How to find time for writing

I haven’t done much writing lately, because of various events – two conferences, family health problems, house guests from overseas – all coming together in the same few weeks. Some of these happenings are predominantly pleasant, others more stressful, but all of them have altered the usual rhythm of domestic life and taken time and energy away from writing. This has prompted me to revisit some principles from my life coaching days – simple basic advice, but so easy to neglect.

Prioritise what is important: Besides writing, there are various activities – for example exercise, social contact, some form of relaxation – which it is good to carry out every day to promote health and well-being. In contrast, anything which is being done out of habit or a sense of duty but is not really pleasurable or worthwhile, could perhaps be set aside.

Set personal boundaries: being able to devote adequate time to the important things may require setting boundaries against those of lesser importance. This means learning to say ‘No’ to unwelcome requests from other people, as discussed in a previous post, and perhaps also being firmer with yourself if you are prone to be distracted by trivia like checking for emails too often or staying too long in coffee shops. Focusing on one activity at once is more efficient than multi-tasking.

Organise your schedule: although some people prefer to write only when they feel inspired, or when conditions happen to be right, many serious writers find it best to set aside a regular time and place for their daily work. If you are disciplined about keeping to this schedule, family and friends will usually respect your commitment and understand that you do not wish to be disturbed.

Accept what cannot be changed: some events, difficulties and distractions are beyond personal control. It is a waste of energy to get frustrated and complain about them, but better to be flexible and accept them with a good grace. In the words of the ‘Serenity prayer’:

Lord, grant me the strength to change the things I can, the serenity to deal with the things I cannot change, and the wisdom to know the difference.

After all, a temporary disruption to the writing schedule will probably not matter very much in the long term; and even unwanted experiences form part of ‘life’s rich tapestry’ and may provide material for a new piece of writing at some later date.

Incidentally – three of my ebooks are on a Smashwords promotion this week, 2-8 March, for just $1.50 USD each. Here’s the link.


Where do ideas come from?

All new projects – whether in the arts, the sciences, business, domestic or personal life – originate from ideas. Where do these come from?
Some just seem to arise out of the blue – transmitted, it is widely believed, through vibrations of energy from ‘the Universe’ or the collective unconscious. The observation that several people who are not in contact with one other can get the same idea at around the same time would be in keeping with this. This can also happen with animals, as with the ‘Hundredth Monkey’ effect in which several groups of monkeys living on different islands learned how to to wash potatoes. The biologist Rupert Sheldrake made extensive studies of such phenomena while researching the concept of morphic fields.
Fully-fledged ideas sometimes present themselves through dreams. Well-known people said to have found creative inspiration through this channel include Frederich Kekule (chemical structure of the carbon ring), Elias Howe (invention of the sewing machine), Robert Louis Stevenson (plot of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde) and Paul McCartney (composition of the song Yesterday).
Experiences during waking life – not just the major events, but everyday incidents such as a chance conversation with a stranger, a visit to a new place, seeing an unusual car numberplate – are a frequent source of ideas. I must have encountered many potential instances during my medical career, and though I never took most of them any further, it was the story of one particular patient which started me off on the research project about ‘Life events and breast cancer prognosis’ which was to occupy me for several years.
As another example, I once read a case report in the British Medical Journal which for some inexplicable reason stuck in my mind, providing the inspiration for the short novel Carmen’s Roses which I have finally published ten years later (I can’t say what the case report was about without giving away the plot). Many other writers of fiction have also found medical case histories to be a valuable source of material. The best-selling novel Everlasting Love was apparently based on a report in a psychiatric journal – though its author, Ian McEwen, later admitted that both the report and the journal were fictional too, which is perhaps just as well given the importance of respecting confidentiality where real patients are concerned.

