We want to believe in something that’s exciting, wondrous, and dumbfounding. It’s the nature of human expectation.
Our worldview has evolved so we expect to “attain” the unattainable “reach” the unreachable and “think” the unthinkable. This gives us the drive and determination to create and develop. So, of course, fantasy authors turn to sparkling promise and glistering dreamstuff when they write fantasy epics. They choose to rustle things from thin air, and they like to create characters that come super-equipped with extraordinary — perhaps even preposterous — potential.
And let’s be clear, science has taught us that nothing is truly impossible: “Any science or technology which is sufficiently advanced is indistinguishable from magic” said novelist Arthur C. Clarke. This means that if anyone ever reliably demonstrates magic, it’s not magic any longer… because it has become science!
But why do some readers hate magic so much? And what can we do, as fantasy authors, to offset or reduce these reader aversions?
Well, for a start, it might be because these folk think of themselves as rationalists so they don’t base their beliefs on emotional responses and untested knowledge. They almost certainly don’t base their understanding of this universe on tittle-tattle. Such level-headed individuals are quite certain that there’s little or no physical evidence to show the existence of what we like to think of as “magic.” Most accounts of magic are just urban myths, cautionary tales based on symbolism, superstitions based on quasi-religious beliefs, fantasy inspired hoaxes or enjoyable ‘campfire’ anecdotes.
Often we learn of magical happenings by re-quoting or hearing about the experiences of a friend of a friend. (This is what’s known in social science circles as: FOAF) When sharing knowledge of supernatural experiences, there is a tendency to offer no actual firsthand testimony of a magical event; neither will any witnesses be put forward to test the accuracy of the testimony — in fact, the identity of witnesses is never known to the narrator, because witnesses to supernatural events are generally FOAF; in other words, the narrative is little more than hearsay.
Second, there has never been a magic spell or an enchantment that has been subjected to peer review. So, without refereeing, how can we ever trust something that’s not been tested for quality standards or performance? How has its credibility been proved?
Next there’s the upsyturvy conundrum. How come, not once, has there ever been an empirical scientific discovery that has been deemed wrong, only to be replaced by a more convincing magical explanation? Yet, the upsyturvy upshot is very often the case —it happens the other way around, all the time. For example, here are some magical ideas that have scientific explanations:
stones that fall from space [physicist Ernst Chladni proved meteorites come from space, in 1794]
human-created force fields [these became a verifiable fact in 1995 with the invention of the “plasma window”]
invisibility [research into metamaterials to make objects disappear continue, breakthroughs were in 2006]
teleportation [entanglement of large molecules was proved possible in 2002]
And what about controlling gravity to move things around? Or manipulating cells so wounds fix faster? Research is being done into both those things right now, with marked success. So, how come we can’t “wish” a spacecraft into orbit or make a talisman that provides its wearer with immunization against all ills? How come angels don’t arrive to save people from disaster? How come voodoo doesn’t protect the rain-forests? And when (if) these things ever happen, won’t they be scientific break-throughs?
Lastly, there’s the immutable balance of universal forces to contend with. In the universe there’s an equilibrium that depends on fundamental forces such as: gravity, strong force, weak force, and electromagnetism. It’s possible that there are universal forces yet to be discovered, though there can’t be many and they must be rare. But we can safely assume that the balance of the universe can’t be shifted or confounded without Cartesian notions of causation.
So what can we do about these inconsistencies as fantasy authors? How will we make our magic more believable? How will we bridge the gaps and jump the obstacles?
As a fantasy author, you might one-day face a crisis… how do you include “acceptable” magic in your writings? Here are some tips:
Write about emotions. Emotions are magic. We cannot see them. They cannot be evaluated. And they manifest themselves in different ways and differently from person to person. However, they are part of our human experience and being emotional is a magic we all perform. Concentrate on emotions in your storytelling.
