’s handwriting: “Will you please…” Confused, the lawyer opens the second envelope that was stuck to it and finds the second card that reads, “Marry our daddy?”

The lawyer is shocked into silence. The hardware store guy uses this opportunity to explain how the busybody lied. He gets down on one knee in the snow and gives the lawyer his best puppy dog eyes while the two little girls smile at her, revealing their crooked teeth.

The lawyer is convinced. She says yes.

The lawyer and the hardware store guy kiss. The little girls cheer. This is true love.

The lawyer immediately decides to give up her big city life to open a tiny law office in Backwater so that she and the hardware store guy can marry and raise his daughters together. Also, the lawyer has a savings account that can be used to straighten the girls’ teeth. No girl in America should have anything less than perfect teeth.

“We’re getting a mommy for Christmas!” the little girls squeal in unison.

Cut to Christmas morning. Dad is sitting in a comfortable chair by the fire as the hardware store guy and the lawyer watch the little girls open myriads of presents the lawyer mysteriously had time to buy and ship overnight on Christmas Eve. The families have already blended. Life is bliss.

As the camera pulls away from the happy family, a mail truck drives by. Inside is the same man who delivered the stuck-together envelopes, and we can see clearly that the mailman truly was Santa Claus. He winks at the camera.
The end
]]><![CDATA[Lessons from the Tortoise and the Hare]]>Wed, 25 Apr 2018 21:12:44 GMThttps://www.michellelashier.com/blog/lessons-from-the-tortoise-and-the-hareI’ve always disliked the fable “The Tortoise and the Hare.” If you haven’t heard it before, here’s a brief summary:

The hare, who runs very quickly, races the tortoise, who moves very slowly. Because the hare knows he’s faster, he stops to take a nap, during which time the tortoise passes him and wins the race.​

I disliked it because it never felt true for me. Most re-tellings of this fable end with a moral similar to the ones below:
As an article from TV Tropes rightly points out, “Slow and steady will only win the race if your opponent acts like a fool. In any other case, slow and steady won't win you any race at all.”

It’s true. Slow and steady are not rewarded in modern American culture. We are obsessed with speed. We want fast food, fast Internet, fast workers, fast commutes, fast answers, fast results...the list doesn’t stop.

Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with being fast...if you’re a hare. 

But the world is full of more than hares . . . 

Unfortunately, this fact hasn’t stopped the hares from telling all the other animals that “Fast is best.” Nor has it stopped the other animals from believing this lie, including the lie that racing is required.

I used to subscribe to a lot of blogs and podcasts that talk about writing, side hustles, and creative pursuits. Almost every single one shares a tip (or an advertisement for a product) that will make me create faster and earn money faster. Because faster is better, right? In fact, “fast” appears to be king of the independent publishing world. Many indie gurus who are making money (or who claim to be) do so by creating quickly or by teaching others how to do so.

Success for the rest of us is right around the corner, the story goes. We just have to speed things up to get there.

I bought into this for a while . . . until life got in the way. Obstacles like unemployment, empty-nest syndrome, a new and stressful job, financial issues, and personal issues completely derailed my planned sequel to my last published book, Portals and Poison.

As I was battling through my drama, I realized much of my writer’s block was caused by my listening to everyone else’s voice except my own. 

That’s when I took action. I . . .
  1. unsubscribed to 95% of the email lists, podcasts, and programs I had signed up for.
  2. took a break from a number of outside obligations.
  3. stopped writing.
  4. stopped watching the news in favor of scanning news apps occasionally.
  5. stopped blogging (although I’d never been that faithful to begin with).
  6. slept a lot.
  7. gave myself permission to stop reading, watching, or listening to anything I wasn’t enjoying.

Eventually, I could hear my own voice again. I accepted the fact that life circumstances would not allow me to do anything creative quickly. I embraced my “tortoise” life, including the reality that I probably won’t produce as much or make as much money as the “hares.” I stopped thinking of life as a race (although I'll admit, I'm still working on that last one).

My writer’s block eventually lifted. My slow, steady, and quiet pace (outside of my job, anyway) eventually allowed me to finish another book, Inkwells and Jail Cells. I had to slow down to write to write this book. Storylines and characters that are now central to the plot developed only when I devoted time to their development. I had to embrace who I was--in this case, a tortoise--in order to realize my creative vision.