Breaking the rules of creative writing

Regulations, bureaucracy and ‘guidelines’ pervade many aspects of modern life. This is especially true in public sector professions such as healthcare and teaching, but also affects workers in many other spheres including the self-employed. So I found it refreshing to hear from life coach Drew Rozell about a method of practice which he calls uncoaching. In summary, he suggests the best way is to ignore the rules – be yourself – and have fun!

Do these same principles apply for writers? I would say yes – to some extent. Like those in any other profession, writers do need to acquire relevant background knowledge and skills, respect certain ethical and legal standards, and devote sufficient time and effort to practising their craft. They can benefit greatly from attending courses, and seeking guidance and criticism from more experienced colleagues. This is all to the good if done in such a way as to help, and not hinder, development of each individual’s original ‘voice’.

Writers of fiction are often advised that a novel needs to fit a defined genre, conform to a standard structure, or be a certain length – see for example the detailed guidelines on the Mills & Boon websites. I realise there are sound commercial reasons for this, and that it is difficult for publishers to market books or for readers to find them unless they belong to a recognised category. But, if authors become too compliant with mainstream convention, the result may be an over-emphasis on form as opposed to content, and a stifling of creativity.

While writing these comments, I was reminded of the points for and against the ‘disease model’ used in orthodox medicine, which I discussed in my book Persons not Diseases. This model has enabled many advances in prevention and treatment, and it is obviously necessary to use some kind of classification in the healthcare setting. But if applied too rigidly or uncritically it can have drawbacks such as too much separation between medical specialties, unhelpful ‘labelling’ of patients, a poor deal for those whose symptoms do not fit with recognized patterns, and possibly discouraging new ideas and approaches. 

For writers, following a tried-and-tested recipe may well be the most reliable route to success. But, as a typical ‘Woman of Aquarius’ (see my other blog) I rate freedom as one of my top personal values and, for me, fulfilment through writing comes from original self-expression rather than the ability to follow a formula. This attitude has counted against me in the publication stakes and in younger days I wrote several novels which were given serious consideration by many publishers but always rejected in the end. The reason usually given was that they did not fit a recognised genre and were not good enough to flourish ‘outside the box’.  I don’t challenge that verdict, and if I ever look at those faded typescripts again I will probably be glad that they were not accepted.

But recently, after many years of non-fiction writing, I tried my hand at another novel and decided that in the modern era of independent publishing it is not so essential to conform to the guidelines. So I went straight for the indie option with Carmen’s Roses, now available on Amazon as both ebook and paperback. It breaks a number of the rules of creative writing. It is short, at 30,000 words. As ‘a story of mystery, romance and the paranormal’ it doesn’t fit any single category. It may not appeal to readers of my non-fiction books, with its different style and darker themes. But, if you’d like to take a look, here again is the link.

Bach flowers in fiction

In 1934 Edward Bach wrote a short piece called The Story of the Travellers about a group of sixteen people who have lost their way on a woodland walk. Each one of them responds differently to their predicament depending on their personality type, for example Oak is determined to struggle on to the end despite his exhaustion, Rock Rose gets into a panic, whereas Chicory is more concerned about the welfare of his companions than anything else.

Stories provide an excellent way of learning about the different flower remedies, and I remember that many of the exercises on my practitioner training course were based on characters from films and novels, or real-life personal accounts in magazines.

I have heard of three novels which feature the Bach flowers: The Pillow Boy of the Lady Onogoro by Alison Fell, Valis by Philip K Dick, and one by Mary Tabor which is currently out of print but may soon be posted on the Bach Centre website. And I’ve just published a novella in the ‘romantic suspense’ genre, Carmen’s Roses, in which the remedies play a minor role. If anyone knows of other relevant books I would be interested to hear about them.

Novels with a message

I’ve just seen the film The Railway Man, based on an autobiographical novel by former prisoner-of-war Eric Lomax, and described in reviews as an ‘intense emotional drama’. It explores themes of confronting past traumas, and moving from revenge to forgiveness, and appeared to engage the whole audience.