Write about storytelling. Words are magic. Think about it. As an author you pass a “thought” from one person to another using telepathy and a scatter of runes (runes are just the ink spots on paper or dots on the screen). How does this magic happen? How does a story materialize into the mind of the recipient?
Write about maths. Numbers are magic. Numbers don’t really exist. They are simply convenient ideas that might be scratched onto paper or evaluated.
Write about money. Money is magic because numerals are magic. Money doesn’t exist. Money is just a convenient idea that can be easily assessed within a spreadsheet.
Write about humans. Humans are magical beings. You don’t need unicorns and werewolves to add magic to your story. We come “out of nowhere” and one day we will enter “into nothingness.” However, for a short time we are capable of singing, laughing, inventing, creating and loving. Isn’t that magical? We seem so ordinary, yet we encompass everything that is impossible. And that is true magic. Isn’t it?
A BBC sports commentator has been suspended because he used common phrases during a sports match that his bosses deemed were badly considered. This was not language that was discriminatory or hateful, or even loaded… it was just slack writing and lazy speaking.
The BBC (and most other stations and outlets) publish a list of phrases that their presenters, broadcasters & writers ought to avoid, for fear of being accused of offending or disrespecting part of the audience. I will not get into politics here, I just want to approach this touchy subject as a person who uses words professionally, speaking to another professional communicator (you) to ask how we might (jointly) tighten-up our writing so we restrict the use of shabby phraseology?
I once attended a high-level editorial meeting and a thoughtful member of staff (one of the brightest graduates that I knew at the time) used the phrase “nitty gritty” in his sentence, during a presentation. No one complained when he used the term (why would they?) But the chairperson upbraided the guy. Why?
Our boss explained, to all of us, that Nitty Gritty is believed to have originated as a term used by slave traders to refer to the most useless women and low value slaves left at the bottom of transport ships heading to the New World.
The lower decks contained those that were covered in lice and grit.
I recall that the guy in question was unnerved and unsettled by the swatting he received from the boss… he had never, for a moment, considered himself to be racially insensitive. And my colleagues and I sympathized with the guy because it could so easily have been any of us using the same term. So what had he done wrong?
This guy was no fool, he was what some might call “classically educated,” publicly schooled and an Oxbridge top honours student… yet he used ill-considered language. He spoke to me after the event, still embarrassed, and very contrite, he said: “I should have known better […] It will not happen again. I feel foolish and disappointed. Disappointed in myself.”
I imagine the BBC sports pundit — who has been suspended by the BBC — feels the same. Because he knows they employ him to use words properly. He is supposed to be a master of wordplay; yet he is guilty of poor wording.
Note: This is about getting to grips with shabby phraseology. It is not about liberal agendas or crazed political correctness — it’s about the skillful use of language. If you don’t want to be confident & proficient with your language, you won’t get much out of this presentation.
So here are six tips to help you stop making the same mistake as my friend:
* Be certain of origins
Don’t use informal nouns or phrases unless you are sure of their origin. A simple baseline for decision making should be, don’t know? Find out! Use: https://www.phrases.org.uk/
The payoff is that your language will become tighter as you discover alternate (and healthier) phrases that will add vitality to your communication.
* Eliminate idioms from your diet
Let’s be clear: idioms are formulaic, unremarkable, and sometimes hackneyed. Your language should be dynamic and inventive. I’ve heard people defend the BBC’s sports expert, saying he used “shortcuts everyone understands” and suggesting that he has to think “on his feet” (oops!) and speak quickly when describing a fast-moving game. This is all true (I wouldn’t like to do his job) but I think that using worn metaphors is not particularly ingenious. It is not expressive. I might even dare to suggest it’s lazy. I think it is better to eliminate “stock phrases” and idioms from your diet of words. I suggest you create some original terminology.
Yes, being articulate is an effort isn’t it? Maybe that’s why so many communicators (people who should know better) turn to overused old chestnuts (oops, there’s another one!)
