Skip to main content

The Process: Writing Process Blog Tour

I had never heard of the Writing Process Blog Tour until Lacy Mayberry, writer, friend, and fellow BorderSenses member tagged me in it. (She asked first.) I read the post on her blog (check it out here) The Hurl and Gliding about a week ago, because I wasn't certain what I was supposed to write. I read about her process and wondered, what the hell is my process? I've never put much thought into my process, so it took me a moment to consider what my habits and quirks were. So, here it goes.

What am I working on?
Nothing and everything. I'm trying to finish my memoir, Por Un Amor, which consists of several short stories, poems, and flash fiction about my grandmother. My goal it to finish soon. I keep putting off the finishing date, partly because life keeps getting in the way and partly because the book has become a part of me. I have two to three pieces I want to add then I'm done. Many of the pieces have been published recently, so I think it's time. I like to imagine it's my Ita giving me a kick in the butt.

How does my work differ from others in its genre?
Hmm.... How does it differ? I believe it differs in the stories. So far, each one is a story from my life, the stories that make up who I am. Everyone's different therefore mine are different because they're mine. Yeah, that's it. (Thank you, crazy family for giving me stories to write).

Why do I write what I do?
I first began writing fiction, which following this book I hope to continue with. I write nonfiction and fiction though, because I believe stories bubble up to the surface. Fictional ideas, real stories they bubble up and either they're the stories I repeat and tell or they keep floating up to the forefront of my mind. Lately, I've had an idea about a girl who rips pages out of books and keeps them. I still haven't figured out why or what she does with them, but she keeps appearing. I'm hoping she'll tell me soon.

How does your writing process work?
This is the part I had to put some thought into. I'm a binge writer. I know many people say the secret of good writing is doing it everyday, diligently, until the writing is sculpted into perfection. I write small bits at a time. I need to right setting though. I need the perfect balance of background noise. I need a comfortable seat. I prefer booths. I wish I had a booth at home. When I have these things I will write for hours, hitting backspace, typing, typing, hitting back space, until I think it is perfect. The waitstaff at several Village Inn know me from my long stays. I tip well and cash out if their shift is over though, so they don't mind. (At least I hope not!) I keep a journal I hand write snippets in. I have also began pasting in things I think are interesting like photos, scraps of paper, stickers. If I write nothing I try to be faithful to this blog and post at least once a week. Last, and how I began to write, is listening to people speaking. I like to write down their conversations and sometimes use tidbits of them later. People say the strangest things when they think no one is listening.


Up next on the tour:

The amazing fictionist Sylvia Aguilar Zeleny at Un Alma Cercana

The musically inclined poet Jennifer Falcon at Falcon's Desk

The beautiful multilingual poet Laura Cesarco Elgin

And the ever fashionable journalist Erin Leigh Coulehan at sinandloveandfear

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

¿Y la Prieta?

My grandma, Ita, called me Prieta. She called me this because my skin is toasted brown. When I was born my mom says I was light skinned, but she knew “que iba ser morena” because the inside of my little baby thighs were already darker than the rest of me. In the sun, I turn a darker brown. I get even more Prieta. It was a term of endearment. My sister, who has a light complexion, was called guera or guerinchi. When I tell people who don’t speak Spanish what Prieta means, dark or the dark one, their eyes open wide and a small gasp escapes. I see the offense they feel for me sprinkled on their faces like the freckles I will never have. When I try to explain, the offense still shadows their eyes. That is the problem with Spanish. Wait, maybe, that is their problem with Spanish. Even when I explain, they are suspicious. Their faces ask, “Is this true?” as if I am setting them up for a joke. But how can I explain the cultural and literal meaning of a word at the same time? ...

Para Las Nietas

Cuando se van las abuelitas, se va una parte fundamental. We are pulled from the brown soil. Roots exposed. We falter, droop. How can we continue without the cariño of their warm hands to support us? Nourish us con sus caricias. Cuando se van las abuelitas, se van los almuerzos y cenas que no más ellas hacían. Las comidas that tasted of their love can no longer exist. The tacos crispy and brown, won’t taste the same. The flavor, like a duende, can’t be caught no matter how hard we try to capture it in our own kitchens. Cuando se van las abuelitas, se nos va el lenguaje, porque ellas nos hablaban en español. Nuestros apodos como Güera, Prieta, Niña, Mima, y Mija se desaparecen. We ache to hear the sounds of our names from their lips and grasp for their words. The ones we didn’t know we would miss. Cuando se van las abuelitas se nos va el amor duro. We lose the sharp tongues quick with consejos we didn’t want to hear at the time. Se nos pierden los dichos and the wisdom we...

Thursday's with Carolyn & the Smokey Special

Dim lighting and a smokey feel without the smell. The voice of the singer, Carolyn, wraps around me as I stand in the doorway. " Give me one reason to stay here..."  Groups of friends crowded around tables filled with amber glasses and dancing ice. Laughter erupts, and smiles grace the faces of those around me. Chatter overlaps and wraps around and changes and morphs like small waves, moving, with the flow of our chorused voices. " Come together, right now, over me..." We talk, we sing, bursts of laughter at the crescendo of our conversation punctuate our sentences. Small talk, big talk, serious talk, all mingled at one table where new friends, old friends, and family sit together. " " You say one love, one life...."  " What did that mean ?"       " Another mojito ?"      " Pictures! "      "We had a presentation today, last minute."   "I do translations."             " T...