Do novels, films and plays always need to carry ‘messages’ designed to affect the outlook and emotions? Not according to the saying art for art’s sake which implies that creative works are worthwhile in themselves and do not have to be justified by any practical, educational or moral function.

For novels, according to this philosophy, providing pleasure and satisfaction for both writers and readers would be sufficient raison d’être. They need not aim to change people’s attitudes or improve their minds. All the same, messages of one kind or another are probably to be found within every piece of fiction, and can enhance its interest and value even when they are not consciously intended or recognised. 

Didactic novels, deliberately promoting certain ethical or political principles, can have the desired influence if they are well written and have a strong storyline. Otherwise they sometimes come across as patronising or contrived. Messages transmitted indirectly, as a subtext revealed through the speech or actions of the characters, can be more effective. They may prompt reflection on questions (is killing ever justified? do we reap what we sow in life?) on conflicts (good versus evil, pleasure versus duty, individual versus society), on the nature of human qualities such as courage or ambition, or virtually any other topic.

After years of writing non-fiction books, mainly medical ones, I recently published my first novel Carmen’s Roses. At surface level it is an easy-to-read (I hope) story of mystery and romance. Having taken shape gradually, inspired from various different sources, it was not meant to include any specific messages. But it has turned out to have several themes, including the contrast between orthodox and alternative models of sickness and healing, the darker side of human relationships and, again, the power of forgiveness.

 

 

Balance, Bach flowers, and holistic healing

Dictionaries define the word ‘balance’ in terms of equilibrium, calmness, and equal distribution – concepts which are key to happiness and healing.

It is often said that the Bach flower remedies work by restoring balance to the personality and emotions. In other words, they help to convert an unduly negative state of mind into its more positive counterpart. The first two remedies discovered by Dr Bach provide clear illustrations of this: Mimulus to promote courage instead of fear, and the aptly-named Impatiens to promote patience for those with an impatient nature. Some more detailed examples:

 Beech: people in the negative Beech state can be critical, intolerant, judgemental and arrogant. The remedy helps them to realise their positive potential of feeling a sense of compassion and unity with others.

Centaury: those in the negative Centaury state find it hard to say ‘no’, and are so anxious to please that they continually let themselves be imposed upon, to their own detriment. In the positive state, though still willing to be of service, they can also fulfil their own needs and follow their own path.

Gorse: the negative state is one of hopelessness and despair, such as is often felt by those who suffer from a chronic illness from which they see no prospect of recovery. The positive potential is a sense of faith and hope, the willingness to try new treatments and the ability to find some positive aspects in the experience of adversity.

Balance is a key concept in relation to holistic healing for medical conditions. Besides emotional balance, this includes balance with regard to lifestyle, and to decisions about the management of illness. However, some people approach it in a quite unbalanced way. For example they may refuse a highly effective orthodox treatment because of their idealogical commitment to ‘natural’ therapies. I gave a few other examples in my book Persons not Diseases. To quote:

‘Some enthusiasts lose their sense of balance by going to extremes which do more harm than good, for example following strict diets which lead to emaciation, nutritional deficiencies or eating disorders; taking excellent care of their physical bodies, but continuing to live with the stress caused by an unhappy marriage or work situation; meditating for many hours each day but not taking any exercise or brushing their teeth properly; spending their life savings on some new ‘miracle therapy’ which has not been properly tested; or becoming so obsessed with health-related issues that they neglect other domains of life relating to work and leisure, home and garden, finances, relationships with family and friends, and spirituality.’

The Bach remedy Vervain can be helpful in curbing the over-enthusiasm of people like this, who are often highly strung, fanatical over-achievers determined to convert others to their own fixed principles and ideas. In the positive Vervain state, while still idealistic and energetic, they are more flexible and relaxed, and can appreciate Dr Bach’s statement that ‘It is by being rather than doing that great things are accomplished’.  