* Alter your point of view
As you plan your words, imagine you are a member of your audience. It can be anyone you like (it doesn’t have to be a “fringe” member). What are their hobbies and pastimes? What’s their favourite tipple or meal? Where do they prefer to go on holiday? Are they animal lovers? What car do they drive?
I suppose you might be saying right now: “how can I know all these things?” But this is an exercise in “getting into another mindset” and I don’t don’t we do enough of it when we’re planning our communications. If we put ourselves “into the mind” of our audience we will begin to see how they view things and what makes them tick; we will start to use language that has more power & influence with them, because it relates to their values.
* Cut it out
Currently the most overused phrases are:
at the end of the day
hit the ground running
on the same page
get the ball rolling
If you have used any of the above, you are not in a state of disgrace (we have all used them, me included, from time-to-time) and they are just minor misdemeanors, i.e. trivial language offences — nevertheless, these overused phrases weaken our style and allow those mischievous and ill-considered little phrases to enter our lexicons.
* Edit for style
Needless to say, you must edit, edit, edit.
Edit for style, edit for cliche, and edit for stereotypes. If you use ProWriting Aid or Grammarly, you will see they include tools to help you find and replace tactless language, tedious metaphors, and unconscious bias. But do you use the tools? Do you edit, edit, edit?
* Alter your voice
Are you being too chummy with your audience? Yes, of course you want to be popular. You want to please everyone in the room. But there will always be some folks, perhaps hidden in the corners, who don’t appreciate your brand of jocular down-to-earth humor and might object to your cheekiness, flashiness or brashness. You might insist you are “just stating things the way they are.” But there’s no need to be flippant or ill-mannered just because you “want to please”, right?
If you find you are simplifying your language (and message) merely to please the most vulgar & surly people in society, then you’re not only disappointing & discouraging the wider audience, you’re also letting yourself down (this sounds like one of Mike Brady’s quotes doesn’t it, huh?)
Writing with pens seems so old-fashioned! Who does it? Who writes with a pen these days? Um? Nobody, that’s who! A pen is an anachronism, right?
Well, in a recent blog post titled: “How to write with passion” (https://neilmach.me/2020/10/21/how-to-write-with-passion/) I suggested several exercises that might help bring passion back into your creative writing. One of my suggestions was to use a “time machine” to return to a more virtuous and guileless time in your life (nothing expensive or technical, I emphasise, I just wanted you to get some modelling clay or a magic painting book and “play” with those creative elements to free your mind of 20/20 worries.)
So after blogging my post I speculated how I could take my own advice and I think I came up with the pretty cool idea. I decided to get myself a fountain pen. Yes, a fountain pen!
The last time I “bothered” to use an ink pen was in the mid-1980s, when I became half interested in calligraphy (I’ve always had horrible handwriting and I thought, maybe mistakenly, that calligraphy would help me… note: it didn’t). The reason my handwriting is atrocious is because my “hand can’t keep up with my mind.” For many years I have written in a kind of shorthand (part Pitman, part scrawl). This is very useful for taking notes (I am a journalist by semi-profession) but the output is hardly legible and very far from artistic!
When I first went to school (in the early sixties) we used “dip pens.” If you don’t know what they are, you are very lucky. They are like Beelzebub’s bloody bayonets, especially in the tiny hands of a five-year-old. About 6 inches long, and made of wood, with a replaceable nib (can I have a new nib, miss?) the instrument had no ink reservoir, so you had to continually “dip” the scratchy pointed end in the inkwell which was (a hole) on the edge of your desk.
One of the first things you did, as a school kid in those dark days, was to make yourself a blotter. Each of you were given a lovely slice of blotting paper and you had to stick a card on the back and draw a picture on the “un-used” side (mine was a picture of a ginger cat, I remember) and then put your name on it. Blotters were “precious,” so God help you if you misplaced yours. And, good grief, I had to use that darned thing all the time. Over and over. I’m sure I didn’t write a single word without making a mess. An ink stain would spread, like a splatter of blood, from the end of every painful word. Good grief! It was excruciating. It was unbearable. Perhaps more so for me because I longed to write — I hungered to write. I suppose the smartest kids in my class might have been able to write a few words, successfully, without setbacks and blotches, but I was never one of them.