If you’re a hare, good for you! I’m not going to bother racing you because I know you’ll win.

But if you’re a tortoise like me--or maybe a butterfly or a whale or a dragon--and you have a creative project in the works, I hope you’ll ignore whatever the hares in your life are saying and instead do the work your own way and in your own time.​]]><![CDATA[How the Internet helped me find truth]]>Thu, 04 May 2017 02:36:45 GMThttps://www.michellelashier.com/blog/how-the-internet-helped-me-find-truth​Last December, my sister and I were sitting in the movie theater as the credits for Star Wars: Rogue One rolled.

“Who was the guy who played Cassian?” I asked my sister. “He looked familiar.”

“The credits say Diego Luna,” my sister replied, pointing at the screen. “But that means nothing to me.”

Since the lights were up, we retrieved our smartphones, looked up Diego Luna, and scrolled through his movie credits. He had starred in Open Range, one of our favorite Westerns. Mystery solved, thanks to the Internet.

I’m old enough to remember life before the Internet. In those days, finding answers to trivial or even important questions took a lot longer and was occasionally impossible without the help of a skilled reference librarian.

But the world has changed. When used correctly, the Internet provides the average, economically-challenged writer access to information that previously would have required a trip to an out-of-town or even out-of-country library.

Case in point: I’m currently writing book 4 of my Time-Traveling Twins series. The book is set in Massachusetts in 1777 and involves a murder. While plotting the story, I recognized I knew nothing about colonial law, especially criminal law involving suspicious death. Tempted as I was to assume eighteenth-century-American legal proceedings would resemble an episode of Law and Order, I resisted. 

Time to research. I checked out several books from the library, asked a few lawyer friends for help, and looked for the perfect legal reference book to answer all my questions. None gave me the information I needed. Unfortunately, my schedule and finances do not allow me the time off to visit law libraries in Boston or the money to pay an expert for his or her time.

But then the Internet provided the answers I needed. I found a site with detailed information about eighteenth-century New England coroner’s inquests, suspicious death investigations, early American law enforcement, and murder trial legal proceedings.

In another plot point, I needed the sleuth of my series to write notes while sitting on the steps of a building. Since balancing an open bottle of ink, a quill, and paper in her lap seemed messy, I wondered if she could use a pencil. But did pencils exist in 1777?

A quick Internet search revealed that pencils were popular in Colonial America, but the war with England cut off pencil supplies from Europe, which meant my sleuth would have had trouble finding one. It was a good thing I looked pencils up, or I could have alienated many readers.

Part of my day job involves editing and fact-checking stories and articles written by others. What follows is a hypothetical example of what I encounter daily.

A writer sent me a story about a father and son discussing the meaning of life while they changed the oil of the family car. I have never changed a car’s oil, but something about the process seemed wrong.

In less than ten seconds, typing “how to change oil in a car” in my Internet browser yielded over 14 million results. I only needed to skim one article to know the writer knew less about oil changes than I did. Fact check fail.

Every day I encounter paid writers who brazenly claim “Spanish is the official language of Brazil” or “the Hawaiian Islands are in the Atlantic Ocean.” I’m not sure what hurts more: writers’ laziness, their arrogance in believing they don’t need to research facts, or their assumption that the reader will blindly accept any fallacy as truth.

Recently, I was watching a late-night talk show when one of the guests commented flippantly, “What would Jesus do?” He and the audience laughed at this joke. After all, there was no way to answer this question. 

Or was there? 

The show’s host, a professed Christian, blinked and after a brief pause replied, “I don’t know, but I’ll ask Him.”

We don’t have to be ignorant about who Jesus is or what He would do. The Bible makes clear that we can ask Jesus for the information we need. “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him.” James 1:5 (NKJV) 

The Bible also makes clear that God intended the Bible to answer our questions and address our concerns. Paul, in 1 Timothy 3:16 and 17, says, “All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteous, that the man of God may be complete, thoroughly equipped for every good work.” (NKJV)

If I want to know what Jesus would do in any given situation, all I have to do is ask and read my Bible--either the app on my phone or the leather-bound Bible on my desk. I recognize this is a simplistic response because God’s answers to life’s hard questions aren’t always easy to find or understand. But too often, we don’t even bother to look for those answers. Like the writers at my day job, we get lazy, we become arrogant in our own wisdom, or we think the truth doesn’t really matter anyway.

