Lawrence Block on Success

Posted on May 29, 2020 by J.M. Ney-Grimm

I’ve blogged about Lawrence Block and his book Write for Your Life before. I have immense respect for him, both as a person and as a writer, and I’ve continued to do the exercises he presents in Write for Your Life.

Most of the exercises are one-and-done. I’ve completed those and found them valuable. But I am still at work on a cycle of affirmations designed especially for writers.

As a writer himself, Block has been observing writers and the writing life for decades. He’s seen writers with only moderate talent build successful writing careers, while more brilliant writers fail to do so. And vice versa, of course. But talent does not seem to correlate with success.

He’s seen writers who work only moderately hard find success, while some writers who work ridiculously hard fail. And vice versa. But beyond a certain threshold, hard work doesn’t seem to correlate with success either.

What does correlate with success? Block says that what a writer believes in her heart of hearts about herself is the key. And one way to change that belief—if it is negative—is to work with affirmations.

Several of the exercises in Write for Your Life are designed to help you unearth the central negative belief you hold about yourself, so that you can challenge it and change it. But Block has observed that most writers also hold other beliefs in common.

So he created a constellation of 30 affirmations to challenge those beliefs. Try it for a month, he recommends, focusing on a different affirmation each day.

That’s what I’m in the middle of doing.

Block says that for writers, writing is particularly effective, so the exercise is to write each affirmation 20 times.

Here is today’s affirmation:

I CAN ALWAYS AFFORD TO TAKE CHANCES. It’s safe for you to risk rejection. Taking chances makes you certain of success. The more you take chances, the more you know you’re safe.

Now, I have not been using Block’s affirmations verbatim. I adjust them as needed to speak to my inmost heart. This one became:

I can always afford to take artistic chances.

And my thoughts about it are a little different as well.

It’s by taking artistic chances that I will be most authentic. And it is my authenticity that appeals to readers. By appealing to readers, my readership will grow.

I’ve made one other change. Block suggests that one simply write out the affirmation 20 times. I find it hard to keep my mind focused for that many identical repetitions, so I write the first 5 in first person, the second 5 in second person, the third 5 in third person, and the last 5 in first person again.

Block himself suggests this format for another exercise in Write for Your Life. I thought that was very clever, so I borrowed it for this exercise.

I can always afford to take artistic chances.
I can always afford to take artistic chances.
I can always afford to take artistic chances.
I can always afford to take artistic chances.
I can always afford to take artistic chances.

     Jessica, you can always afford to take artistic chances.
     Jessica, you can always afford to take artistic chances.
     Jessica, you can always afford to take artistic chances.
     Jessica, you can always afford to take artistic chances.
     Jessica, you can always afford to take artistic chances.

Jessica can always afford to take artistic chances.
Jessica can always afford to take artistic chances.
Jessica can always afford to take artistic chances.
Jessica can always afford to take artistic chances.
Jessica can always afford to take artistic chances.

     I can always afford to take artistic chances.
     I can always afford to take artistic chances.
     I can always afford to take artistic chances.
     I can always afford to take artistic chances.
     I can always afford to take artistic chances.

Care to join me? 😀 C’mon! Let’s try it together!

Fill in your name now!

     ____________, you can always afford to take artistic chances.
     ____________, you can always afford to take artistic chances.
     ____________, you can always afford to take artistic chances.
     ____________, you can always afford to take artistic chances.
     ____________, you can always afford to take artistic chances.

____________ can always afford to take artistic chances.
____________ can always afford to take artistic chances.
____________ can always afford to take artistic chances.
____________ can always afford to take artistic chances.
____________ can always afford to take artistic chances.

     I can always afford to take artistic chances.
     I can always afford to take artistic chances.
     I can always afford to take artistic chances.
     I can always afford to take artistic chances.
     I can always afford to take artistic chances.

How do you feel?

Lighter? More positive? With more energy? Stronger?

I do, but this is an affirmation that dovetails with my inner beliefs. I already believe that taking artistic chances is the best way to go. So repeating this affirmation brings my own optimism to the fore, and I feel good.

