Pseudonym! Gesundheit!

One Halloween when I was in grad school, I borrowed a suit and tie, glued on a mustache and went about disguised as a man. What fun that evening was! What power I felt! What confidence! So different to feel sure that the whole street was mine, instead of feeling that muggers and harassers owned it. The whole world was mine! (Because of the double takes I got, I know I looked at least somewhat like a man.) Told people I was George. (Who else remembers George, from the Nancy Drew books? I do! Who remembers that when George Orwell (pseudonym)'s school chums saw his obit, they said, "Eric Blair? He was George Orwell?") For one evening, parts of my psyche that are usually undercover got a chance to play the field.

I'm trying to rationalize my use of two pseudonyms. I research, revise, polish to a sheen the work that appears under these names -- but "what certain people will think" does matter should the work be linked to me. Others' power to judge, to grant and withhold, is a fact, and I would be stupid to flout it just to be reckless or "be myself." Yet I like writing and publishing these things and don't feel like stopping. It could be said that a pseudonym means I'm cowardly -- or that it cleverly gives my entire array of traits and impulses a chance to play the whole field.

Reaching a Balance

As writers, our work can go on all day, all night. Always something to revise, send out, work on, create, prepare, organize. Always the research, meetings, workshops, deadlines. I have a great work ethic. And this is work I like to do.

This summer my mind rebelled. It wanted to see friends, have a glass of wine, go fishing, cook an elaborate recipe, watch stupid TV, shop, go on a date.

I said to it, Oh, no -- YOU are supposed to be working! Every minute counts! No glass of wine for you! No time off for you!

That was a good way to get my whole being to go on strike and acquire a cough, an infection, an injury, hayfever, depression. No appetite, no energy. Too much trouble even to read a novel. (I felt obliged to read this novel.) Energy only to play the video game "Jewels" on my droid.

Last week I was out doing errands and had no choice but to take myself to lunch; either that or I wouldn't get any food until after 10 p.m. Wow, I had a sandwich and coffee, wasting my time and money (I should have brought a bag lunch to eat in a park!!) -- and how great that felt! This week I took 24 hours to drive downstate seeking beauty (even though I actually brought work along!). Felt much better.

Degrade Yourself at Odesk.com

Speaking of mental health, did I ever go nuts when Odesk.com emailed to ask why I hadn't worked for them. Odesk.com features calls for articles and other material by freelance writers; you bid on the jobs. You get paid -- maybe -- and if so Odesk gets a 10 percent commission. Like everyone else I could use some more work, and registered. Lots of contract jobs were available: write someone's resume, write ad copy, ghost somebody's little handbook on vitamins, write series of 750-word articles on auto care, and so on.

What sent me reeling is the compensation offered -- and accepted. Check these out:

I need 50 articles to be rewritten on Halloween niche. Each article has be 450 words and at least 80% unique. I will pay $1 per rewritten article. Please bid with a sample. Thanks

High end copywriting requiring high quality work; Must be english BA or MA graduates; Must attach short word files of writing files or will be disqualified immediately; Individuals only, no company affiliation. If affiliated, will be disqualified immediately. -Candidates for this job so far have bid a titanic $3.34 an hour.

The series of articles on auto care had a total budget of $70.

Not all of the posts are quite this extreme, but a lot of them come pretty close.

So, why haven't I worked for Odesk? The "O" must be short for "online sweatshop" -- and it's not the only one. An underclass of writers. That's just what we need....

Give and Take with an Editor

Kansas City Voices, an annual, last week chose a poem of mine for its 2010 edition, but the judge (his assistant called him "the poetry editor of the Kansas City Star") had suggested some changes in it. Open to suggestions? I always am; that's the nature of our business; plus, I had submitted that work in March and have since revised it, so I knew it needed revision. The assistant e-mailed me the judge's version of the poem. Golly.

Knowing that editors are not writers' enemies but their best friends, I gave the suggestions their due. About half of them would not harm the poem; about a quarter of them would help.