There’s no excuse for writers who say Mars is the closest planet to the sun (it’s Mercury, in case you were wondering). There’s also no excuse for Christians who say God has NOT given us clear instructions or messages that apply to our daily lives. He has. He gave us an entire book of answers.

A search for “free Bible” in my Internet browser yielded over 18 million results. It makes me wonder if Jesus knew I might be searching for Him there.

“You will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart.” Jeremiah 29:13 (NKJV)
]]><![CDATA[What Lies Beneath the Snow]]>Thu, 16 Feb 2017 01:03:13 GMThttps://www.michellelashier.com/blog/what-lies-beneath-the-snowI enjoy winter, but not for the conventional reasons. I don’t ski, ice fish, snowshoe, or own a snowmobile. In fact, I don’t even like snow.

I enjoy winter because it’s when I get things done. With my favorite outdoor recreations curtailed, I focus on creative pursuits--usually, my next novel. This has become such a habit that every year I plan for winter’s flurry of creative activity as the boost I need to meet my yearly publishing goals. In the plant world, I’d be a fir tree, continually green in the depths of winter, a spot of color amid the monochromatic snow.

So it’s no surprise my expectations for winter 2017 were high, especially as I have two Works in Progress (WIP) that have been begging for attention since July. In early November I began fantasizing about everything I could accomplish on my WIPs, the daily word counts I would meet, the nights I would spend in frenzied inspiration, and the candlelit evenings I would enjoy while curled up on the couch with the laptop, a blanket, and the cat.

I even labeled a page in my journal, “Using Winter to Your Advantage,” planning to jot down my creative successes during the winter months so I could write one of those viral posts that camouflage bragging about success using the pretenses of giving advice about how to achieve the same. (Oh, the hubris!)

Yesterday, as I leafed through my journal, I discovered that very page--blank, except for the title. I hadn’t made any notes because there was nothing to brag about.

You see, this has not been a creatively productive winter. In the plant world, I’d be the shriveled pile of sticks that used to be shrub.
To be fair, there are good reasons. While I’m fine, my family is fine, and I’m more blessed than many, I’ve had a lot going on. As a result, my fantasies of creative escape have faded into the realities of falling asleep from exhaustion with the laptop (and cat) on my lap, crying over story lines that were supposed to be funny, and discovering my novel-writing self is in deep hibernation with no indications of waking soon.

But during this long and uncharacteristic winter nap, I’ve enjoyed other blessings:
  • Time for prayer and reflection.
  • Quality time with family and friends.
  • Re-evaluation of my goals and priorities.
  • The opportunity to organize and scrapbook twenty years’ worth of family memories. (Four down, sixteen to go…)
  • Sleep . . . because sometimes sleep really is better than writing.
This hasn’t been the winter I expected, but it hasn’t been awful or a waste. It’s just been . . . different.

Maybe that’s part of the plan. Solomon might have been feeling the same way when he penned these words: “The heart of a man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.” Proverbs 16:9, ESV

I wanted to be an evergreen, but I’m not. I'm a dried, brown bulb buried under a thick blanket of snow at the moment.
​
But hopefully come spring, the winter months of creative generation will help me become a field of colorful tulips.]]><![CDATA[By the Manger was a Donkey, a Lamb...and a Beaver]]>Sat, 24 Dec 2016 15:11:09 GMThttps://www.michellelashier.com/blog/by-the-manger-was-a-donkey-a-lamband-a-beaverA December tradition of mine is to read Willa Cather’s Shadows on the Rock. The novel, set in 1687 in the frontier town of Quebec, Canada, follows the life of an apothecary named Euclide Auclair and his twelve-year-old daughter Cecile.

In my favorite passage, Cecile and her father invite their neighbors the Pommiers and Pigeons over for Christmas Eve. Also invited is six-year-old Jacques Gaux, a poor, neglected boy the Auclairs look after as they can, who watched Cecile set up the family's new nativity set earlier that afternoon.

...Jacques Gaux came hurrying in through the shop, looking determined and excited. He forgot to speak to the visitors and went straight to Cecile, holding out something wrapped in a twist of paper, such as the merchants used for small purchases.

