Walking in the Rain…

June 12, 2021October 2, 2021 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

*Dirt road to Long Lake in misty rain, ON (photo and dry brush rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

A short time ago, I had a wonderful conversation with good friend Margaret about how walking in nature—along a river, in a forest, by a marsh or lake—centres us and feeds our soul. Margaret and I agreed that walking in nature fulfills the “explorer” in us, brings us out of ourselves in discovery and allows us to enter that wonderful blissful state of being “in wonder.” Margaret then shared how surly she got when it was a rainy day and she couldn’t go for her walk. I didn’t share that those are the very days I covet for my walks.

It got me thinking about why a walk in the rain is so special for me.

*Fence post in front of marsh by country road, ON in the rain (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

Why Rain Makes Us Feel Good

As a little girl, I used to get caught in the odd thunderstorm that swept through my small town on a sudden wind. I could taste the fresh air after the storm and felt exhilarated by it. What I didn’t know then was that the air was charged with negative ions from both the lightning and the rain—as water molecules crashed into one another.

We are all familiar with the feeling of well-being we get from moving water—rivers, waterfalls, crashing or surging waves, thunderstorms, fresh snow, transpiration by plants, even showers and fountains. Part of this feeling comes from negative ions in the air. Negative ions are basically oxygen ions with an extra electron attached, produced in water molecules.

*Devils club, moss and ground cover by a stream in rain, Robson National Park (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

As early as the 1700s, with the work of Swiss researcher Horace Bénédicte de Saussure, scientists have shown that negative ions are generated by moving water and by plants when exposed to intense light during photosynthesis. Negative ions clean the air. They do this by attaching to positively charged particles such as pollen, mold, bacteria and dust, which then become too heavy to stay airborne. A country meadow typically contains from 2,000 to 5,000 negative ions per cubic centimetre (cc); mountains, forests and seashores provide up to 50,000 negative ions/cc. Niagara Falls generates anywhere from 30,000 to 100,000 negative ions/cc in its air.

Rain on its own is incredibly therapeutic, not just in its ability to support life and to refresh, but in its nature to make us feel wonderful. The chaotic yet stable sound of rain is gently calming. Rain mutes and lacks the jolting sounds that activate our defence and vigilance system. It’s a non-threatening sound that blocks out sudden noises that otherwise alert us. The simple repetitive sound of water falling lets us rest our brains and induces a mild meditative state. Studies have shown that the sound of rain produces alpha waves in a human brain, which is close to the brain’s state when we are asleep. The sound of rain not only relaxes but brings out our creativity. Marine biologist Wallace J. Nichols (author of Blue Mind) argues that the sound of rain allows our brain to wander, eventually reaching a state known as the default mode network. In her book The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron mentions “s” activities, such as “shower” as creativity-inducing.

Walking in the rain can be pure joy.

*Pond lily just after a rain, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

Why Walking in the Forest in the Rain Is Even Better

These days, when I get up in the morning, if the day is foggy or a light rain is falling, I feel compelled to quickly down my breakfast, pack up my camera gear in a waterproof bag, shrug into my raincoat and boots and hightail it to the marsh or the forest, where I’m greeted with the fresh scent of petrichor—the pleasant smell that accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather. The rain helps release plant oils and chemicals produced by soil-dwelling bacteria called actinomycetes into the air. The term arose from the Greek petra (stone) and ichor (the fluid that flows in the veins of the gods). The earthy scent of rain on dry soil evokes wonderful memories of playful childhood, freedom and awestruck wonder. The complex loamy organic aroma of a forest during a rain easily ranks among my favourite smells. The link of a smell to strong memories is a scientific fact. In my writing class at George Brown College, I teach my students that the sense of smell is most associated with memory. This is because smell is first processed by the olfactory bulb and has direct connections to the two brain areas most strongly connected to emotion and memory formation—the amygdala and the hippocampus.

Rain intensifies a forest’s mosaic of unique scents from pungent, heavy and sharp to floral, fresh and sweet—based on the forest ecosystem’s qualities. A cedar-hemlock forest will give off different smells than a maple-beech woodland.

*Cedar root among ferns and moss during a misty wet morning, Trent Nature Sanctuary, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

The conditions are best in the morning.

The morning light favours photography with a gentleness that softens and deepens everything, and invites intimacy. This is particularly magical if a morning mist settles or rises like stream from the damp earth, slowing time. When it rains, moisture covers everything. It brings out vivid colours and textures.

Infinite shades of green, brown, grey and yellow create a fluid landscape that water paints into a vibrant watercolour scene. I move through it, boots crunching and squelching along the spongy loam path, as though wrapped in a moving artwork.

The moisture carries the warbles and fluting chirps of lively bird song amid the hush of raindrops on vegetation. Each surface has a unique voice. And each rainfall—from light drizzle to hard pour—carries its own tune, rhythm and percussion. It’s all a wonderful symphony of diverse frequency from rich infrasound to beyond.

*Root-strewn cedar-hemlock forest in morning mist, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

Perhaps the exhilaration I feel in the dripping forest is because this is when I can better hear Nature’s conversation with herself. When many of the human sounds grow muted in rainfall, Nature’s sounds fill in the gaps. The rain and the fog bring it all close, palpable, filtering. Like connective tissue, the rain unites me with my surroundings. I breathe in the subtle flavours, the whispers and perfumes, then breathe them out. I’m no longer separate. I am stone. Leaf. Tree.

Many of us feel a sense of peace in a forest. I have no doubt that this is the result of several factors including sounds and frequencies (e.g., infrasound), increased negative charge, scents, wood essential oils, genetic heritage and memory, and simple aesthetic appreciation and beauty. But it is so much more than this; water as rain or flowing stream or river plays a major role in this potential euphoric state.

*Dew on grass in the morning, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

Water doesn’t just help us live; “Water teaches us how to live,” says Japanese researcher Masaru Emoto. Water teaches us “how to forgive, how to believe. If you open your ears to the possibilities in life, you may just be able to hear the sound of the pure water that flows through your body even now. It is the sound of your life—a melody of healing.” Emoto adds that, “The human body is … a universe of its own. Our bodies consist of some 60 trillion cells, each carrying out its specialized responsibility while simultaneously harmonizing with other cells in a wonderful way to make us who we are. The organs, nerves, and cells of the body have their own unique frequency. The body is like a grand orchestra consisting of the harmonization of various sounds.”

Water is the great conductor. I love it when it plays me.

*Thompson Creek marsh in a spring rain, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

Tips For Enjoying Your Walk in the Rain

Equip yourself for the rain. Invest in good raingear: a rainproof slicker or jacket, sturdy boots (preferably waterproof), and warm clothes. I prefer to go bareheaded to get the most of my experience; but I don’t mind getting soaked. If you do mind, invest in a good rain hat. Avoid using a rain hood as it will mute too many sounds and sensations, negating the point of the experience.