My experience with dip pens was one of embarrassment, frustration, and sometimes tense despair as I tried to pen more than three words without having to stop, re-ink, re-blot, and then have myself a little sob. Imagine writing three words a minute. Then try to imagine writing an essay at that speed. And of course my little cold fingers, then my palms, and soon or later all my clothes would be stained blue with “school ink.” I often wonder how many aspiring authors of my generation were put off by those blasted dip-pens. Even now, I feel myself becoming maddened by the stupid things.
But, at the age of about eight, we were expected to graduate from dip pens to fountain pens. This was a rite of passage, and anyone my age (from Great Britain) will remember it. Usually the schoolkids got their first proper fountain pen on their eighth birthday (or the Christmas nearest that date) and it came nested in a plastic box. It was (purportedly) a thing of immense beauty… you could tell how amazing it was because all the adults in your life would look wide-eyed when you opened your box and they couldn’t hold-back their gasping oohs and aahs as you pulled the pen from its velveteen nest. The adults admired it as if it was a baby dragon.
In the U.K. we only had one brand: Parker. So it would have been a Parker that you lifted from the velveteen. Your first real pen. Actually, that last bit is not true. There were other fountain pens available (which were so out of our reach, for example those made by Montblanc, that they might as well have been available only on Mars, for all it mattered. ) And, conversely, the high street giants WH Smith (and Woolworths) sold their own pale imitations of Parker pens. And that’s what I got on my eighth birthday. I was gifted with a “Winfield Wonder”, also known as Woolie’s own brand.
But before you take your violin out of its case to play me a sad Adagio, let me tell you that my Winfield “Parker” was as good as the real thing. Better. It was stupendous. It was incomparable to the hideous dip pens. You had your own Quink pot (my Quink never ran out, though they could dry away if you left the lid off, it happened to my sister, never a good idea) and you filled the tank in the pen by squeezing some plastic bladdery thing at the end, using the tweezery thing that was a metal calliper thingy. This allowed the little bladder to suck up a quantity of Quink (that was the trade name for the ink they sold in the high street Woolworths, in case you’ve been wondering) and then you could write a page, maybe even a page and a half, without interruption. It was a blessing! Everyone loved their fountain pens. You would carry it in your blazer pocket, and if you were lucky enough to own a real Parker, the arrow on the pen clip (the brand’s emblem) was a badge of honour. The less wealthy kids in my school kept their pens in the inside pocket to hide away the sad Winfield logo.
There’s an insufferable advert on UK telly which is evidently aimed at people from my generation (because they’re selling funeral insurance, thank you) and their fantastic — almost unbelievable offer is that they’ll send you a real Parker Pen “just for applying...” Wow, you may own a great family home, you will have raised and financed two children and got them off your hands and into university, you will have bought yourself a quality car, you’d probably possess everything you ever dreamed of back in the Sixties except that one illusory thing… the most ultra-seductive and almost unattainable item in the world…what is it? A f*****g Parker pen! And this bunch of scammers and scuzzball con-artists will send you your heart’s greatest desire “just for applying.”
At about the age of fourteen, they invented cartridge pens with modern plastic ink cartridges. In reality, cartridge pens had existed for years before that, but their original cartridges were bulky and impossible to dispose of. A cartridge pen is basically a fountain pen, with the same tip and all that, but instead of the bladder and calliper setup I tried to describe earlier, with these pens you had a disposable ink tube that snapped into the end of the whole thing with a bite. You then screwed the pen up and it was ready to write. No more Quink bottles, no more smudges, no more finger spots. Well, that’s the theory, anyway. If I remember correctly, the cartridge had to make a gratifying click when the whole mechanism came together. If you didn’t do this … heaven help you! Because then the cap would secretly fill with ink and the next time you used the pen, bam! the thing became an ink bomb and when it exploded you’d be puddled and splotched. Of course, by then you wouldn’t have a homemade blotter any more (not required, said the adverts) so the ink would go everywhere. Most of my friends flannelled the ink up with the sleeves of their school blazers. That’s because your mother never saw the condition of your jacket sleeves, she only inspected your shirt, underwear, and trousers.