“I have a surprise for you,” he said. “It is for the creche, for the little Jesus.”

When she took off the paper, she held in her hand Jacques’s well-known beaver.

“Oh, Jacques, how nice of you! I don’t believe there was ever a beaver in a creche before.” She was a little perplexed; the animal was so untraditional—what was she to do with him?

“He isn’t new,” Jacques went on anxiously. “He’s just my little old beaver the sailor made me, but he could keep the baby warm. I take him to bed with me when I’m cold sometimes, and he keeps me warm.”

Madame Pommier’s sharp ears had overheard this conversation, and she touched Cecile with the end of her crutch. “Certainly, my dear, put it there with the lambs, before the manger. Our Lord died for Canada as well as for the world over there, and the beaver is our very special animal.”

Immediately Madame Pigeon and her six children arrived. Auclair brought out his best liqueurs, and the Pommiers and Pigions, being from the same parish in Rouen, began recalling old friends at home. Cecile was kept busy filling little glasses, but she noticed that Jacques was content, standing beside the creche like a sentinel, paying no heed to the Pigeon children or anyone else, quite lost in the satisfaction of seeing his beaver placed in a scene so radiant. Before the evening was half over, he started up suddenly and began looking for his coat and cap. Cecile followed him into the shop.

“Don’t you want your beaver, Jacques? Or will you leave him until Epiphany?”

He looked up at her, astonished, a little hurt, and quickly thrust his hands behind him. “Non, c’est pour toujours [No, it’s forever],” he said decisively, and went out of the door.

“See, madame,” Madame Pommier was whispering to Madame Pigeon, “we have a bad woman amongst us, and one of her clients makes a toy for her son, and he gives it to the Holy Child for a birthday present. That is very nice.”
​
--From Shadows on the Rock by Willa Cather, Book 2 Cecile and Jacques, chapter IX]]><![CDATA[Someone stole her chips, but I won't let it go...]]>Tue, 23 Aug 2016 13:25:44 GMThttps://www.michellelashier.com/blog/someone-stole-her-chips-but-i-wont-let-it-goLast week while eating lunch with a colleague, we discovered that a bag of potato chips had been stolen from her takeout bag stored in the lunchroom refrigerator. The theft caused understandable consternation that over the course of lunch cooled to irritation. We discussed putting a note on the refrigerator door to let the unknown thief know that although his or her identify was a mystery, the crime had not gone unnoticed. My colleague wrote a draft of the note but then asked me to rewrite it so it would be funny instead of angry. 

What follows is my rewrite (with the exception of the first line that was written by my colleague). Since a series of circumstances made it imprudent for my colleague to post the note for general office consumption, I share it here in the hopes it gives you a few laughs. (Princess Bride fans: Can you spot my shout-out to the film?)

To the sticky-fingered chip monger who dug into my Jimmy Johns’ bag and absconded with my unopened bag of potato chips:

How did they taste? I imagined their salty crispness all morning. I looked forward to crunching down the entire serving. I craved them. But imagine my intense disappointment when I opened my bag at lunch time and my chips were gone.

I’m curious…

Are you an equal-opportunity thief?

Do you steal food from all the lunch bags and boxes in the fridge, or do you limit yourself only to take-out bags from certain restaurants? If I had brought a bag of Panera food, for example, would I have been safe?

I notice you left my half-eaten sandwiched untouched. That’s probably because you’re worried about germs. Perhaps you only pilfer sealed food because it’s the more sanitary way to steal. I’m glad you’re concerned about your health because if you haven’t got your health, you haven’t got anything.

Maybe that’s why you stole the chips—you wanted to spare me the unhealthy calories and imbibe them yourself. Very selfless of you…

I’ve learned a valuable lesson in all this. Someone in this building—whoever you are--is too cheap to buy your own chips. Instead, you spend your days grazing on other people’s fare.

As a public service to us all, I’d love to know what your food-theft preferences are. That way the rest of us in the building can avoid stocking the fridge with your favorite goodies and you might be forced to steal from the vending machine or even (gasp!) pay for your own food.