Be prepared to get wet. That’s part of the experience: to feel, see, hear, smell and taste the rain and your environment.

Get into the mindset of an explorer. Focus outward with all your senses. Slow your mind and breathing and think with the heart of one in wonder. Think of your five senses and use them all in discovery.

Don’t overdo the experience. If you get cold or too wet, the positive aspects lose to the negative aspects of the experience. Pace yourself and be kind to yourself.

If you use a camera, like I do, keep it dry by using something waterproof to carry it in. When you use it, either protect it with something or have something to dry it immediately once you’ve used it in the rain. Photographing in the rain can be an incredibly rewarding experience and can produce breathtakingly wonderful images that can not be created in any other weather. But you have to look after your equipment too.

Have fun!

*Moss with spore capsules in the rain, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

*Swamp forest in the rain, off a country road, ON (photo and dry brush rendition by Nina Munteanu)*

*Geese at the mouth of tributary to the Otonabee River, ON during a spring shower (photo by Nina Munteanu)*

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press(Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

Walking Helps Me Think and Imagine

December 25, 2019June 12, 2020 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

Walking in The Beach (photo by Nina Munteanu)

I’ve written many articles and over a dozen books and readers often remark on my imagination with something akin to awe and incredulity. I often get asked where I get my ideas. Let me tell you a story first…

A Toronto friend—himself a prolific letter writer—shares that his ideas come to him during his daily walks (you’ll find his witty, humorous and somewhat pithy letters in the National Post, Globe and Mail or Toronto Star … almost weekly). David Honigsberg doesn’t use his car (that’s reserved for when his son is in town) and he walks every opportunity he gets, whether it’s a short jaunt to the coffee shop several blocks from his work place or a long trek to his home in Mount Pleasant after a lunch engagement near Bloor and Yonge. He tells me that he uses his phone to capture his “eureka” moments in what may now be considered unorthodox—he doesn’t make digital notes (it’s not that kind of phone!) but instead leaves a series of voice mails on his home phone. When he gets home, David replays his messages and writes out his letter to the editor.

What Dave does is not new to creative thinkers all over the world and throughout time. He shares great company with people who used walking as a venue toward creative thinking (and writing); people like Aristotle, Charles Darwin, Charles Dickens, Ludwig van Beethoven, Friedrich Nietzsche, William Wordsworth, Henry David Thoreau, Steve Jobs, and Soren Kierkegaard—just to name a few. All great walkers.

Snow day in Forest Hill, Ontario (photo by Nina Munteanu)

Aristotle conducted his lectures while walking the grounds of his school in Athens. His followers, who chased him as he walked, were known as the peripatelics (e.g., Greek for meandering). Darwin refined his ideas on natural selection and other topics during his frequent walks along his “thinking path”, a gravel road called Sandwalk Wood near his home in southeast England. Dickens walked for miles each day and once said, “If I could not walk far and fast, I think I should just explode and perish.” Beethoven often took solitary walks. He strolled the Viennese woods for hours, finding inspiration for his works and jotting them down on a notepad that he carried with him. Nietzsche loved his walks in the mountains. He wrote, “it is only ideas gained from walking that have any worth.” For Wordsworth, the act of walking was one in the same with the act of writing poetry.

Both involved rhythm and meter. Henry David Thoreau was known for his great walkabouts. Walking through nature for Thoreau was a pilgrimage without a destination—more discovery and rapture. “Taking a long walk was [Steve Job’s] preferred way to have a serious conversation,” wrote Job’s biographer Walter Isaacson. Writer and avid walker, Soren Kierkegaard writes:

“Above all, do not lose your desire to walk. Everyday, I walk myself into a state of well-being and walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it.”

In the April 2014 issue of the Journal of Experimental Pshychology: Learning, Memory and Cognition, Stanford researchers Marily Oppezzo and Daniel L. Schwartz demonstrated that walking boosts creative inspiration. Using the Guildford’s Alternative Uses Test they showed that the act of walking, whether inside or outside, significantly increased creativity for 81% of the participants. Oppezzo and Schwartz were able to demonstrate that the creative ideas generated while walking were not irrelevant or far-fetched, but innovative and practical.

Snow day walk in The Beach (photo by Nina Munteanu)

In the September 3 2014 issue of The New Yorker, journalist Ferris Jabr describes why this is the case:

“The answer begins with changes to our chemistry. When we go for a walk, the heart pumps faster, circulating more blood and oxygen not just to the muscles but to all the organs—including the brain. Many experiments have shown that after or during exercise, even very mild exertion, people perform better on tests of memory and attention. Walking on a regular basis also promotes new connections between brain cells, staves off the usual withering of brain tissue that comes with age, increases the volume of the hippocampus (a brain region crucial for memory), and elevates levels of molecules that both stimulate the growth of new neurons and transmit messages between them.”

It isn’t just strolling or sauntering that stimulates the creative mind to new heights.

Author hiking Highland River, Ontario (photo by Merridy Cox)

Stoking the creative artist inside you may be as simple as giving your mind the chance to wander—and taking the time to pay attention. In her book The Artist’s Way Julia Cameron talks about how “rhythm” and regular, repetitive actions play a role in priming the artistic well. She lightheartedly describes how the “s” activities work so well for this: showering, swimming, scrubbing, shaving, strolling, steering a car. I can testify to the latter—how many great plot ideas have I cooked up while driving to work! Filmmaker Steven Spielberg claimed that his best ideas came to him while he was driving the freeway. Negotiating through the flow of traffic triggered the artist-brain with images, translated into ideas. “Why do I get my best ideas in the shower?” Einstein was known to have remarked. Scientists tell us that this is because showering is an artist-brain activity.

The magic part in this is to pay attention. Pay attention to your life experiences; don’t ignore them. Sit up in the bus and watch people, play with the images, sounds and smells. Get sensual and let your eyes, ears, nose and limbs delight in the world. It’s amazing how interesting the world becomes once you start paying attention.

So, to answer the question above about where I get my ideas: in one word, everywhere.

Of course, I find those “s” activities mentioned above very helpful in quieting my mind to “listen” to my creative spirit and see; they calm and focus me. I would add another “s” word–scrawling–to the list. While Dave sends a voice message home on his phone when he gets an idea, I carry a notebook with me to jot down my eureka moments. I find writing by hand additionally helps in the creative process. What works best for me is a walk in Nature. Nothing beats that…having a dialogue with the wind, or the chiming birds and rustling trees, the gurgling brook or surging sea or tiny insect, the soothing sun…rough bark of a fir tree… The texture of the world…

Snowy path in Scarborough, Ontario (photo by Nina Munteanu)

“The texture of the world, its filigree and scrollwork, means that there is the possibility for beauty here, a beauty inexhaustible in its complexity, which opens to my knock, which answers in me a call I do not remember calling, and which trains me to the wild and extravagant nature of the spirit I seek.”—Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

References:

Cameron, Julia. 1992. “The Artist’s Way”. Penguin Putnam Inc., New York, NY. 222pp.