Why write a bio?

Several people I know have recently written their life stories, and they all say it was a rewarding experience.

I would suggest that there are three main motives for writing an autobiography. First is to provide family and friends with a record of a life which, whether because of old age or serious illness, seems likely to be nearing its end. Some hospices offer programmes to help their patients with this, and there are commercial firms which provide a paid service. Such accounts may not be ‘well written’, or contain anything out of the ordinary, or hold much interest for anyone who did not know the writer. But they are usually much appreciated by the relatives for whom they are mainly intended – though some have the effect of reviving old conflicts, or exposing family secrets. These documents may also prove valuable to any social historians who happen to come across them in the future.

A second motive is to describe achievements or experiences of an unusual kind – surviving an ordeal such as abuse or serious illness, or becoming a celebrity in a certain field. Autobiographies of this type, some of which are ghostwritten, are more likely to be published and can sell very well. They often focus on just one period or aspect of the person’s life, rather than providing a complete chronological account. My late uncle’s book Geoffrey Guy’s War: Memoirs of a Spitfire Pilot 1941-46, which I had the privilege of editing after he died, comes into this category and I did eventually find a publisher for it. 

I don’t have any children myself, and have never done anything particularly remarkable, so none of the above would apply to me and if I ever did write my autobiography it would be from a third motive, which is to review my life in the hope of finding some meaning and purpose in it all. What have I learned from my experiences, including the mistakes I have made? What difference, for better or worse, have I made to the world? Are there any recurring patterns or themes weaving through the different threads?

At present I have no plans for such a book. I think it would be difficult to write, and the end result could seem embarrassing and pretentious. There would be some things – perhaps the most significant ones – which I would rather not put on record, whether for my own sake or that of other people. And, not having kept a regular diary all my life, there is a lot which I don’t remember – though friends tell me they were surprised to find how easily old memories did come back once they started to write.

Books in other genres, including fiction, are usually autobiographical to some extent whether their authors realise it or not. This is certainly true of my own forthcoming novel, in which the characters and events can fairly be called imaginary and yet were no doubt partly inspired by material from my own past.

Bach flowers for depression

The word ‘depression’ can refer to many different states of mind, ranging from understandable sadness to life-threatening mental illness. Sometimes depression arises in reaction to adverse life events, especially those which involve some kind of loss. Sometimes it is due to a physical disorder – for example underactive thyroid, Parkinson’s disease, the unwanted effects of prescribed medication – impacting on the function of the brain. Sometimes depression develops for no apparent reason, and this form often has some genetic basis.

For mild depressive states, Bach flower remedies can work well on their own. In more severe cases it is always advisable to seek professional diagnosis and care, but the remedies can still be helpful as an adjunct to other forms of treatment and support. There is no one single flower for depression, but several different ones which could help to relieve various forms of the condition, for example:

Gentian for those who feel disappointed or disheartened in response to a setback, or who tend to have a pessimistic outlook on life in general. This remedy helps to restore faith, hope and certainty.

Gorse for those who, perhaps after a prolonged experience of illness or difficult circumstances, have abandoned all hope of improvement.

Mustard for the type of depression which comes and goes for no apparent reason and is often described as like a ‘black cloud’.

Sweet chestnut is the remedy for heartache, anguish and despair.

Other remedies might also be helpful for associated problems, for example Elm if there is a sense of being overburdened with responsibilities, Pine if there are exaggerated feelings of guilt and self-blame, or Willow for those who cast themselves as victims and harbour resentment and self-pity.

Up to six remedies can be combined in the same course of treatment. Please visit the Bach Centre website for details of the system and how it is used.

The healing power of animals

It’s early summer here in New Zealand, and the kitten season is in full swing. The Auckland SPCA, where I work as a volunteer, is in dire need of both foster homes and ‘forever’ homes for the hundreds of beautiful cats and kittens recently brought into the Animal Village.