At least two of Block’s cycle of 30 affirmations drew up my pessimism instead. On them, I chose to use yet another tool that Block presented: writing out the inner protest called up by the affirmation.

The idea is that writing that protest gets it out of your subconscious and into the light of your conscious self, where you can challenge it. I think it works like the broken-record technique one sometimes uses when trying to sort out a conflict with a loved one.

Instead of escalating the conflict by making an extreme response to an extreme provocation, one simply repeats oneself.

Like this:

The more I’m seen and noticed, the more life nourishes me.
Not sure that’s right.

The more I’m seen and noticed, the more life nourishes me.
Is it safe?

The more I’m seen and noticed, the more life nourishes me.
Won’t someone hurt me?

The more I’m seen and noticed, the more life nourishes me.
I want to be nourished.

The more I’m seen and noticed, the more life nourishes me.
I wish.

Jessica, the more you’re seen and noticed, the more life nourishes you.
I doubt it.

Jessica, the more you’re seen and noticed, the more life nourishes you.
Why then have I been so impoverished?

     Jessica, the more you’re seen and noticed, the more life nourishes you.
          I’ve been nourished emotionally and spiritually,
          but I’d like to see some financial nourishment!

Jessica, the more you’re seen and noticed, the more life nourishes you.
B.S.

Jessica, the more you’re seen and noticed, the more life nourishes you.
Feh!

The more Jessica is seen and noticed, the more life nourishes her.
Yeah, well, she could use some nourishing now.

The more Jessica is seen and noticed, the more life nourishes her.
I was struck today by how God has cared for us over the last year.

The more Jessica is seen and noticed, the more life nourishes her.
I feel trust right this moment.

The more Jessica is seen and noticed, the more life nourishes her.
But I’m still scared of other people.

The more Jessica is seen and noticed, the more life nourishes her.
Yet people can be God’s hands in the world.

This affirmation-and-response pattern closes with just a repetition of the affirmation.

     The more I’m seen and noticed, the more life nourishes me.
     The more I’m seen and noticed, the more life nourishes me.
     The more I’m seen and noticed, the more life nourishes me.
     The more I’m seen and noticed, the more life nourishes me.
     The more I’m seen and noticed, the more life nourishes me.

If you found yourself fighting today’s affirmation—I can always afford to take artistic chances—try it again with a response. The response can be anything. Blurt out the first thing you think of, and carry on.

I can always afford to take artistic chances
__________________________________

____________, you can always afford to take artistic chances.
__________________________________________________

____________ can always afford to take artistic chances.
______________________________________________

     I can always afford to take artistic chances.
     I can always afford to take artistic chances.
     I can always afford to take artistic chances.
     I can always afford to take artistic chances.
     I can always afford to take artistic chances.

Better?

I hope so. But if not, maybe this affirmation challenges one of your core beliefs. In which case, you might try working with it for several days. You might be amazed at the freedom you gain.

May you be happy. May you be well. May you be peaceful. May you be free.

😀

For more about Lawrence Block and Write for Your Life, see:
Lawrence Block and Unforgettable Characters—Take 1
Lawrence Block and Unforgettable Characters—Take 2

Lawrence Block and Unforgettable Characters—Take 2

Posted on March 20, 2020 by J.M. Ney-Grimm

Whew! I seem to have created a really mean character. I didn’t realize just how mean she was until I typed the longhand draft into a computer file. When I finished, I wondered if I should maybe keep this lady under wraps!

I will tell you that I cheated while writing her scene.

Instead of putting myself in Zelle’s shoes, I put myself in the place of her victims and then had Zelle say things that would hurt me most.

Guess it worked! Because I cringed while typing.

So what have I been up to? Why the nasty character? What’s going on?

For those of you who missed last week’s post: I’ve been working my way through Lawrence Block’s awesome “seminar in a book,” Write for Your Life.

In the chapter “Your Most Unforgettable Characters,” Block assigns two writing exercises. The first, in which one creates a character, I shared last week. Check it out here, if you wish.

The second exercise goes as follows:

• Take a walk or do something similar that refreshes you and clears your mind.

• Then come home and sit as though you were going to meditate—comfortably. (I think comfortably is the key here.)