Dillard, Annie. 1974. Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. Harper Perennial. 304pp.

Downden, Craig. 2014. “Steve Jobs was Right About Walking” In: The National Post, December 23, 2014.

Munteanu, Nina. 2013. The Journal Writer: Finding Your Voice. Pixl Press, Vancouver, BC. 170pp.

Oppezzo, Marily and Daniel L. Schwartz. 2014. “Give Your Ideas Some Legs: The Positive Effect of Walking on Creative Thinking”, Journal of Experimental Psychology: Learning, Memory, and Cognition, Vol. 40, No. 4: 1142-1152.

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” will be released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in 2020.

Write and Publish, Part 4: Adopt a Winning Attitude

May 11, 2019April 5, 2020 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

Author and university writing instructor Nina Munteanu describes the attitude you need to successfully write, complete and market your works.

The Write and Publish Series

You want to write but don’t know how to get started? The Write and Publish Series focuses on:

How to find time to write around your busy schedule
How to make the most of your present resources
How to get inspired and motivate yourself to write
How to write, finish and submit your work

The 7-part series of lectures consists of: 1) Nina’s 5-Ps to Success; 2) Redefine Yourself as an Author; 3) Time and Space to Write; 4) Adopt a Winning Attitude; 5) Write What Excites You; 6) How to Beat Writer’s Block; and 7) How to Keep Motivated.

The Writer’s Toolkit

This series of lectures and workshops is part of Nina Munteanu’s “The Writer’s Toolkit”, available as three workshops and DVDs for writers wishing to get published. This 6-hour set of three discs contains lectures, examples and exercises on how to get started and finish, writing craft, marketing and promotion. Available through the author (nina.sfgirl@gmail.com).

“I was fascinated by Nina’s clear and extremely interesting lecture on the hero’s journey. Maybe all writer’s have a novel in their heads they want to write one day, and the techniques Nina shared with us will help me when I get to that point. In fact, because of her, I may get there a lot sooner than I had planned.”— Zoe M. Hicks, Saint Simon’s Island, GA

“Nina Munteanu’s command of the subject matter and her ability to explain in a way that the audience understood was excellent. As a hopeful author, I found her words inspiring.”—Amanda Lott, Scribblers Writers’ Retreat, GA

“Rarely have I encountered someone of Nina’s considerable talent and intellect tied to such an extraordinary work ethic…A gifted and inventive writer, Nina is also an excellent speaker who is able to communicate complicated ideas in simple terms and generate creative thought in others. Her accessible, positive approach and delightful sense of humor set people at ease almost immediately.”–Heather Dugan, Ohio writer and voice artist

“What you’ve done for me, Nina, is you’ve just opened up a whole new world. You’ve shown me how to put soul into my books.”–Hectorine Roy, Nova Scotia writer

The Writer’s Toolkit workshops were based on my award-nominated fiction writing guide: The Fiction Writer: Get Published, Write Now!

“…Like the good Doctor’s Tardis, The Fiction Writer is larger than it appears… Get Get Published, Write Now! right now.”—David Merchant, Creative Writing Instructor

The Fiction Writer: Get Published, Write Now! (Starfire World Syndicate) is a digest of how-to’s in writing fiction and creative non-fiction by masters of the craft from over the last century. Packaged into 26 chapters of well-researched and easy to read instruction, novelist and teacher Nina Munteanu brings in entertaining real-life examples and practical exercises. The Fiction Writer will help you learn the basic, tried and true lessons of a professional writer: 1) how to craft a compelling story; 2) how to give editors and agents what they want and 3) how to maintain a winning attitude.

“The Fiction Writer is at the top of the required reading list for my Writer’s Workshop students. With its engagingly direct, conversational style and easily accessible format, it is a veritable cornucopia of hands-on help for aspiring writers of any age…the quintessential guidebook for the soon-to-be-published.”—Susan McLemore, Writing Instructor

“As important a tool as your laptop or your pen.”—Cathi Urbonas, Halifax writer

“Has become my writing bible.”—Carina Burns, author of The Syrian Jewelry Box

“I highly recommend this book for any writer wishing to get published.”—Marie Bilodeau, acclaimed author of Destiny’s Blood

“I’m thoroughly enjoying the book and even learning a thing or two!”—Robert J. Sawyer, Hugo and Nebula Award-winning author of Wake

Nina Munteanu next to a metasequoia tree in The Beach, Ontario (photo by Richard Lautens)

The Fiction Writer is the first of a series of writing guides, which consist so far of: The Journal Writer: Finding Your Voice; and The Ecology of Story: World as Character.

Nina Munteanu is an ecologist and internationally published author of award-nominated speculative novels, short stories and non-fiction. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s recent book is the bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” (Mincione Edizioni, Rome). Her latest “Water Is…” is currently an Amazon Bestseller and NY Times ‘year in reading’ choice of Margaret Atwood.

How Walking in Nature Helps Me Write

April 12, 2019March 29, 2020 / thealiennextdoor / 3 Comments

Staircase to Rouge River (photo by Nina Munteanu)

I don’t often get writer’s block. I just walk out of it into Nature.

My favourite place to walk is the forest, along a river.

Walking in a forest unclutters my mind and soul. The forest is simple in its natural complexity. Its beauty combs out the tangles of human complexity like a dam dissolving and grounds me back to the simplicity of natural life.

The river trickles in the background as I step through dappled light and inhale the organic scents of the forest. The forest and the river help me re-align and focus—without trying. That’s the magic of it. It’s in the not trying.

I carry a notebook with me to jot down ideas that come to me. They always do. I find writing by hand additionally helps in the creative process.

My favourite park is the little woodland of the Little Rouge River, located off a small road hidden from the sprawling desert of suburbia.

my old maple leaning over the Little Rouge River (photo by Nina Munteanu)

It was spring when I first entered this forest. I inhaled its complex smell, awakening with spring flowers. At my entrance, chipmunks scattered and scolded me for interrupting their calm. I chuckled and thought that I’d seen more within the space of one minute here than I had in a year in the suburb I currently live in. A duff-strewn path led me beneath the pungent smell of pine and cedar. I made my way toward the riverbank where beech and maple leaned over the water. I found a place to write.

When I returned in the fall, the forest was a mix of colour. Most of the deciduous trees had dropped their leaves in a revealing show of textured grays, gray-browns and blacks. The bare trunks and fractal branches contrasted with the deep greens of the conifers. Rogue trees—like the oak and beech—still claimed their leaves, adding deep russet tones to the varied grays and deep greens of the canopy. The forest was now more open, emerging with ancient magnificence from a soft brown carpet on the ground. The air was fresh with the scent of loam, decaying leaves and saprophyte activity.