Yours truly,
Disappointed Diner]]><![CDATA[Trust Your Process Part 5: Embrace Your Limitations]]>Thu, 18 Aug 2016 20:07:42 GMThttps://www.michellelashier.com/blog/trust-your-process-part-5-embrace-your-limitationsAs nice as it is to fantasize about having unlimited resources at our disposal, in real life most of us don’t. We all have constraints that could--if we allow them--prevent us from achieving our creative dreams.
 
I’ve met far too many people who say things like, “If only I had x, then I could do y.” The idea is that pursuing a creative dream is contingent on having exactly the right resources in place. But if that’s the case, then few of us would ever create.
 
In this series, I’ve focused on how to know your creative process, put it to work, understand your emotions while creating, and befriend your inner critic. In this final installment, I’ll address the some of the limitations or barriers we have to success. If we embrace our limitations, they can become an integral part of our creative process. We can even trust our limitations to help us achieve our goals.
 
Allow me to share a few limitations that I’ve faced over the years.
 
Finances
I’ve never had an incredible amount of money, but that has forced me to be creative with what I do have. One of the reasons I research any creative project before I begin is because I need to be fiscally responsible.
 
For one of my works in progress (WIP), I needed an illustrator to create an image for almost every page. However, I could not afford to pay for all those original illustrations. Instead, I found a fantastic and affordable cartoonist on Fiverr.com who created a series of individual figures according to my specifications. I learned Photoshop and figured out how to combine the figures into an infinite number of illustrations—all within my budget. This increased flexibility and allowed me to create additional characters and cartoons I hadn’t anticipated.
 
My budget for the cover of my novella The Carpenter & the Queen was $50. I found a less-expensive-but-still-good designer on Fiverr.com. To save money, I was forced to research covers and pictures I liked in order to achieve the desired result. That experience taught me a lot about how to communicate with cover designers in the future and still resulted in a cover I love.
 
My financial constraints have also taught me to take advantage of the free resources available to me. I’ve saved hundreds of dollars in research by borrowing books instead of buying them. I’ve also learned an incredible amount about writing and self-publishing on the Internet by researching the big names in the field and following their blogs and watching their free webinars. Remember, I love to research, so having an infinite number of free resources has provided me with hours of enjoyment.
 
If you have financial limitations, what can you do with the resources you have? What inexpensive resources are available to you? How can your lack of money combine with your creative process to make you even more creative?
 
Time
While I’m more likely to have an excess of time than I am of money, time is still precious. Since I work full time, I’m unable to spend more than one or two hours each day writing. Some days, ten to fifteen minutes of writing is as good as it gets. But I wrote the first draft of Quivers and Quills by working only fifteen minutes a day. Sure, it took a while, but it still got done.  Actually, working slowly enhanced my process because I need time to think and plan in between writing sessions.
 
On the opposite end of the spectrum, a person can have too much time on his or her hands to the point of depression. If this is an obstacle you’re facing, use it to your advantage. While out of work for six months, I needed a meaningful way to fill my days. I decided to use that time to my advantage by writing six to eight hours a day. That’s how Portals and Poison came to be. I met a lot of other unemployed people—several of whom expressed interest in more creative pursuits—who instead spent their time feeling down or giving in to their fears.
 
If you find yourself with an excessive amount of time because of another limitation in your life, is there a way you can embrace the time and put your creative process to work?
 
If you have time limitations, can you find at least ten minutes each day to do pursue your creative dream?
 
Children
Being the parent of small children is tough. I’ve heard stories of parents who wrote books while rocking babies, but I couldn’t do that. When my son was under the age of two, I was lucky to have time to go to the bathroom, and even then I couldn’t do that alone.
 
But a friend gave me a surprising gift that kept my creative process at work—magnetic poetry. I set up the word tiles on my refrigerator, well out of my son’s reach. I could find a few minutes throughout the day to play with the magnets, and some of what I created was good enough that I wrote it down.
 
I was a single mom for over 14 years. Even as my son got older, writing alone was impossible. So I included him. When he was younger, I wrote stories for him and about him. I also took advantage of every moment I had alone. I remember one instance when we were driving somewhere and he fell asleep in the car. I pulled into a parking lot and wrote in my notebook for twenty minutes before he woke up.
 