• For 10 or 15 minutes, envision your character going through an ordinary day. What do they eat, wear, do?

• Then grab pen and paper (or your computer keyboard) and write about the character for 15 minutes.

This writing can take any form that appeals to you. It might be a story, a letter from the character, a letter to the character, a poem, a scene fragment, whatever.

Don’t worry about style. Turn off the critical voice who likes to squelch you when you’re writing.

I felt drawn to writing a scene. I considered writing the arrival of the foreign caravan, but didn’t quite feel the pull.

I contemplated writing of an interaction between Zelle and the crone mage, in which Zelle was being her covertly annoying self and also struggling against her growing affection for the old woman.

That possibility did draw me. It still does, actually. But it felt more demanding than I was ready for. If I were to write the novel in which Zelle would appear, then I’d write this scene. For a writing exercise, I wanted something more straight forward.

I decided to write a scene in which Zelle ensures that someone is annoyed and discommoded.

To prepare, I made a list of things that I would find annoying. Here it is:

    item lost
    item misplaced
    item damaged
    reporting someone’s gossip to another
    food mis-flavored
    tripping hazard
    bed short sheeted
    locked out
    sent on false errand or to carry a false message
    instructions wrong
    supplies low or gone
    sink dirty
    dishes dirty
    picture crooked
    sandal strap broken
    talking behind someone’s back

The list inspired me, and I said to myself: “I think I will show her dirtying the washbasin of the crone mage, and then steering a novice to where she’ll overhear people discussing her unfavorably.”

Once I started writing, it got darker than that. Zelle is mean! Take a look at the scene as it evolved.

To Bruise the Soul

Zelle untwisted a kink in the topmost of the gold chains holding her vest closed and shook the cuffs of her bloused pants to a more graceful position on her ankles. She checked that her tail of red hair, falling from her crown to drift forward of her left shoulder, lay untangled.

Then, tray in hand, she breezed into the sleeping chamber allotted to the two junior-most of the crone mage’s handmaidens.

The youngest of the pair, Gasha, just fifteen, sprawled on the salt-silk banquette where she took her rest. Her vest and pants were rumpled. She lay scowling down at her toes.

“You’d think the crone mage might let me at least apply some healing salts to my own face. It’s not fair that any girl in the community, if her mother be provident, can have clear skin. While I go around with a face like a pox victim.”

Gasha was indeed much troubled with adolescent acne. Which would serve Zelle’s current purpose well. Adolescent vanity was exactly what she intended to trigger.

The dark-haired girl to whom Gasha spoke turned away from the chest into which she’d been stowing folded shifts of bright pattern. “You know you aren’t skilled enough yet to practice healing magery on anyone, let alone on yourself, which is far more demanding than casting on someone else.”

Miyla was two years older than Gasha and known for her serene demeanor. Zelle doubted the girl was so serene beneath that surface appearance however.

Gasha rolled onto her side to meet Miyla’s gaze, her jaw abruptly pugnacious. “Don’t you wish you could use magery on yourself?” Gasha demanded. “If your cheekbones were higher and your chin squarer, you could be the most beautiful girl in the domicile! In the community!”

This was true. Miyla’s eyes were an amazing ice-blue with a surprising intensity beneath dramatic brows like dashes of ink. Her nose was short and straight, her lips beautifully formed. But the excessive flatness of her cheeks and her receding chin removed all possibility of loveliness. Zelle suspected Miyla would have handled ordinary plainness much better than the potential for extraordinary beauty scuttled by a few problematic features.

Miyla’s mouth thinned. “Shut up!” she snapped.

Her lips parted to recriminate further, but then she noticed Zelle’s arrival, and her angry eyes went flat. She curtsied, murmuring, “Salt mother.”

Gasha’s sulks disappeared, too, and she lurched off the banquette to her feet to echo Miyla’s knee dip. “Salt mother!” she gasped.

Zelle ignored the girls’ discomfiture, handing a crystal vial from her tray to Gasha. “Here you go. The crone mage has approved your request.”