A shallow part of the Little Rouge ices over with the first snowfall in late autumn (photo by Nina Munteanu)

I strayed off the path toward the riverbank again. I was looking for the old sugar maple I’d spent time with the previous spring. After several bends in the river, I saw it, leaning precipitously over the river like an old man sharing an intimate story. It had already lost its leaves; they covered the ground in a soft carpet. The old tree literally hugged the bank in a braided network of snaking roots; like a carved figurehead hugs the prow of a great tall ship.

Burl on my maple (photo by Nina Munteanu)

Eager to see my old friend up close, I scrambled down the overhanging bank using the old maple’s root “stairway,” then ungracefully dropped onto the cobbles below. Every part of my gnarly old maple tree was splendid. Its shaggy trunk stretched up with typical silhouette of branching-out arms that every Canadian kid drew when they were six. The horizontal roots stretched out in a tangle and stitched the bank together, keeping it intact.

The Little Rouge River calls me to sit and listen to its flowing song—a joyful playful symphony of breaths, chortles and open-throated froth. I sit. And still my breath. I find my whole body relax from the tension of the suburban drive. I am home, sighing with a rhythm I’d forgotten. Re-aligning. Bones with rock. Rock with twig. Twig with root. The animals no longer scold me. They have resumed their natural rhythm, as I merge into scenery. And write…

****

gnarly cedar roots (photo by Nina Munteanu)

What I do is not new to creative thinkers all over the world and throughout time. I share great company with people who used walking (usually in Nature) as a venue toward creative thinking (and writing). All great walkers.

Aristotle conducted his lectures while walking the grounds of his school in Athens. His followers, who chased him as he walked, were known as the peripatelics (e.g., Greek for meandering). Darwin refined his ideas on natural selection and other topics during his frequent walks along his “thinking path”, a gravel road called Sandwalk Wood near his home in southeast England. Dickens walked for miles each day: “If I could not walk far and fast, I think I should just explode and perish.” Beethoven often took solitary walks. He strolled the Viennese woods for hours, finding inspiration for his works and jotting them down on a notepad that he carried with him. Nietzsche loved his walks in the mountains: “it is only ideas gained from walking that have any worth.” For Wordsworth, the act of walking was one in the same with the act of writing poetry. Both involved rhythm and meter. Henry David Thoreau was known for his great walkabouts. Walking through nature for Thoreau was a pilgrimage without a destination—more discovery and rapture.

Yellow birch trunk (photo by Nina Munteanu)

Stanford researchers demonstrated that walking boosts creative inspiration. They showed that the act of walking significantly increased creativity for 81% of the participants and that the creative ideas generated while walking were not irrelevant or far-fetched, but innovative and practical.

“The answer begins with changes to our chemistry,” writes journalist Ferris Jabr in The New Yorker (2014). “When we go for a walk, the heart pumps faster, circulating more blood and oxgen not just to the muscles but to all the organs—including the brain. Many experiments have shown that after or during exercise, even very mild exertion, people perform better on tests of memory and attention. Walking on a regular basis also promotes new connections between brain cells, staves off the usual withering of brain tissue that comes with age, increases the volume of the hippocampus (a brain region crucial to memory) and elevates levels of molecules that both stimulate the growth of new neurons and transmit messages between them.”

Nina Munteanu walks the forest (photo by Merridy Cox)

While walking is good for our creativity and general well-being, walking in a park or wilderness is so much better. Researchers in Europe and Japan found that anxiety and depression was significantly reduced in the presence of green space and that it boosted attentiveness, focus and academic performance. Vegetation creates “a halo of improved health.” Dr. Frances Kuo at the University of Illinois demonstrated that just seeing a tree helps cognition and promotes a sense of well-being. While a human-made environment of objects—cars and buildings—requires high-frequency processing in the brain; a landscaped environment allows the observer to relax his or her attention, resulting in reduced muscle tension, lower heart rate, and a generally less stressful physiology.

Finding a favourite tree might be the best thing you do to boost your creativity.

Forest path in Nova Scotia (photo by Nina Munteanu)

References:

Nina Munteanu by a large willow tree (photo Jane Raptor)

Cameron, Julia. 1992. “The Artist’s Way”. Penguin Putnam Inc., New York, NY. 222pp.

Deasey, Louise. 2015. “Negative Ions Are Great for Your Health”.  Body and Soul.

Munteanu, Nina. 2013. The Journal Writer: Finding Your Voice. Pixl Press, Vancouver, BC. 170pp.

Wells, Nancy M. 2000. “At Home with Nature: Effects of ‘Greenness’ on Children’s Cognitive Functioning”. Environment and Behavior 32 (6): 775–795.

Surfing Schumann’s Wave and Catching the Ion Spray: Everything in Life is Vibration

March 17, 2019March 29, 2020 / thealiennextdoor / 1 Comment

The Wave by Hokusai

Sometime ago, on another writing site that I used to post for, a reader/writer made an interesting comment to my article ” Stoking the Scintillation of Inspiration.” She said, “I feel energized and challenged to see where my mind takes me in the midst of my mommy days. Often it’s when my four young children are home the ideas long to push through the clutter of multiple voices and feverish activity.”

It made me think about what it is in those “repetitive tasks” that stoke our muse and how we as writers can benefit from them. Is it simply God’s ironic sense of humor (e.g., “You’re too busy to do anything about it now, so I will give you a genius moment to ponder….Good luck remembering it!”). Or have we inadvertently caught the universal wave? Einstein once said, “everything in life is vibration.”

We are creatures of rhythm: circadian, diurnal, and seasonal. Let’s face it; our environment—light especially—affects our behavior, psychologically, physiologically and even socially. For instance, mood-altering chemicals generated in the pineal gland in our brain, are partially affected by the light received from our retina. Our world is composed of energy, light, sound and matter, all expressed at different frequencies. Music—which is all frequency—can heal the body, strengthen the mind and unlock the creative spirit. For instance, music with a pulse of about sixty beats per minute can shift consciousness from the beta wave (ordinary consciousness at 14-20 Hz) toward enhanced alertness and general well-being at the alpha range (heightened awareness at 8-13 Hz, and essentially the standing wave in Schumann’s Cavity).

wave patterns (photo by Nina Munteanu)

The study of cymatics, coined in 1967 by Swiss doctor Hans Jenny from the Greek word kyma (wave), explores how sound affects gases, liquids, plasmas and solids and how vibrations, in the broad sense, generate and influence patterns, shapes and moving processes. When sound travels through non-solids it moves in longitudinal waves called compression waves. In matter, the medium is displaced by sound waves, causing it to oscillate at a frequency relative to the sound, and visible patterns emerge.

Using crystal oscillators and a “tonoscope” to set plates and membranes vibrating, Jenny controlled frequency and amplitude/volume to demonstrate that simple frequencies and songs could rearrange the essential molecular structure of water and other materials.