Ballpoint pens had been popular (overseas) since the 1950s, but they weren’t really seen in the UK until BICS and other pens were aggressively marketed in television commercials. Papermates! Click click! When you were around 14 years old, you would probably get what they called a “gift set” for Christmas. This would be (if your parents were rich) a set in a box that included a Parker Cartridge pen, a Parker ballpoint pen and a Parker propelling pencil. The propelling pencil rarely worked, the ballpoint pen only lasted half a school term, and all that was left was the Parker Pen and it wasn’t required because your old one still worked well. (Of course I was given the substandard Winfield version of this gift set, but don’t get me wrong, I was happy with it and very grateful.)
When I finally dropped out of school and started working in the City of London in the early 1970s, we were no longer using ink pens. From then on, everyone used ballpoint pens (fibre tips were popular too). And throughout my entire working life since then, I never touched an ink pen again.
Except. Except, now. Yes, I know that fountain pens no longer seem a very sensible writing tool. And I know they are useless for everyday use, but the humble ink pen has somehow been elevated to the status of “uplifting life accessory” in this very odd year. Yes, ink pens are seen in the same way that starched cotton or artisan bread is seen. They have somehow been transfigured in our collective imagination (from something horrid and unpleasant) to become something wonderfully healthy just because they come from a simplistic time, so they are comforting in a kitschy nostalgic way.
So I looked-up fountain pens on eBay (other multinational e-commerce corporations are available) and was surprised and delighted by what I found. Everyone else has apparently had the same thought as me (probably inspired by the free Parker pens offered by those lowlife scumbag funeral people, I expect) and so the market is full of magnificent & outstanding quality ink pens, impressive looking, too. In all shades and colours. And at incredible prices.
So, I bought myself a solid blue marble gold-tipped Jinhao fountain pen (Jinhao pens are made in China by Shanghai Qiangu Stationery Company) that has been built to look and feel like a classic Montblanc. (The Jinhao motto is something along the lines of: “this is not a fancy pen… it just looks and feels like one.”)
And, my word, when I unpacked it, I was blown away. It has the same balance, weight, radiance and irrefutable elegance of a classic Montblanc. (To be honest, not that I’d actually know, I have never handled a Montblanc pen, but this is from an entirely Parker driven perspective) — my gosh — this is a wonderful pen. It’s the best pen I’ve ever owned. Not strictly a fountain pen (it came with five cartridges), it penned (I hope that’s the verb) so flawlessly and effectively that I went and got myself a pad of writing paper just to write some rubbish. It’s so good, in fact, that I put another three Jinhao pens into my wish list… and here’s the most staggering thing of all: my new pen cost me £6.99 (postage included.) What? Yeah, you heard right, just seven bucks. The one I want next has the map of the universe on its side. It will cost a whopping eight bucks. And there’s one with a compass on the lid (five bucks) and one entirely made from rosewood ( this is really expensive, though, it will cost me a tenner if I put it in my basket.) You can even get a pure chrome one for sick squid and a clear blue transparent one for the price of a Starbuck’s Caramel Grande. What you waiting for?
Right, where is the blotter? Let’s get some more ink writing done…
The English novelist Neil Mach has gained widespread recognition for the creation of strong female characters and for compelling stories that often revolve around the themes of loyalty and duty.
