The Calf-Path of Writing

You’ve been enjoying my recent author interview posts, I know, but this week I’ll take a short break from them. I’ve got at least two more interviews planned, so stay tuned.

Credit to Pixabay.com and Pexels

Today I’ll discuss a poem and how it relates to writing. Sam Walter Foss wrote “The Calf-Path” in 1895. It’s a funny little poem bearing a significant message.

In the poem, a small calf wanders through the woods in a haphazard, zig-zag way, just ambling in an aimless manner. It tramples foliage as it goes. When a dog walks that way later, the hound finds it easier to follow the trampled path than to carve a new one. More animals follow, still weaving along the same sinuous, torturous path first made by the calf. In time, people choose that path and over the centuries it becomes a well-worn route, even a paved street, albeit a bent and crooked one.

Foss explains the metaphor toward the poem’s end. He’s speaking of “calf-paths of the mind,” how people find it easier to follow tradition and precedent than to break away from them.

How does this apply to writing? Perhaps:

  • you’re basing the plot of your current story on a prior work, or
  • you’re force-fitting the story into a particular genre thinking it would sell better, or
  • you’ve portrayed one or more stereotyped characters, or
  • as you crafted each paragraph and sentence, your inner critic silenced your muse whenever she urged you to experiment with something new.

True, sometimes paths get worn because they work well. The tried-and-true plot types have proven successful. Genres exists because readers (with their own mental calf-paths) prefer books like the ones they’ve already read. Certain character stereotypes can work because readers don’t require a full description—they can fill in the rest themselves. And sometimes your inner critic is correct to dissuade you from your muse’s most outlandish suggestions.

I’m not suggesting you avoid the calf-path. I just advise you to recognize when you’re on it and make a considered choice whether to stay or deviate. It’s akin to the thoughtful decision discussed in Robert Frost’s poem, “The Road Not Taken.” In that poem, the narrator states “long I stood/And looked…” implying some deliberation about the options.

I’ll conclude by paraphrasing Sam Foss:

Much with this blog post I could teach

But I am not ordained to preach

Nor in some wise didactic tribe

No, I am just—

Poseidon’s Scribe

The 4 Stages of Writing Productivity

If you write, you’d like to write faster. But how? On October 20, I attended a webinar by prolific author Vi Khi Nao, and she said some things that might interest and help you.

Vi Khi Nao

She titled her talk, ‘How to Write Effortlessly and Quickly,’ and I was struck by her four ‘productivity techniques,’ called Inflexible, Exact, Flexible, and Ideal Muse.

When she declared that last one, Ideal Muse, as her favorite, I figured I’d skip to it. Then she said you can’t skip. You must work through each technique in order.

Dang. That makes them more like steps or stages. You must go through them in order, she stated, because you will learn something at each stage that helps you in the next one.

I’ll outline each stage in my own words. What follows is my interpretation of what she said. If I got it wrong, it’s my fault, not hers.

Inflexible

Determined to write more, Vi Khi Nao put aside as much of her non-writing life as possible. She limited her interactions with others, devoting herself to writing. She filled her days with writing, and became ‘inflexibly disciplined’ about it.

Her output grew. She wrote a lot. However, she considered most of the resulting manuscripts bad. Her own prose bored her, and it required heavy editing. In the end, after many drafts, she ended up with a tiny amount of quality writing. Practicing this technique, many of us might find our health suffering, along with our relationships with friends and loved ones.

Still, she learned writing discipline, the value of daily ritual. She experienced writing in the flow, without self-editing.

Exact

She tried something else, setting a more modest goal of 10,000 words every two weeks. This time, she strove for quality as well as quantity. She decided any kind of writing counted as part of her 10,000 words—short stories, novellas, screenplays, and poems. She worked on bits of everything, alternating, much like a farmer rotates crops.

With a variety of projects going at once, she found her creativity stimulated. Although she didn’t mention it, I suspect her relationships with others improved after stopping the previous Inflexible technique. The new, modest, 10,000-word goal helped relieve some mental pressure, and her product required less editing. However, I suspect most of us would gravitate toward short and easy projects to meet the word count goal.

From this technique she learned a better balance between quality and quantity.