Wave patterns (photo by Nina Munteanu)

Jenny was convinced that biological evolution resulted from vibrations in a kind of fractal progression, and that their nature determined the ultimate outcome. He speculated that every cell has its own frequency and that a number of cells with the same frequency create a new frequency, which is harmonious with the original, which in its turn possibly forms an organ that also creates a new frequency in harmony with the two preceding ones. Jenny was saying that the key to understanding how we can heal the body with the help of tones lies in our understanding of how different frequencies influence genes, cells and various structures in the body (think of how you feel when you listen to Mozart’s Divertimento No. 15 vs. when you’re listening to Mick Jagger belt out Ruby Tuesday).

Boldly extending his tonoscope research into voice and language, Jenny discovered that when the vowels of ancient Hebrew and Sanskrit were pronounced, the sand took the shape of the written symbols for these vowels, while modern languages didn’t generate the same result. This has led spiritual philosophers to ponder if “sacred languages” (including Tibetan and Egyptian) have the power to influence and transform physical reality, to create things through their inherent power, or through the recitation or singing of sacred texts, to heal a person who has gone “out of tune”?…

This is an exceptional concept…

In a controversial movie called “Water”, Rustum Roy, professor at the State University of Pennsylvania and member of the International Academy of Sciences, posited that water has “memory”, based on the structure it takes on as a result of electromagnetic fields and various frequencies to which it is exposed.

Wave patterns (photo by Nina Munteanu)

I’m a practicing aquatic scientist and I’m compelled to note that the human brain is 75% water; it is not surprising that we can be affected by the shape and form of water itself—and, in turn, may shape water with our minds. This is in itself a startling admission and opens up a myriad of controversial topics, which many scientists find hard to reconcile and refuse to investigate, let alone entertain. And, yes, I am edging into the area of metaphysics, “science fiction”, and “fanciful thinking”. A place populated by heretics who do “questionable science”, those rogue mavericks who dare step outside the realm of traditional science to imagine, to dare pursue a truth using unconventional means.

Here’s my point: water is important to us in ways science can’t even begin to explain. Because science can’t yet explain it, should we abandon the potential and its investigation? All good science was once perceived as magic before it was understood.

Let me take it one step further:

Water patterns (photo by Nina Munteanu)

I posit that our entire bodies are sending and receiving vibrations at different frequencies with our environment, other people and other animals around us, inanimate objects, even the seemingly ‘empty’ space. It has permeated our culture more than you may realize, including the metaphors we have seamlessly adopted in our common language: terms like “bad vibes”, “you can feel the tension”, and “you could cut the air in here with a knife”.

If you think this is all too weird, consider the weirdness of quantum mechanics, which shows us that not only is “solid” matter made up mostly of energy and “empty” space but what makes a solid a chair vs. you sitting on it is the vibration of its energy. Quantum science has demonstrated that light and matter are made of both particles and waves (New Scientist, May 6, 2010) and can exist in two simultaneous states (heard of Schrodinger’s Cat?). Let’s consider, for instance, “entanglement” (quantum non-local connection), the notion that particles can be linked in such a way that changing the quantum state of one instantaneously affects the other, even if they are light years apart. And what does it mean when solid flows, ghost-like, through itself under certain conditions? Or parallel universes are created by splitting realities? (You’ll have to check out my historical fantasy “The Last Summoner” for a unique take on this popular notion).

Nobel prize-winning physicist Richard Feyman says of the paradoxes presented by quantum mechanics, “the ‘paradox’ is only a conflict between reality and your feeling of what reality ought to be.”

So, what does all of this have to do with “writing”, scintillating or otherwise, some of you may be asking… Well, nothing … Everything …

Reference:
Munteanu, Nina. 2016. “Water Is…The Meaning of Water” Pixl Press, Vancouver, BC. 585pp.

My Writing Retreat in Niagara-on-the-Lake

July 8, 2018July 8, 2018 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

Ravine Vineyard Estate Winery

When I’m not teaching writing at UofT in Toronto, I’m often writing at home. And if I’m not writing at home, I’m often traveling to where I will write. You get the picture: I’m a writer. My website mantra reads: “I live to write; I write to live.”

I’m always looking for great places to write, to synthesize observations and experiences for an article or to plot my next novel. As writers, we are constantly studying the nature of our surroundings, how people interact, what they do, how events affect us and more. Writing is as much about experiencing life as writing about it. But we need both to flourish: something to write about and a place to write about it.

Noble Restaurant, Prince of Wales Hotel

Horse and carriage on King Street

Recently a good friend of mine lured me out of town on a trip to Niagara-on-the-Lake. She didn’t blink an eye when I grabbed my computer and happily accompanied her on our wonderful adventure. We started at the Prince of Wales Hotel, named in honour of the 1901 visit of the Duke and Duchess of York, who were later crowned King George V and Queen Mary.

Fred Gamula

We got there just in time for supper in the elegant and panoramic Noble restaurant. Of course, we had to order the divine “Grand Hotel Tasting Menu”, a four-course meal, paired with several fine wines. Sommelier Fred Gamula guided us through the “Grand Hotel Tasting Menu” of crisp romaine hearts, grilled chili marinated quail, pan seared trout and Grand Hotel Opera cake. Each course was paired with a wine that brought out the best in each; from an Inniskillin Chardonnay Reserve to a Flat Rock Twisted, to a Cave Spring Gamay and finally a Taylor Fladgate port. Gamula and I got into a diverting conversation about looking after the environment and water (I later gave him a copy of my book “Water Is…”).

Patio of Prince of Wales Hotel

Gamula grew up on a small fruit farm in Niagara-on-the-Lake and has seen some changes in the area due to development. Some not so good. We agreed that the trick is to embrace influx while preserving the very reason for that influx—to enjoy and preserve the wonderful country, vineyards and wineries in the area.

I found a wonderful place to write on the Churchill Room patio facing King Street, where the horses and carriages waited for customers. As the sun set, I drank my Campari and orange juice and wrote my novel to the cheerful sounds of birds, rustling trees and exploring people.

Nina and her favourite hippo

The next morning we wandered Queen Street before heading out to explore wine country. Curious about Reiner’s window display, I wandered into what I thought was a leather shop—expecting the usual fare such as purses, satchels, belts and the like; but it turned out to be a speciality leather ottoman store.

These weren’t ordinary ottomans—they were all animals! Hippos, bears, moose, elephants and pigs stood on stout legs, begging for a nice home to live in.

The store is named after leather crafter Reiner Henneveld who came to Canada in 1950 from Germany and created his first animal-shaped ottoman in the shape of a pig—after his pet pig, Wilbur. Reiner’s two sons have taken up the craft with a commitment to individual design and workmanship that includes hand sewing, cutting and stuffing and using the finest upholstery leather. I found them comfortable and very attractive.

Wayne Gretzky with his “99”

After lunch we visited old favourites and explored new vineyards and wineries. Wayne Gretzky Estates recently opened its winery and distillery on Old Stone Road. The estate is getting known for its No. 99 Red Cask Canadian Whisky; “the same soils that produce great grapes also grow grains that are used to produce whisky,” they write. The whisky is made in small batches from rye, malted rye and corn that has been individually mashed, fermented and distilled. After aging, the whisky is finished with red wine casks from the Wayne Gretzky winery.