His character MOONDOG is a Romani detective. He is called-in when other investigators hesitate. The detective inquires into things that lay “beyond normal human experience” where things hang in the balance between mundane and miraculous.
or: how to kill a character in a way that will break your reader’s heart
Sooner or later you will get to the point where you have to write a purpose-filled death for one of your main characters.
This will be a character that you and your readership will already have built a successful relationship with (so the death will come as a shock). You’ll want to make sure you pick the right time and place for such a momentous milestone.
But be aware that this death will not be over in a chapter. And will take a while to build. There will be consequences (the five stages of grief, for example) and there will be an accumulation of events. The story will build-up to the moment and rumble on afterwards.
Note, also, that the path to the death scene might not be a slow decline for your character, but rather an ascendant (perhaps transcendent) climb to what you might call the pyramid of martyrdom, where the sacrifice is the pinnacle of the character’s sum achievement and worth in your story.
Ask yourself these key questions. What does your character:
Also, think about this: how would your character want to be commemorated? Memorialised?
Now set your mind against all these possibilities and think of the worst possible outcomes for your hero by turning things completely around and switching things on their head (this will also help you to show-not-tell).
The hero fears spiders? Getting attacked by a multitude of giant spiders is too easy. What about this? The hero has to save a spider, but this triggers an early death (perhaps squished by a mutant fly)
The hero stands for honesty? The hero is tried and executed for telling lies is too easy. What about this? The character has to defend a known liar out of compassion / duty, but this causes a fall (the liar survives) and the hero suffers a wretched death
The hero opposes all forms of bullying? Attacked by a notorious bully and beaten to pulp is too easy. What about this? The hero has to form an alliance with a notorious thug to help humanity / others, but this causes a hero’s fall from grace and subsequent death in ignominy (everyone thinks the hero has been the bully all along)
The hero loves animals? Savaged by a much loved pet is too easy. What about this: the hero must destroy a large number of animals to save a family / loved one / the world. But this leads to the hero’s disgrace and gradual decline toward darkness & extinction. No one will ever know that the hero sacrificed his/her own values for the sake of those he/she loved
The hero excels at swordsmanship, but is brought down by a complete beginner is too easy. What about this? The hero’s excellence at the craft propels him/her to the top of all ranks and makes him/her dominant in the field, but this means the hero does not learn simple (new) lessons / tactics that everyone below his/her position will have discovered / performed / practiced. I mean, everyone uses a crossbow these days, don’t they? How did he/she not know?
The hero is famed for being insightful but is brought down by an unthinking idiot is too easy. What about this? The hero’s perceptual intellect enables him/her to identify dangers that lay way ahead, but the hero becomes so consumed by remote dangers that he/she does not see or recognize a greater and more deadly threat that sits right under their very nose.
So try these character turn-rounds / transformations / volte-faces / capitulations… and approach the death of your character while avoiding melodrama and stale tropes.
Neil mach is author of “So You Want to Write Fantasy?” and host of the Myth & Magic fantasy writer’s podcast.
If passion isn’t driving your creativity — your writing might be becoming lukewarm. How do you stop that from happening? And did you ever write with passion in the first place? Here are some helpful tips to help you keep your passion for writing. But, first, what is passion and how do we use this vital emotion when we write?
Passion is not a magical alchemy that only manifests itself in church or on a soccer field. It is there for us all, a free gift, to use as fuel. Passion is an unlimited and amazing fuel.
Passion inspires a person to live and to create. It’s about dreaming. It is about tangible creation. It goes beyond dreams though, to propel creative people towards excellence. If you don’t fight for anything, your life is empty. If you don’t allow your passion to develop, you will never become the entire self you want to be, you will never attain the complete youness of you.
Any creative individual is just the capacity and scope of their passions.
Passion comes from deep within the heart and, indeed, from the soul itself.
Passion is an emotion. And it is a wonderful emotion too. Emotions exist so we are neither hungry nor thirsty, nor eaten by a bear or trip headlong into a burning pit on our journey through life. Emotions keep us safe. Emotions help us make the right decisions. With emotions in control of our destiny, we will never be so shaken that we explode. The thrill of passion is that it focuses our efforts on the things that bring us the greatest rewards.
