Tag Archives: life of an author

Writing is just another creative outlet

I’m so excited to be posting this blog!  For those of you who don’t know, Second Wind Authors are highly encouraged to post here.  Therefore, I’m one of them!

I’ve done lots of creative things in my life.  In high school I designed and sewed my own clothing.  (Not a “normal” thing for girls in the 1980s, but I never claimed to be normal!)  I’ve taken many different art classes in many different medias.  I draw, I knit, I sew, I paint, I write.

I’ve been writing, well, forever.  As a child, I dreamed of growing up to be a reporter.  My first “newspaper” was a one-page item that discussed the things going on in our family.  There was even a crayon-created “photo” above the fold.  It was only natural that I worked on my high school newspaper and yearbook.  I joined the US Air Force to be a reporter—well, that and to finish college.

So when I decided to try my hand at a novel, I had the creative process part down.  The disciple of putting pen to paper—or, rather, fingers to keyboard—was a little more difficult to cultivate.

Once the novel was finished, I sent it out and was delighted when I found out Second Wind wanted to publish it.

So now I’m an author, among all the other titles I bear.

I still find the act of putting fingers to keyboard to be the hardest.  I can think up a million ideas for novels.  Some of them I reject immediately because, frankly, I’m not the best one to write those stories.  I prefer to write (and read) mysteries, but especially ones with a paranormal twist.  I may come up with an idea for a Western love story, but I can’t write it!

And no matter what I’m working on, I still find time to pursue my hobbies.  All those creative things I do, help me to be a better writer.  I’ve worked out plot problems while turning the heel on a sock I was knitting.  While painting, I’ve thought of the perfect scenario to advance my current work.  While sewing, I’ve pictured the face of a minor character who needed to be introduced.

Am I unusual in this?  Maybe.  I don’t think so.  I believe creative people aren’t just creative in one area.  They have many interests and multiple talents.   Some authors are even creative enough to use their talents in their novels.  There are books on just about any creative hobby out there.

Hobbies are important to our mental health.  I truly believe this.  I also believe a person must try out many hobbies in order to find the ones that work for them.

Now you know what some of my hobbies are, I’d love to hear about yours.

Nichole

Nichole’s book, Ghost Mountain, is scheduled to be released soon.

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Snow Days and Writing

When I was a kid, snow days were the thing to look forward to. A time for laugher and fun. No school, snowball fights, snow forts, and using the shovels—after we had shoveled the driveway—and making snow paths in the yard. We used these as trenches in our warfare games. The not so fun part of snow days was my mom and her list of chores. I now know this was self-defense on her part. It was a way keep six rambunctious kids occupied. Needless to say, we didn’t often whine, “I’m bored and I’ve got nothing to do.” Lord, big mistake and The List came out.

Snow days at my house are a bit different. First, I don’t have six kids, thank God, to keep occupied. Back then we stayed outside or found adventures of “lets pretend that…” in our bedroom or the third story attic. I have one child. Uno only goes so far. Snowboarding outside takes up a few hours, if I’m lucky. Snowball fights still happen but it’s the kid and me. He has TV, movies, 360 Xbox, paper and art supplies, and shelf full of books. I have a computer and projects to get done. Articles to write, books to finish, books to edit. Did I mention editing?

This is a normal workweek for me. I’m trying to keep to my schedule. Four days of no school and a husband who can’t get to work either. It’s vacation time for them. I’m in a groove and I have not one but two housebound males wandering around bored. I am not bored. I have plenty to do. I get up from the computer for a short fifteen-minute break and stretch out my tight muscles, go to the bathroom and get a cup a coffee. My mind is on what I’m writing, working out the kinks mentally, and walk back into my office and there’s my husband checking out Fox Sports. We do have a working TV.

“Oh, I thought you were done?”

I’m dumbfounded. You can tell, dropped jaw, wide eyes, standing frozen in the doorway.

He can tell. “You’re not done?”

“Sweetheart, what part of five open tabs on the computer monitor makes you think I’m done?” I always try for the sweet, reasonable approach first.

So I decide to take out the dog, clear my head in the cold outside air and rid myself of frustration. It’s beautiful outside. The type of day that brings back echoes of laughing kids, snowball fights and snow forts. I feel a pull on the leash and bring my mind back to today just in time to see my poor Great Dane trying to do her business and ever so slowly slide down the incline. This is her first winter and she’s still learning her way on this white stuff. The look on her face is priceless and I can’t help but laugh. It feels good. I’m feeling better, which is a good thing.

I walk back into the house; breathe a sigh of relief when I see my husband watching TV. I walk into my office. And there is my fourteen-year-old son. At my computer.

“Oh, I thought you were done?”

Oh, yeah, it’s gonna be a long week.

Sigh…

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