General store of Ravine Vineyard Estate Winery

Pork chop, sea-salted bread and Sangria at the Ravine restaurant

The Ravine Vineyard Estate Winery is an old haunt for its charming and diversely stocked general store and its rustic-style restaurant with imaginative and surprising menus. Both inside and outside seating offer vistas of undulating countryside and the sounds of a working vineyard. Another great place to write!

A sparrow sings his heart out on his very own house in Ravine vineyard

Free range chickens roam the vineyard at Ravine

I’m half-inclined to shift over to writing a murder-mystery series about a young recent George Brown graduate who comes to Niagara-on-the-Lake to work as a Sommelier in one of the hotels—only to find intrigue and—of course—a murder to solve. What do you think?…

Nina Munteanu is an ecologist, limnologist and internationally published author of award-nominated speculative novels, short stories and non-fiction. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books.

Feeding the Muse: Going on a “Writer’s Date”

April 15, 2015April 4, 2020 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

Late Sunday afternoon, minutes after my last panel and still exalted from stimulating sharing at Ad Astra 2015, I threw off my jacket and put on my sandals then drove west on the 401 in search of adventure. A playful wind blew as I reached my destination: Niagara on the Lake.

This was my first writer’s date this year. And, in truth, I’d almost forgotten to attend the SF con because I was so excited about my date. No, it wasn’t that kind of date; more like a mini-writer’s retreat. Julia Cameron coined the term “artist’s date” to define any kind of muse-feeding activity. The key is to do it ALONE. Basically an artist/writer date is a block of time you set aside to nurture your creative muse. In its primary form, says Cameron, “the artist date is an excursion, a play date that you preplan and defend against all interlopers…That means no lovers, friends, spouses, children—no taggers-on of any stripe.”

It’s just you and your inner-artist: your inner creative child.

My Writer’s Date started with Niagara on the Lake and La Toscana di Carlotta, possibly NOTL’s primo Bed and Breakfast (go check the rave reviews on Trip Advisor). Located close to King Street in the historic village, the B&B is a lovely heritage house with beautifully designed rooms. Carlotta passionately prepares an authentic Italian breakfast that includes freshly squeezed orange juice, yogurt and fresh fruit, bread, crostini, eggs created like a work of art and even dessert! But that’s not even the best part; both Carlotta and partner Kash are such beautiful people and wonderful hosts. You start out thinking they’re so interesting and end up embracing them as friends.

I stayed 2 days and my activities included a evening walks through the charming historic town (where Il Gelato di Carlotta is a must—considered a gem by actress Moya O’Connel), several ice-wine tastings, walks along the Niagara River and even a blitz look at Niagara Falls and Tesla’s statue.

It was a dizzying sensory intake, tempered with wonderful reflection to Nature’s awakening. Spring in southern Ontario lies just on the cusp of bursting into its full glory. I could smell its intent on the warm breeze and in the joyful excitement of birds and butterflies in the still-Spartan forest. At the edge of the wooded bluff I found a moss-covered log to sit on and listened to the water lapping below. I pulled out my new fountain pen and notepad and started to write. I’d left my computer behind and revelled in the pen flowing across the paper, forming words like a magician.

I had set no solid itinerary (except that I had to be back in Toronto to teach the next day). And, because of it, I experienced everything with the open wonder that comes with no expectation. I relaxed and explored. I poked around and smelled the dirt. I napped. I dawdled. I went in circles and changed my mind. I chased after butterflies and listened to the wind. I got a hazelnut gelato and licked it slowly. I wandered off the forest path and got lost. I discovered an obscure winery and tasted Cabernet Franc ice wine. I wept to Bocelli and Brightman’s “Time to Say Goodbye” … Mama Mia! I took my socks and shoes off and took pictures of my feet (No, I didn’t then put them on Facebook). I sat on a forest path bench and read a book. I drove down roads I’d never been on and let them take me somewhere… I found myself somehow back at Il Gelato di Carlotta and decided that fate had brought me there to try another ice cream flavour.

Think of doing a writer’s date from time to time. If not consciously to re-awaken your Muse, then to let it know you care. Every muse needs a bit of tender loving care. Spend time in solitude. A long country walk. A stroll along the beach. An exploration of your own area at night or at the break of dawn.

You don’t even need to leave the house. In a panel I sat on with Kelly Armstrong at Ad Astra, she shared what a colleague of hers did. From time to time the colleague disappeared into the bathroom of her house with a snorkel. The snorkel was the critical element. With it, she could completely immerse herself in a dark calm and block out the whole outside world, leaving her with her own infinite universe.

The writer’s date is a gift you give yourself. It’s a gift of receiving, of opening yourself to discovery, wonder, and inspiration. It is ultimately a self-nurturing activity in which you let your child-self out to play. “The imagination-at-play is at the heart of all good work,” Cameron tells us. Cameron also warns that you may find yourself avoiding artist dates. “Recognize this resistance as a fear of intimacy—self-intimacy.”

It may be one of the hardest things to do. You (never mind others) will insist that it’s a selfish thing and you are shirking some duty you must be leaving behind with it. And you’ll find some reason to back out or include someone. Learn to guard against these invasions!

Keep it sacred. Let your imagination play and discover—or rediscover—what it loves.

As Carl Jung astutely observed, “The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect but by the play instinct acting from inner necessity. The creative mind plays with the objects it loves.”

Horseshoe Falls, Niagara Falls, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)

Nina Munteanu is an ecologist and internationally published author of award-nominated speculative novels, short stories and non-fiction. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books.

Why You Want to Go To A Writer’s Convention

April 7, 2015April 4, 2020 / thealiennextdoor / 5 Comments

A while ago I attended (and participated as panelist and guest author) at the World Fantasy Convention in Toronto. And I was all jazzed about it! Why?… Well, let me tell you why…

If you haven’t yet attended a writer’s conference or convention, it’s high time you did. Because, not only are you missing out on an education, you are missing out on a sub-culture that may change your life as a writer, help feed the hungry and align the universe. Seriously.

The last World Fantasy Convention I attended was several years ago in 2008. It was held in Calgary, Alberta, when I still lived in Vancouver, British Columbia. The ten-hour drive through some of the most glorious Canadian wilderness and mountains was bracing and we were lucky that the weather played fair. It was an auspicious start to a wonderful journey of self-discovery.

Hosted by toastmaster Tad Williams, this world-class convention featured guests of honor, David Morrell, Barbara Hambly, Tom Doherty and Todd Lockwood. The World Fantasy Convention promised great things and delivered them. And I’m not just talking about that white chocolate cranberry-date-nut dip that had me loitering at the hospitality suite. Or all those midnight parties that served savory wine with salted almonds, sharp cheese and colorful conversation with the likes of David Hartwell, Tor editor and impeccable dresser (gotta love those ties!). I’m not even talking about the hot tub that sprung a leak on the 18^th floor at 1 am or the entertaining panels and readings, which rocked for both writer and reader.