As he got older, I asked for his advice on stories I was working on. I even asked him to make me accountable to write every day. Since I nagged him about his homework, he delighted in nagging me about writing. One of the most powerful motivators I experienced was having my ten year old say, “Mom, why are you watching television when you should be writing your book?” I still keep my son in the loop of all my writing endeavors, and I value his advice. He has made a major plot contribution to all my novels so far.
 
If you have kids, are there ways you can incorporate them into your creative endeavors? Are there new creative projects you can take up that are easier to complete with little ones around? Can your children provide creative inspiration that you can use in your process?
 
Location
Virginia Woolf famously said, “A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.” I don’t disagree, but let’s be realistic: Many of us don’t have a room where we can enjoy any privacy to create. Because of the size of our homes, the amount of time we spend commuting, or the needs of our family, most of us aren’t lucky enough to close the door to a private room and say, “Don’t bother me for the next six hours.”
 
That’s why we have to embrace our locations. Countless stories have been told of people writing novels while on public transport. You don’t even need a laptop for this. If you do a web search for “How to write a book on your smartphone,” you’ll find pages of resources to help you do just that. Other creative people enjoy a little privacy at a coffee shop for the price of a beverage and a set of headphones.
 
For years I’ve carted spiral notebooks around with me so I can jot down ideas as they come. I love to write in cursive but I often don’t draft in cursive because it takes longer than typing. (I type fast.) When I don’t have access to a computer, I embrace my handwriting with an added benefit. My handwritten outlines are better thought out than my typed ones. Embracing my limitation actually benefits my creative work.
 
Up until a few months ago, I did not have a room in my home where I could close the door and write, so I wrote wherever I could—in bed, at the dining room table, on the couch, on the deck (in good weather), or in the car as I mentioned earlier.  The benefit of this is that I’ve trained myself to write under many conditions, which allows me to be productive in a wide range of environments.
 
You may not have the perfect craft room, writing office, art studio, or music conservatory. But what do you have? How can you use your location limitations to help your creative process?
 
Life Cycles
I know popular advice says you should write (or draw, paint, sing, or practice) every day. I agree this is optimal, but for many of us, it’s not realistic. Embracing your limitations may mean recognizing that you engage in different creative behaviors at different times of the day, week, or even year.
 
When I taught high school, I enjoyed two months off work each summer. Although I had little time for crafts during the school year, I would scrapbook for hours at a time during June and July. When August rolled around, I put away the scrapbook supplies and didn’t bring them out again until the next summer. The benefit, though, was that my scarce ability to scrapbook increased my anticipation, enjoyment, and productivity when I was able to do it.
 
Even now when I work year round, I have found some creative activities work better for me at different times of the year. My most productive writing and craft time is winter. Summer is when I read the most fiction. I especially enjoy cooking in the fall and spring. The good news is that each season brings something I enjoy and can get excited about, which makes creating easier.
 
Working within the limitations of these seasonal cycles had the benefit of causing me to finish most projects. I’m more likely to finish a painting project when I know I’ll put the paints away for several months. I’m more likely to finish writing a rough draft when I know my summer schedule will keep me from the computer for weeks at a time. The limitations create deadlines that give my creative process a sense of urgency.
 
What creative activity would best match where you are right now? Are there projects you can work on that fit in with your lifestyle at this moment? Are there other projects you can let go of, knowing you’ll pick them up later? How can the season or life cycle you’re currently in benefit your creative process?
 
Physicality
 
We all have physical challenges that prevent us from creating. One of my physical limitations is lack of sleep. However, my fatigue can sometimes help me turn on my creative brain. When I take a short nap after I get home from work, my brain is better able to make the switch from spreadsheets to storytelling. I’ve also had quite a few nights when I had trouble sleeping. I’ve used those sleepless nights to write thousands of words over the years.  I’ll probably never get enough sleep, but I can use sleep or sleeplessness strategically to stimulate my creative process.
 
Some physical limitations are much more serious than a lack of sleep, but they don’t have to stifle creativity. I have taught many students who were unable to type for a variety of reasons. Thankfully, a wealth of dictation software exists. There’s even a movement among many authors who have no trouble typing to dictate their books using Dragon or similar programs.
 