My own three cats, and the dog which I walk every week, were all ‘rescue’ cases of one kind or another who had a bad start in life but have flourished since receiving proper care. Like all the companion animals I have known over the years, each one has a uniquely loveable personality. 

This is the second of two posts which include short extracts from my book Persons not Diseases. The first one was called The healing power of music, in which I pointed out that not everyone likes, or can appreciate, music. I know that the same is true with regard to animals, and there can be a dark side to human-animal relationships which causes suffering on both sides. But I do believe that the positive qualities of animals far outweigh any negative ones and that, besides all the joy they can bring, they have remarkable healing powers. 

Here is the book extract:

“Many studies have confirmed the physical and mental health benefits of owning a pet, and the value of animal-assisted therapies such as riding for the disabled and having visiting dogs in hospices and care homes. Some of the benefits are mediated through increased exercise, but others are a direct result of the human-animal bond, which usually represents a form of pure unconditional love free from the complications which so often beset human relationships. Positive interaction with a dog, for example, leads to increased secretion of the ‘love hormone’ oxytocin, which has cardioprotective effects. Dog ownership is associated with a reduced risk of heart disease, and with a greatly improved prognosis for men who have had a heart attack already, although this may partly reflect the fact that men who choose to keep a dog are fitter to start off with.

“The other side to this is that the death of a pet can be followed by a grief reaction similar to that which follows human bereavement, and in a few cases this can be just as severe, with adverse consequences for mental and physical health.”

To end this post on a happier note: if you are interested in both music and animals you may enjoy the website of Nora the piano cat.

The healing power of music

Singing the beautiful Advent music with my choir this month reminds me of all the benefits to health and happiness which music can bring. As a child I disliked having to take music lessons, but when I took up choral singing and playing the piano in later life was pleased to find that I could still remember the basic knowledge unwillingly acquired so many years ago. Although my musical skills remain at a very amateur level I have gained great enjoyment and stimulation from practising them.

A few people, maybe 5% of the population, are unable to produce or respond to music (amusia) and may even hate the sound of it (melophobia); well-known historical figures in this category include Charles Darwin, Sigmund Freud and Theodore Roosevelt. But for most of us music is one of the pleasures of life, and it also has powerful healing properties.  The following is an extract from my latest book Persons not Diseases:

“Research studies have shown that simply listening to music has many positive effects on health – benefits include the relief of pain from many causes, improved sleep, reduced anxiety, enhanced mental development in children, and more rapid recovery of memory following a stroke. Actively singing or playing an instrument, as opposed to passive listening, brings in many other positive factors and professional music therapy, which involves sophisticated techniques adapted for each client, can have still more powerful effects.

“Music works to promote healing in many different ways. At the physical level, appropriately chosen music can help to regulate various aspects of physiology, and encourage formation of new neural connections in the brain. Different sound frequencies have specific effects. The vibration of a cat’s purr, for example, is conducive to bone and tissue repair. Some biofeedback devices work through sound frequencies individually selected to modify the client’s symptoms. The 528 Hz frequency, found in the 6-note Solfeggio scale, has been called the ‘frequency of love’ and some claim it has special healing power, enabling DNA to absorb ultraviolet light and attune the body’s rhythm to that of the cosmos. It is found in many of the old Gregorian chants, and is featured in various modern videos which can be found on YouTube.

“At the emotional level, music is a channel for the expression of feelings which are beyond words, and can enable deep sadness or anger to be released. Many of us have poignant memories associated with particular pieces and therefore the choice of music, and the meaning attached to it, is always specific to the individual concerned. Music has a spiritual element too, and plays an important part in the services and rituals of most religious traditions. Other benefits of music include the social aspects of singing or playing instruments in a group, and the mental exercise of studying music theory. Music, therefore, carries a wide range of potential rewards and must be rated as among the most valuable of all aids to the healthy integration of body, emotions, mind and spirit.”