What made the con great for me was seeing my writing community (both writing colleagues and readers who followed my writing) and meeting new people, all lovers of books and “story”.

I was rudely eyeballing someone’s nametag on his chest, when I collided with the Prince George crowd that included authors, Lynda Williams (herself responsible for some pretty nasty intergalactic wars), Nathalie Mallet (who cages princes) and publisher Virginia O’Dine of Bundoran Press (rumored to have been somehow responsible for the hot tub fiasco). I also chummed with Jennifer Rahn, author of The Longevity Thesis, who was charmed by my sly cat (she’s a softy at heart). My cat-colleague Toulouse just kept charming his way through the crowd right to the book fair. We wandered to the back where Anita Hades of Edge Books gave Toulouse her usual greeting (a feline move that was a cross between Sophie Marceau and Brigitte Helm; both she and Toulouse have French blood coursing through their veins, after all—c’est vrai!).

I’d come a long way from the first writer’s conference I went to as a budding writer of a few short stories and non-fiction articles…

Here’s what author Susan Denney says about her first writer’s conference: “Going to my first writers’ conference was an act of faith. I was just starting to make some freelance sales when the members of my writers’ group encouraged me to join them at a conference a few hundred miles away. The expense didn’t seem justified to me. The cost was far more than I had earned through writing that year. But they convinced me at last and it proved to be a great investment. The benefits of a writers’ conference are there for anyone who has a desire to be a better writer.”

Here are some reasons why you can’t afford NOT to go to a conference or convention:

Contacts: you will make contacts with people working in the industry, an extremely valuable asset; this industry is a social one, based on trust, respect and joyfulness. While there’s no guarantee that you will meet anyone famous or influential, you will definitely meet people who know more about writing than you do. Just hanging out with professional writers, editors and agents is educational. If nothing else, you will gain some confidence and ease with industry people, who are real people too. Some may become friends; some may become colleagues; some will become both.

Appointments: through agent/editor/author appointments, you will have a chance to have a quality private conversation with a professional on all aspects of writing and publishing. This is your chance to pitch your novel or ask that one burning question. You know you’ll get a candid and professional answer. That in itself is invaluable and may be enough reason to attend the con. Appointments are also your best chance of getting your manuscript read. This is because it bypasses the slush-pile and months of waiting for a response. More and more editors and agents look to conferences to meet potential authors. For them, meeting an author in person is a bonus to their gauging potential success in a relationship with them.

Education on Craft & Marketing: you will learn something about craft and marketing, no matter what stage you are in your writing career. Depending on the conference or convention, aside from good information from panels, you may also get personal mentoring, 1-page critiques, or attend small themed workshops. Feedback from an experienced writer can save you months of frustration and grief. Just hearing about what is currently going on in the industry is also valuable and conferences are a good way to get the skinny on what the current issues in the writing and publishing industry are. Getting it from those who are working inside avoids the idle and potentially harmful gossip.

Community: you will be exposed to a community of writers, hundreds of creative people in various stages of their careers. By interacting with both those you can help and those who can help you, you will gain a measure of both humility and confidence and satisfaction. We learn so much by helping others. Simply being with other writers can help hone your people-skills, the same ones you will need when approaching agents, editors, publishers and research sources during your career as a professional. Remember, if you aren’t having fun, you are missing one of the most important aspects of attending a writer’s conference, and you will lose your own effectiveness.

Energy: there is nothing more energizing than a common sharing among those of like-minded thought and vision. Writing is primarily an individual pursuit, often thought to belong to the introvert; but, to succeed in the writing/publishing industry a writer must display staying power, persistence, confidence and enduring energy. There is nothing quite as inspirational as hearing an accomplished writer provide their story of victory against odds. I will never forget the moving words of Ray Bradbury at a conference in Palm Springs years ago. I have repeated those words many times since. If you come to a conference with the right mind-set, I guarantee that you will leave with more energy than you came and with a burning need to write.

Exposure: depending on the kind of conference or convention you attend, you will have the opportunity to expose yourself to something different (e.g., different fiction genres and associated communities; fiction vs. non-fiction; different media; etc.). I attended a romance writers conference a few years back (I write mostly science fiction and fantasy—but often with romance elements in them) and found it bracingly educational.

New Markets & Ideas: conferences attract writers of all kinds. Conferences provide fertile ground for cross-pollination of ideas, markets and marketing ploys. Writers, like you, are generally a nice crowd; most are willing and eager to share their successes and failures. And contacts. Sharing is one of the great things that happens at conferences. There may be a common pin board set up for people to share. Most conferences are Twitter and Facebook enabled for quick and easy viral sharing. If you don’t come away from a conference with at least one new idea, contact or market, you haven’t done your job: talk to people.

Here are a few do’s and don’ts for when you go conferencing:

Wear comfortable but not sloppy clothing and shoes (it’s likely that you will be doing a fair bit of standing and walking); you want to make a good impression. Be yourself and dress accordingly.

Bring promotional material with you (e.g., business cards, flyers on your book, stories, etc.). Have something to share and exchange with other writers and professionals. Most conferences also have tables devoted to shareware. This is your chance to introduce you and your writing to others.

Take something to write with (e.g., notebook and pen or iPad, etc.).

Talk to people. Chances are that everyone there is interesting.

Respect the time, particularly other people’s time, and keep your appointments and meetings.

Don’t bring your heavy manuscript with you to the conference. Agents and editors don’t have the time or inclination or space in their suitcase for it. Use the conference to make an impression and get an invitation for something later in writing.

Keep all of your interactions verbal and face-to-face. Don’t rely on memorized speeches or a folded up written pitch in your pocket. Keep it casually professional. Make eye contact and speak from the heart. Show your passion.

Have fun. And don’t be afraid to show it; there’s nothing more infectious and attractive than someone having fun.

Some upcoming writing-artistic conferences/ conventions / festivals in the Toronto area include:

Ad Astra: April 10-12, Sheraton Parkway Toronto North Hotel, Markham, ON
Spur Festival: April 9-12, Toronto Reference Library, Toronto, ON
Toronto Screen Writing Conference: April 11, 12, Daniels Spectrum, Dundas Street E.
Ontario Writer’s Conference: April 24-25, Deer Creek Golf and Banquet Facility
TCAF: May 9, 10, Toronto Reference Library, 789 Yonge St.
Toronto Indie Arts Market Small Press & Literary Festival: May 25, Gladstone Hotel
Limestone Genre Expo: July 25, Ongwanada Resource Centre, Kingston, ON
Word on the Street: September 27, Harbourfront Centre

Wake Up Your Muse: How My Cat Taught Me the Art of Being

November 10, 2014April 5, 2020 / thealiennextdoor / 3 Comments

My cat, Sammy … being…

I’m not a very patient person. I make no time for writer’s block or lingering in useless limbo over some plot issue or misbehaving minor character. I write pretty much to a tight schedule: this short story to that market by this date; edits to this book to the editor by that date; blog posts created by such and such a time; an article to another market by another date. It goes on and on. When I go to my computer to write, I write.