The vial contained the very mage-infused salts the girl had been complaining of. Her request had been approved with no resistance once Zelle conveyed it. But Zelle had delayed such conveyance for six moons. She’d needed Gasha feeling discontented and rebellious.

“Oh!” exclaimed Gasha. “Thank you! I thought—I thought—”

Zelle smiled. “You thought the crone mage desired your humiliation.”

“Oh, no!” protested Gasha. “I was humiliated. I am humiliated—”

“Don’t be,” said Zelle, and then added, her tone light, “Such a shame that your skin is not clear like Seliya’s. But no matter. These salts will take care of it, and when they are gone, you shall have more.”

Gasha’s delight fell from her expression. She looked confused, trying to reconcile her pleasure in receiving her desire with the pain of the gratuitous reminder that her acne was severe, while the newest of the crone mage’s handmaidens—Seliya—possessed naturally flawless skin.

Zelle concealed her inner amusement and turned away from Gasha, focusing instead on Miyla, who stood nervously twisting her fingers together.

“I accidentally overheard you talking with the herbalist yesterday, and I think the wish you expressed to her is reasonable.” It hadn’t been a wish. Zelle was well aware it had been an expression of frustration.

But hearing the girl’s frustration had inspired this entire scheme in Zelle’s imagination. Now that she was putting her plans in play, it was working beautifully, judging by the tension in the room.

She took up the stack of face veils from her tray, handing them to Miyla. “I think that you are quite right that if you assume the zavoj of an ascetic, you’ll gain a more favorable response from the people around you. If all they can see are your eyes . . .” Zelle trailed off, smiling kindly.

Miyla’s expression congealed. She looked a though she’d been punched in the stomach, but she accepted the face veils.

“I shouldn’t be surprised if strangers imagined you to be as beautiful as Seliya, and even your friends will forget in time that you aren’t.”

Miyla curtsied. “Salt mother,” she whispered, not meaning the respect the courtesy conveyed, but not withholding it either.

“Salt mother,” echoed Gasha.

Zelle breezed out as she had breezed in.

The next step was to fetch Seliya. She’d have the girl wait in the corridor outside Gasha’s and Miyla’s chamber, ready to accompany Zelle on an errand to a ague-stricken household on the edge of the community.

Seliya was wonderfully uncertain of herself, trying to fit in, trying to make friends. She should get an earful, listening to Gasha’s and Miyla’s verbal storms in the aftermath of Zelle’s provocation.

Zelle nodded.

While Seliya listened and grew even more lonely and unhappy, Zelle would have just enough time to weaken the buckle strap on the crone mother’s favorite sandals—it would break on her next sojourn outside the domicile. She could also pour dirtied water into the crone’s washbasin. The chamber maid should have just finished cleaning the crone’s water closet.

Zelle repressed a sigh of satisfaction. People were so simple-minded. They always assumed others meant well. Zelle never did. It was delicious.

* * *

For the first character assignment (that produced Zelle), see:
Lawrence Block and Unforgettable Characters—Take 1

For more flash fiction, see:
Ribbon of Earth’s Tears
Mother’s Gift

Lawrence Block and Unforgettable Characters

Posted on March 13, 2020 by J.M. Ney-Grimm

I’ve been working my way through Lawrence Block’s book Write for Your Life, doing the assignments contained therein.

Why?

Well, first of all, Block has written over 100 novels and over 100 short stories. His career started in the 1950s, and he was named a Grand Master by the Mystery Writers of America in 1994. His accomplishments in the writing life command my admiration and respect. He’s someone I’m honored to learn from.

Secondly, I’ve read each of the four writer’s guides penned by Block, and I like the man’s approach to living as it comes through in his writerly advice. He’s down-to-earth, he’s real, and he has a lot of insight into being human.

And, thirdly, when I first read Write for Your Life (without doing the assignments), there was one passage which really caught my attention and made me vow to return, pen in hand and paper before me. The gist of it:

Do the writers who work the hardest achieve greater success? Not from what Block has observed. A certain threshold of work is necessary, but beyond that he has not seen correlation between effort expended and success achieved.

The biggest factors in success are the beliefs you hold about yourself, your writing, and the world. What you think is what you get. “As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.”