Recently I watched the TED talk by artist Phil Hansen in which he discusses how he used a tremor in his hands to create amazing art. (You can listen to his TED talk here.)  A simple web search revealed many artists who paint with their mouths or feet because of physical challenges. (See an example here.)  A number of talented musicians have also overcome physical limitations to accomplish amazing creative feats (You can read about a few here.)
 
We don’t get to choose our physical limitations, but we can choose to be creative and look for ways to use our limitations to our advantage.
 
Your Limitations
I’ve only mentioned a few possible barriers to creative success. Take a moment to think about your own limitations:
  1. What limitations are keeping you from creating?
  2. What unique perspective can you gain from them?
  3. How do those limitations impact your creative process?
  4. How can you use your limitations to your creative advantage?
 
There are answers to these questions if you trust yourself enough to find them. But if you don’t trust yourself, trust the God who created you to show you the way. If you believe God parted the Red Sea, then believe He can help you through whatever limitations you’re facing right now.
 
“With men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible.” Matthew 19:26, KJV
 
There is no other human being on the planet like you. You were created to make a unique contribution to the world—a contribution no one else can make. Yes, the road to creation is hard. We doubt ourselves and our ability to create. We sometimes dislike the projects we must complete. We struggle to manage our emotions. We fight with our inner critic who tells us we’re not good enough. We focus on our limitations instead of using them to our advantage.
 
But life doesn’t have to be that way. Believe in yourself. Believe you have a process.
 
Trust the process and use it to your advantage.
 
When you do, nothing can stand in your way.]]><![CDATA[Trust Your Process part 4: Befriend Your Inner Critic]]>Wed, 17 Aug 2016 18:43:53 GMThttps://www.michellelashier.com/blog/trust-your-process-part-4-befriend-your-inner-criticNot long ago, I sat in a painting class with nine other women I knew fairly well. Each of these women is beautiful, talented, accomplished, and fun to be with. Each is creative and has a proven track record of producing beautiful things.

But you wouldn't know it to listen to them.

During most of the two-hour class, the conversation in the room revolved around how much every woman hated her painting and how her canvas wasn't as good as everyone else's. Complaints ranged from a perceived inability to hold the brush correctly to lines that weren't straight, leaves that weren't the right color green, or tree branches that didn't have enough twigs. 

I had a good time, but I was saddened by how critical the women were of their efforts, how difficult it was for them to have fun, and how little faith they had in their creative visions. Even though every single painting turned out beautifully, most of the women expressed this thought: "The rest of you did a good job, but I did not. I have no talent."

I suspect each woman was saying aloud what an insidious little voice whispered in her ear. I call that insidious voice the inner critic. If we let it, that voice can prevent us from starting--much less finishing--any creative dream.

In my previous posts in this series, I've talked about identifying your creative process, putting it to work, and dealing with the emotions that accompany creativity. But all that advice is worthless if we let our inner critics stop us from creating. That's why we need to befriend our inner critics and use them to our advantage. What follows are a few steps to help you do just that.

1) Acknowledge you have an inner critic. 

Many negative emotions or experiences only grow stronger when we ignore them; therefore, the first step to befriending your inner critic is to acknowledge that this voice inside your head affects your ability to create.

Now that I've published several books, I have many people tell me, "I'd like to write a book."

"You should!" I say. "You can do it!"

"No, I can't," is the common reply. "I'm no good at writing."

That's the inner critic talking, folks. If you've ever said you can't do something because of x  (x = ridiculous, invalid reason), you have an inner critic, and it's not going away. You might as well make friends with it and harness its power to your benefit.

2) Visualize what your inner critic looks like.

Silly as it may seem, befriending your inner critic is easier if you think of it as a person. For example, my inner critic looks and sounds like a male teacher I had who was consistently critical of me. When I'm dealing with the statements My Inner Critic makes, visualizing him helps me put the comments in perspective. Visualizing also helps me remember that my teacher didn't criticize me because he thought I was worthless. He saw my potential and wanted to help me improve--even if his comments weren't always helpful. He had my best interest at heart even if his execution was at times flawed.

Your inner critic may resemble anyone or anything you choose. There are no rules--even if your inner critic tells you there must be. But putting a human face on your inner critic can help you remember that the critic doesn't hate you--it just wants you to improve. That's power you can use to do just that.

3) Recognize your inner critic doesn't always tell the truth. 