Then there’s Sammy. My cat.

Who likes to jump on my lap, make himself all comfortable and then lie over my arm — trapping it along with five of my typing digits. Now what??? Some of you would advise me to simply pull out my pinned arm and/or shove him off. But how can I disturb such a blissful creature? He is so content furled on me, so satisfied that he has captured that wandering appendage of business that is all his now. Content in the bliss of now. In the bliss of cat-purr-meditation…

Pinned in the moment, my mind first struggles with the need to pound out the next line. My mind then rephrases and teases out nuances of that line. Finally, it wanders out with my gaze and I find myself daydreaming in a kind of trance. Giving in to the cat-purr-meditation.

And it is here that magic happens. In the being; not in the doing.

This is the irony of writing and the muse. To write we need to live; we need to have something to write about and we need to be in that state of mind that allows us to set it to print. I am at my best as a writer when I am focused on the essence of the story, its heart and soul beating through me with a life of its own.

My cat Sammy isn’t the only vehicle to my magical muses.

Waking up the Muse

Here are a few things that help me entice those capricious muses into action:

Music: music moves me in inexplicable ways. I use music to inspire my “muse”. Every book I write has its thematic music, which I play while I write and when I drive to and from work (where I do my best plot/theme thinking). I even go so far as to have a musical theme for each character.

Walks: going for a walk, particularly in a natural environment, uncluttered with human-made distractions, also unclutters the mind and soul. It grounds you back to the simplicity of life, a good place to start.

Cycling: one of my favorite ways to clear my mind is to cycle (I think any form of exercise would suffice); just getting your heart rate up and pumping those endorphins through you soothes the soul and unleashes the brain to freely run the field.

Attend writer’s functions: go to the library and listen to a writer read from her work. You never know how it might inspire you. Browse the bookshelves of the library or bookstore. Attend a writer’s convention or conference.

Visit an art gallery, go to a movie: art of any kind can inspire creativity. Fine art is open to interpretation and can provoke your mind in ways you hadn’t thought before. If you go with an appreciative friend and discuss what you’ve seen you add another element to the experience.

Go on a trip with a friend: tour the city or, better yet, take a road trip with a good friend or alone (if you are comfortable with it). I find that travelling is a great way to help me focus outward, forget myself, and open my mind and soul to adventure and learning something new. Road trips are metaphoric journeys of the soul.

Form a writer’s group: sharing ideas with people of like mind (or not, but of respectful mind) can both inspire you and provide the seeds of ideas.

Practice Cat-Purr-Meditation: you need a willing cat for this; I find that I need to study my cat’s meditative practices; where does he most like to relax? Mine loves to look outside the window onto the back yard and garden. That’s where I take him and there, together, we breathe deep and “purr” in the moment…You can read more about purring cat meditation in my Alien Next Door post, “Perfecting the Cat Purr Meditation”

Finding the Courage to Write…and Publish

October 8, 2014April 5, 2020 / thealiennextdoor / Leave a comment

Jungfrau, Switzerland (photo by Nina Munteanu)

“Being creative means giving yourself the freedom to be who you really are,” says Nancy Slonim Aronie, author of Writing from the Heart: Tapping the Power of Your Inner Voice.

But that takes courage. A lot of courage.

Ralph Keyes, author of The Courage to Write, admits that “what makes writing so scary is the perpetual vulnerability of the writer. It’s not the writing as such that provokes our fear so much as other people’s reaction to our writing.” In fact, adds Keyes, “the most common disguise is fear of them, their opinion of us, when it’s actually our own opinion of ourselves that we’re worried about.” Keyes suggests that ultimately “mastering techniques [of style and craft] will do far less to improve writing than finding the will, the nerve, the guts to put on paper what you really want to say.”

Peaks at Zermatt, Switzerland (Nina Munteanu)

In fall of 2013, I attended a writers’ conference, where I launched my short story collection about evolution “Natural Selection” along with several other authors launching their works. I recall one admitting to feeling terror when her first short story—whose main antagonist was based on her mother—was accepted by a magazine. Her first thought was: OMG! What have I done?

Says Keyes: “Any writing lays the writer open to judgment about the quality of his work and thought. The closer he gets to painful personal truths, the more fear mounts—not just about what he might reveal, but about what he might discover should he venture too deeply inside. But to write well, that’s exactly where we must venture.”

So, why do it, then? Why bother? Is it worth it to make yourself totally vulnerable to the possible censure and ridicule of your peers, friends, and relatives? To serve up your heart on a platter to just have them “drag it around” as Stevie Nicks would say…

Ski hut in Zermatt, view of Matterhorn, Switzerland (photo by Nina Munteanu)

Welcome to the threshold of your career as a writer. This is where many aspiring writers stop: in abject fear, not of failure but of “success”. The only difference between those that don’t and those that do, is that the former come to terms with their fears, in fact learn to use them as a barometer to what is important.

How do you get past the fear of being “exposed”, past the anticipated disappointment of peers, past the terror of success?

The answer is passion.

If you are writing about something you are passionate about, you will find the courage to see it through. Says Keyes, “the best writing flows less from acquired skill than conviction expressed with courage. By this I don’t mean moral convictions, but the sense that what one has to say is something others need to know.”

This is ultimately what drives a writer to not just write but to publish: the need to share one’s story, over and over again. To prevail, persist, and ultimately succeed, a writer must have conviction and believe in his or her writing. You must believe that you have something to say that others want to read. Ask yourself why you are a writer. Your answer might surprise you.

Every writer is an artist. And every artist is a cultural reporter, whose business is to report the truth and sometimes hold a culture accountable.

“Real art,” says Susan Sontag, “makes us nervous.”

The first step is to acknowledge your passion and own it. Flaunt it, even. Find your conviction, define what matters and explore it to the fullest. You will find that such an acknowledgement will give you the strength and fortitude to persist and persevere, particularly in the face of those fears. Use the fears to guide you into that journey of personal truths. Frederick Busch described it this way: “You go to dark places … to steal the trophy and get out.”

Every writer, like his or her protagonist, is on a Hero’s Journey (see my other posts here). Like the Hero of our epic, we too must acknowledge the call, pass the threshold guardian, maneuver the abyss and face the beast before we can return “home” with our prize.

“If you long to excel as a writer,” says Finke, “treasure the passion that is unique within yourself. Take the irreplaceable elements of your life and craft them into your own personal contribution to the world.” And worry about the rest later.

Are you afraid to write, to answer the call of your creative urges? Good. If you’re not scared, you’re not writing.—Ralph Keyes

View of Matterhorn from Zermatt, Switzerland (photo by Nina Munteanu)

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