Passions rarely go beyond childhood. Why?
Successful people create their own passions — they don’t wait for them to come along
People don’t automatically excel at their chosen passion, it takes courage, practice & commitment to turn something into a passion
Creating and inventing are passions: shooting-down, sniping, demolishing or criticizing other people’s works are quite the opposite
So the best way to know if you (still) write with passion is to ask yourself these simple questions:
Is this the best way to be myself?
Who am I doing this writing for?
Does this writing represent who I think I am?
Does this work represent all the things I stand for?
Am I being honest with myself or am I doing this for someone else?
Do I love doing this? If not, why not? What stands in the way of my love?
Do I really enjoy this genre? Or am I kidding myself?
If I couldn’t do this type of writing, how would I feel?
If this were taken away from me, right now, would it weaken and diminish me or would it free me?
Does my creativity glow inside my core like a super-solar beacon?
If, after reading these points, you have doubts or hesitations, don’t worry just yet — it could be because you need re-calibration. This happens a lot to creative people. They lose their way in a maze of alternatives, fresh options, flip-flopping concepts, displaced loyalties, alternative goal setting, and general disconnect. In short, you might have lost sight of your dream.
So if you have reached a state of imbalance and perhaps stagnation too, do these exercises to get back on track:
read fifty pages every morning of a book you normally wouldn’t read anymore (because you’ve grown out of it.) I recommend Enid Blyton’s Famous Five’s or Roald Dahl’s The Witches or JM Barrie’s Peter Pan, but there are many more. Don’t care what people “think” about your reading choice, this isn’t about them, it’s about you
Use a time travel device. Tackle an activity you haven’t done in a long time or you’ve never done before. This will help your creative mind journey back to your childhood (get a pogo stick, hopper ball, skipping rope, skate board) Make sure the activity is physical and requires time and patience to get it right.
try your hand at a magic painting book (I recommend Federica Iossa and Sam Taplin, who do fantasy scenes that are quite magical.) Or play with vegetable modeling clay (Jovi do a pack of bright colors for about $9 or £8) Or try your hand at Pipe Cleaner Craft (a bumper pack of 200 stems is about $8) or get yourself a pom-pom maker, a kit without yarn is the same price as the above crafts. The idea here is to do something that requires attention (but not utter concentration) while you get better (and your creativity juices are re-focused) as you practice.
Listen to bubble-gum pop: (seek out “I Want Candy” and “Sugar, Sugar” [by The Archies] and “Yummy, Yummy, Yummy”). See if you can find your own set of sweet soda sounds and add them to your playlist
create new words or terms to replace stale old ones. For example: a politician is a = figmentaller, an epidemic is a = verbubonic tombola, an election is = pickalumny, winter is the = season of giftragical gloomagles (these are mine, create your own and the idea here is to focus on things that currently irritate or distress you)
Practice makes passion stronger; if you don’t practice, your passion will disappear
Don’t feed your brain with fear and disappointment, set goals that are rational and sensible. Be nice (to yourself)
A challenge is all very well, but it won’t help if your passion is injured by an unrealistic self-imposed limit or unfair wordcount target
Reward yourself when deadlines are met. Reaching goals is satisfying and it’s part of the passion process. So, to make sure you’re full to the brim with energy, and ready to face the impossible again soon, give yourself a brief rest and reward yourself
Don’t imagine your goals must always be towering or staggering. Sometimes nice little goals that can be accomplished in a day or even a few hours can make a much bigger difference to your health and well-being than a passion that will take a lifetime to complete. Do you think Edmund Hillary just climbed Everest? Of course not, he did a lot of small hills. Do you think Haile Gebrselassie (Olympic long-distance runner) runs a marathon every day? Of course not, he merely jogs around his neighborhood. So keep your goals reasonable. And keep them fun.