Therefore, you must learn what beliefs hold you back and confront them, so as to change them.

I am very interested in removing any internal blocks that stand in the way of my success.

Most of the assignments detailed in Write for Your Life are too personal to share in a blog. But the chapter titled “Your Most Unforgettable Characters” includes two assignments that are not personal at all. In fact, they are rather fun, so I thought I’d share the first of them right here and right now.

These were Block’s instructions:

• Seek out a public space.

• Take note of a stranger there, someone of whom you know nothing beyond what you can observe.

• Spend some time unobtrusively observing that person. How do they move, how do they talk, what do they wear? Don’t take notes; just get a good sense of them.

• Then go home, thinking about the stranger as you go. How might they react to events? What might they feel? Think?

ª Once home, get out pen and paper, give the person a name, and make a list of the person’s characteristics. Some items will be things you observed, some inventions, some a mix.

* * *

Since it was 9 pm as I was reading these instructions, and as I was already in my pajamas, I decided to make an adjustment to the assignment. I neither wanted to get dressed again and go out somewhere nor to wait until the morrow to do so.

Instead, I meditated upon my memory of a photograph I clipped from a magazine 30 years ago (now lost), because I found the image so arresting that I imagined myself (even then) writing a story about the woman depicted.

Rather than describing the photograph for you, I’m going to transcribe what I wrote for the assignment.

Note: My adaptation is an excellent option as we all shelter in place during COVID-19. You wouldn’t want to be hanging out in a crowd right now!

Zelle

She has copper-red hair, long and very straight. She wears it in a horse-tail at the crown of her head. Her skin is very pale, but it neither burns nor tans, no matter how much sun she gets.

She wears tangerine-colored harem pants and sandals with many straps, like the footgear of the ancient Roman soldiers.

She wears a peach-colored vest secured in front by chains of gold. The vest is short, so her midriff is exposed, just a few inches. The front edges of the vest do not quite meet, so her cleavage is visible, also her navel.

She lives in a salt desert in a residence built of salt bricks.

Her people “mine” the salt and sell it afar via caravan.

They possess something called “salt magic” which involves colored salts and can be used to repair both inert things and living beings.

Zelle holds a position of authority, but not the ultimate authority. I think she is the assistant to one of the crone mages.

She feels a sense of personal power when she argues with people or causes them to feel annoyance.

Her magical abilities were discovered when she was 5 years old, and she was taken away from her family to learn control of her gift in the palace from which the crone queen rules. Zelle felt very small, lonely, vulnerable, and lost at first.

She proved very talented, so she leaned into her magic as a way to feel secure.

She didn’t boast to her peers, because she somehow felt it would be undignified. Instead she learned to find small and unobtrusive ways to cause trouble for her cohorts, which made her feel strong.

She never helped her classmates, because being better at classwork made her feel good. But not boasting meant they did not realize just how good she was and thus did not marshall their resources to catch up. She studied all the time, except when she worked to create subtle pain and annoyance for others. Her teachers did recognize her excellence.

What does Zelle want?

I think she wants exactly what she has: enough authority, but less visibility. Ah! But she is beginning to feel affection for the crone mage she serves. She is unhappy about this, because she feels more comfortable with aggression and hostility.

There could be a story here.

What if a caravan of foreigners entered the salt lands instead of waiting on the caravans the salt landers send out?

The salt landers hate this invasion, Zelle included. But the assistant to the caravan master attracts her. And he seems more conscious of her than he should be.

But what if there is another element to events than this? There is water en route. Not overland, but as a storm approaching. The salt landers can see clouds building and building. When the deluge arrives, the flood will inundate the salt plan and dissolve the salt.

How do the salt landers manage in their salt desert? They use their magic to make glass utensils, pipes, basins, and even furniture.

Why is someone aiming a rainstorm at them?

* * *

Block speaks of this exercise not as the route by which to create characters in one’s stories, but as a way to gain access to areas of one’s own personality that might otherwise remain buried.

The next exercise in the chapter builds on this one. I’ll tell you about it next week! 😀
Lawrence Block and Unforgettable Characters—Take 2