Flexible

Still seeking a way to produce high-quality writing faster, she set precise end goals (a novel by this date, a screenplay by that date, etc.) but allowed time for flexing. She wrote based on the momentum of the moment, when the mood struck. While maintaining the discipline of writing each day, if she entered the flow zone, she went with it.

The emphasis on quality helped her writing. Having established good writing habits in the earlier techniques, she got quantity along with it. However, I suspect she still felt guilty when not writing, and she still wasn’t in tune with her muse, her inner creativity.

The Flexible stage teaches the elasticity of time itself. All hours are not equal for a writer. All days are not equal. Quality writing requires time, but cannot be created in a linear way.

Ideal Muse

Knowing now that her muse didn’t clock in and clock out at specific times, she merged all previous techniques and allowed her muse to schedule her writing. When the muse struck, she dropped everything and wrote, no matter what. If shopping, she wrote in the store. If driving, she pulled over and wrote. She set product-driven goals, not date-specific ones. Sometimes she wrote for five minutes, other times for five hours. She monitored her health, knowing she couldn’t write in an unhealthy state.

At which stage are you right now? If increasing my productivity means I must start with the Inflexible stage, I’m not ready to sacrifice everything else in life for my writing. Still, I believe I’ve gone through a lesser version of the first two stages, and am in the Flexible stage now.

Whoops. Hang on. The muse is calling—

Poseidon’s Scribe

October 31, 2021Permalink

My Muse Walks into a Blog

I haven’t invited too many guest posts on my site, and today both you and I will discover why. I invited my muse to write a post. She accepted right away. That was three years ago.

I prodded her about it recently, during one of her rare visits, and she said she hadn’t forgotten. She’d just been busy. I think she was lying. In any case, below is what she gave me, and it sure doesn’t read like three years’ worth of work. More like a last-minute, slap-dash, hodgepodge mess.

______________________________________________________________________________

Hi! I’m Steve’s muse.

Never written before—more of an idea girl myself. Talker, whisperer.

(Have you ever thought about—) No, wait. Supposed to explain, not suggest.

Just, I’m full of ideas today. Suggesting’s what I do.

(How about a driverless, autonomous car story? That’d be timely.)

They fill me, ideas do. I whisper to Steve, then move on.

Don’t know what he does with ‘em, don’t care.

(What if someone learned to talk to a dolphin, and the dolphin was the only witness to a crime—would a dolphin’s testimony be accepted?)

This language Steve uses, these punctuation marks—too constraining.

ideas are where i live          in the mind    anything is possible

i hate constraints

(What if a spaceship used a ‘gravity sail’ instead of a light sail? So fragile it couldn’t enter a solar systems’ gravity well?)

Why    cant’    I           write    like      this?

Or

            like

                        this?

(Time for someone to write about a murder on a magnetic levitation train)

Sorry, gotta go.

.

.

.

.

Back now. Don’t ask.

What’s the topic? Oh, constraints and rules…hate ‘em.

(If there are cruise ships, why aren’t there cruise submarines?)

Stupid topic, rules are. Moving on…

About me: Idea Girl. Creativity Girl. Muse.

(What about a time-travelling fish?)

A thousand ideas a second. Flitting sparks, nebulous, ethereal.

Gotta tell Steve. He’s my guy.

(A setting. Planet covered with muddy swamps and permanent, pea-soup fog.)

Steve’s slow, though.

Always wants me to tell him more…to flesh out my ideas.

(What if a character couldn’t read minds, but her mind could be read by anyone within a few feet of her?)

I don’t flesh out ideas, Steve.

Your job.

(What about the first robotic NASCAR driver?)

I just whisper and leave, that’s my job.

Wow! Shiny object over there! See ya!

______________________________________________________________________________

That’s all I got from my muse. Now you know what I have to put up with. I doubt I’ll be inviting her to guest-post again, ever. In conclu—

Ooh, ooh. Steve. Can I do the signoff?

What? No.

Pleeeeese?

Well…if it’s that imp—

Squee! Here goes. That’s it for the best-ever post on Steve’s blog by his favorite—

Now, wait a minute—

—his favorite best friend ever—

Poseidon’s Scribe’s Muse!