I printed out "their" preferred version and came up with my "corrected corrected" version. Naturally they were on deadline, so the assistant and I then worked by phone to reach a meeting of minds. I had cut out an image she liked. I explained how it was "over the top," and she suddenly saw that and agreed. I had deleted another line she said she hated to lose, so I let it back in. This mutual tweaking took about twenty minutes.

The result: The poem is better than when I sent it, and we are now both satisfied. How did that happen? Respectful. Calm. Informed. Orderly.

Which is More Important: Action or Results?

A beautifully simple rearrangement of reality from a seminar on "making a living from your self-published books," a St. Louis Publishers Association event attended 28 December:

Speaker, asking the audience: "Which is more important? Taking action or getting results?"

Audience: "Hmm, well, sort of -- results?"

Speaker: "No. It's taking action! Imagine two authors who want to sell their books. One tells himself, 'I'm making 10 cold calls today.' The other vows, 'By the end of today I will find three hot leads.' Then it's 2 p.m. The first author has made his calls (he hates cold calling, but he did it). He's free now to go to work on his next book. The second guy is sweating and stressed -- calling and calling he hasn't gotten even one of the hot leads he wanted! And gosh, his day won't end until he has three!"

Remember, said the speakers, you can control your actions -- but you can't control results!

Done Today

I've very little time lately between clients, work, and class prep to get to my own poems. But today I did. Finally I put a satisfactory closing line on a poem I wrote in 2006 (!) that has sat rotting unpublished because I couldn't capture that last line. Then I knocked off some changes (judicious trims) in a newer poem I've been hammering at for about four months, and now I think it's finished.

This didn't take but 45 minutes; however, I was focused. I feel good. Proud of myself.

Paging through the completed poems I saw that the best one was sent through 14 drafts; that the second-best went through 11 drafts, including one severe cutting job at draft #9, plus an extensive detailed workshop critique at draft #5. Who said writing isn't work?

"Focus" on Productivity

Experimented this month with telling myself, when I'm drifting-- "Focus!" And then focusing on the task at hand. It helps. Drifting wasn't daydreaming exactly. It's numbness from overload [insert long backstory here] or it's odysseys through the Web and its news, like trying to find out what John Updike died of. My Updike story: Another writer and I, back in our 20s, strolling in our paradise of Harvard Square bookstores, spotted John Updike -- he'd just passed us on the sidewalk. "I hate his books," said my friend. "I hate his books too," I replied. We turned around and yelled after him, "We hate your books!"

But I was talking about focus. It helps to say it aloud or have it on a Post-It. With this discipline, production and revision improved vastly. Now and then one must relax, but I do that 75 percent less than formerly, and do it consciously. Life is short and art is long. It seems that focus fits them together.

Do Real Writers Write Every Day?

It is said that "real writers write every day," but of course that is a myth.

I once was in conference with a famous writer. (It was E. L. Doctorow.) The first thing he asked me was, "Do you write every day?"

I said, "No. I have to work."

His manner changed. I understood that my answer had disqualified me in some fashion; that it proved I was not truly committed, and had no future in the big leagues. The rest of the conference was perfunctory.

I didn't think it was a rude question at the time. I had read, over and over, that some writers were "too lazy" or "not disciplined" if they did not get up two hours earlier in the morning or use their after-work time to write. I tried those things, for about three days each, and couldn't see straight, much less think straight.

"Do you write every day?" E. L. Doctorow is a fine writer. But that question proved he was not a teacher.

Maybe writers who do nothing else can and should write every day, but writers with responsibilities other than writing can get too burnt-out. Tired. Depleted. And if you feel that way -- you are exactly what you feel like!

The following coping idea came from a writer with a full-time job. She tried writing in the evenings, but at best put in a spotty half-hour. The results were not worth her efforts. Weekends had to be spent on housework and errands. So she told herself:

Okay, no writing Monday through Friday. Period. You are not to go near pen and paper on those days. Writing is permitted on the weekends only -- and then only if you feel like it.

The first week she rejoiced in her freedom from the mental burden of "writing every day."

By Friday night of the second week she could hardly wait to get to her computer. She did her housework and schlepping on weeknights, didn't short herself on sleep, and on Saturday and Sunday, rested, she got good chunks of time to sit down and write. She's a real writer.