creative writing – My Life in Paragraphs

Writing Discipline in the Chaos of Life

It’s summertime and the living is not so easy, at least in this foster dog home.

With my office cottage filled with three dogs and three puppies, plus a serious medical (possibly hospice) foster dog, my office cat Hazel, and I are both overwhelmed by the dogs, their needs, and their noise.

Which means that I am not getting a lot of writing done. Sigh.

I seem to get myself into these situations on the regular. I’m writing this from a dog bed, where I’m sitting with my Lima Bean, my foster dog who is struggling with advanced heartworm disease in addition to other serious health issues.

There are moments when I’m overwhelmed at all of it – the foster dogs, the nonprofit, our dog-friendly rental business, my writing career (or what’s left of it), and being there to support my family and friends (plus my own three dogs), not to mention my gardens (which so far this year are glorious!).

But then I consider all that is happening in our world, and remind myself that my overly full life is just so rich and I am just so dang lucky.

I used to say ‘blessed’ but I’ve grown to see that word differently these days, figuring that if I’m blessed, does that mean someone who doesn’t have as much is not blessed?

Why would I be blessed, and someone else not? I’ve never cottoned to a God who plays favorites.

I’m where I am because of circumstance, the work I’ve put in, and the decisions I’ve made. But I do believe there is also some luck, or maybe, timing, to it.

One thing I’ve learned after writing eight books is that if you wait until you have time to write, you’ll never get anything written. Which is why I’m here in this dog bed with this needy dog, finally creating a blog post.

When I have the opportunity to teach writing or coach another writer, I always advise them to ‘just write.’

Every day.

And I know there are lots of writers who pooh-pooh that advice these days, but I don’t think there is any other way to make progress. Everyone can write something, every day, even if it’s just a sentence. In fact, one-sentence journals make great stories.

So, having offered excuse after excuse for not finishing writing project after writing project in the last six months, I’ve decided to take my own medicine. I ~~plan to~~ will write every day.

Even if it’s just a blog post written from a dog bed. Even if it’s just a journal entry. Even if it’s just dictating something in a note on my phone.

No one else is going to create the time for me to write. Only I can do that. So, when I finally opened up a document to work today, and I heard Lima Bean whimpering, I unplugged my laptop and moved camp. Now, she is comforted by my side, and I am actually writing!

If you told yourself, ‘this summer I’m going to make time for my writing’ or if last January, you resolved to get something written this year, this is your wake-up call.

Carve out the time and space to write. Your soul needs it.

And maybe this world needs it. But if you find another (good) excuse today not to write, you’ll never know.

Just write.

Hey, thanks for reading. I know you’ve got lots of options, so thanks for sharing a few of your minutes with me.

Honored,

Cara

If you like what you read and want to support my writing, consider buying me a cup of coffee.

If you’re curious about what else I’m up to, check out my website, CaraWrites.com.

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Who Will Let the Dogs Out book written by Cara Achterberg

My newest book is out! You can order a copy and support the work of Who Will Let the Dogs Out, by purchasing one directly from us here.

If you’re a dog lover, check out my other blog, Another Good Dog. And if you want to know what is really happening in the animal shelters in this country, visit, Who Will Let the Dogs Out, and subscribe to the blog I write there.

I’d love to connect with you on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, or Substack, and I’m thrilled to get email from readers (and writers), you can reach me at carasueachterberg@gmail.com.

My latest novel, Blind Turn is a mother-daughter story of forgiveness in the aftermath of a fatal texting and driving accident. It won the Womens Fiction category of the American Writing Awards. Learn more about it and find out how to get your copy here.

PAUSE. BREATHE. Don’t Respond.

“PAUSE. BREATHE. Don’t Respond.”

This is a sticky note I have pasted to the top of my computer screen. I try to focus on it when I’m on zoom calls or when I read something on social media and feel the irrational urge to SCREAM AT PEOPLE (or cry).

Message from My Other Husband?

This morning, something magical happened. Maybe it was a coincidence, or maybe it was a sign. Or maybe it was a message. I’m still not certain exactly what it was. Nick thinks it was evidence of a husband I have in an alternate reality.

AI and Me (and You)

You may (or may not) have noticed that I’ve refrained from commenting or posting or engaging in discussion of AI. Initially, I just thanked my lucky stars that my kids are already grown and out of school, but secretly I really hoped this was a fad and it would go away.

It hasn’t.

Buy Me a Cup of Coffee

I only made it halfway through my Bird by Bird book club. The book sits on my desk now, taunting me. You didn’t finish, you didn’t finish, what a loser, once again, you didn’t finish. Not that, for one moment, I can imagine Anne Lamott would say that to me.

In fact, she mentions several times in the book that perfection is the oppressor. Not that only making it halfway is even remotely in the same country as perfection. Still.

The Cows Are Crying

The cows are crying. (not a sentence I ever imagined writing)

A few times a year, our little street echoes with the bellows and moans and outright wails of distressed cows. This means that one of our farmer neighbors has separated the mamas and babies, presumably so that the babies can go to be auctioned.

The sounds of the cows are heartbreaking. I doubt they know that their babies are likely destined for a slaughterhouse, but change on any level is hard.

Setting is Real (Bird by Bird Book Club)

The next chapter in Bird By Bird is titled, “Set Design”, or in other words, setting. Setting is critical, but it can also be nauseatingly overdone (and underdone, as my sad story will reveal).

The reader needs to be able to picture your characters somewhere. And not just somewhere, but in what kind of weather? What time of day? What season of the year?

My Book Club of One: Bird by Bird

I miss having a book club. Since moving to the valley, I’ve been a reading club of one.

I did try to get a book club going in the early days, but meetings were rescheduled or hijacked by too much wine and one by one everyone dropped out. It died after a very short run in which I think we might have read four books (none that I remember well except the one about Elon Musk which I had to read while holding my nose).

Move it or Lose It (Write it or Lose It)

My mother-in-law, who is 85 and still walking many miles a day, living on her own, volunteering at the library, traveling, and actively participating in her community’s life, likes to say “Move it or lose it.” And it rings so true, especially as I find myself shockingly almost old enough for the senior discount.

Of late I’ve realized that move it or lose it also is true of writing. If you want to be a writer, you have to keep writing. You can’t take a week or a month or a year off.

Why?

Writing or Wasting Time?

Are you wasting all your time with all these words? #areyoustillwriting #amwriting #writerswrite

I have gotten out of the habit of writing.

And serious writing depends on just that—habit. Not waiting for inspiration or time or a good night’s sleep or a better outline or the dog to shut up or until you take some class/webinar/retreat.

Writing requires that you sit down and do it. No matter what. As often as possible, every day if you can. You start where you are and spill your jumbled thoughts, wandering storylines, and vast emotions on the page. Your fingers tap along as your heart and mind try to make sense of it. (or maybe that’s just how it works for me.)

If you keep going, pressing past the doubt and frustration and discouragement and that little nagging bird fluttering all around you chirping that you’re wasting so much time, if you wave her away and type on, I promise something will come of it.