When you create something, what does your inner critic say? Listen closely because not everything your inner critic says is true.

Sure, sometimes it's right. As I've been editing this blog series, My Inner Critic has said things like, "Can't you come up with a more specific word?" or "I don't think that sentence is communicating what you want it to." In those cases, he was correct. I did need a more specific word and the sentence did need to be reworked. 

However, after a conversation I had with a friend recently, My Inner Critic said, "That was a dumb thing to say, but it's typical for you since you're stupid." In this case, My Inner Critic was wrong and needed to be ignored. Sure, sometimes I feel stupid, but I'm not stupid. 

What about you? Are there statements your inner critic is making that are completely untrue? If so, what are they? What truth can you use to combat the lies your inner critic tells you?

4) Identify when your inner critic is helpful.

Any time your inner critic stops you from creating or makes you feel badly about yourself, it isn't being helpful. Your inner critic is often harder on you than any real person could ever be. What does that tell you?

But your inner critic doesn't want you to feel awful (regardless of what he or she may say), just as my teacher didn't want to completely destroy me every time he criticized my efforts. The purpose of the criticism is to improve. I absolutely did grow and improve as a result of my teacher's critiques. In the same way, I can grow and improve from My Inner Critic's remarks as well, as long as I only pay attention to the beneficial remarks.

Here's an example of how I allow My Inner Critic to be helpful. I've already confessed how difficult writing a first draft is for me. The last thing I need while slogging through that awful process is My Inner Critic saying, "This is terrible. To think you call yourself a writer!"  When I listen to those statements, I can't write a single word. What My Inner Critic says at this stage of my creative process is not helpful at all.

However, My Inner Critic is very helpful when I'm revising my writing. He's also good at reminding me to proofread carefully (sadly, I don't always listen) or to rewrite an email so my message comes across in a kinder way. I credit My Inner Critic for helping me turn poorly written rough drafts into a final pieces I'm proud of. 

As you consider your creative process, when would it would be helpful to have your inner critic around? What types of advice does it give that help you improve?

5) Control when your inner critic can speak.

Just because your inner critic makes a statement doesn't mean you have to listen to it. Most of us are pretty good at ignoring other people occasionally--even people we care about. Why not add your inner critic to the list of voices you ignore on occasion?

I have a friend who has an action figure that represents her inner critic. When she doesn't want him to speak, she moves the action figure to another room. My approach is a little different. I keep a sticky note near my computer which reads, "Michelle, you have my permission to write an awful book that everyone will hate." When My Inner Critic leans over my shoulder and says, "This rough draft is terrible," I read that note aloud and ignore him. (Some days this is easier than others.)

What actions can you take to ignore your inner critic so you can create in peace?

6) Invite your inner critic to be part of your creative process.

You can't keep your inner critic silent forever, nor should you. Under the right circumstances, it can prevent you from showing your slip to the world, so to speak. 

I can't tell you how many times My Inner Critic has saved me from sending an embarrassing text message or career-or-relationship-endangering email. He's also pointed out some problems with my creative work that, when addressed, proved crucial to the work's later success. Some of my favorite characters and plot points were born when My Inner Critic pointed to a place in my draft and said, "Michelle, you've got to improve this section somehow. It's not working."

I find it easier to ignore my inner critic during first drafts because I know he'll have a chance to say everything he needs say when I'm revising. Because I've planned to work with him during revision, I can keep him away from drafting--guilt-free. 

Remember, you're the boss. You have the ability to tell your inner critic when to "show up to work" and when to "stay home" and away from you. Consider how you can incorporate your inner critic into your creative process in a way that is helpful and results in a product you're proud of.

7) Permanently banish perfectionism.

Healthy critique in the interest of improvement is a good thing. Unending criticism that you'll never achieve an impossible standard is not. In a previous blog, I discussed perfectionism as a particular enemy of Christian creatives.

Remember the ladies in my painting class? Many of them would have had a lot more fun if they had accepted that nothing they do will ever be perfect. Instead, we must embrace our imperfections and learn from them. Perfectionism is an unreasonable standard that cannot be reached.

Remember, your inner critic has the ability to help you create beautiful things, but only if you are able to make it a friend who works for you, not against you.

Click here to read the final installment on how to embrace your limitations.
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