Author Michael Snyder's The Writerly Phases of Pooh

Michael Snyder is back and this time with a different picture. Apparently he was squinting in the previous one. He gave permission to crop it, but in light of his topic, I think the trees add to the ambiance. His bio, which was woefully missing from last week's interview, is making its debut appearance.

Obligatory bio: Michael Snyder is not named Russell Fink, but his upcoming debut novel has those words in the title. He would be much obliged if you would buy a few dozen copies for each of your relatives. Otherwise he may have to resort to busking* in your cul-de-sac.

(*Busking is defined as: Busking is the practice of doing live performances in public places to entertain people, usually to solicit donations and tips. Those engaging in this practice are called buskers. Busking is a British term used in many areas of the English-speaking world. ...)

(Michael Snyder’s abilities in said busking activities = way lame.)

The Writerly Phases of Pooh

Grief has five stages. AA has its twelve steps. That bald smiley fellow has seven highly effective habits. I would now like to suggest the Writerly Phases of Pooh. Here, in no particular order, are the various stages and a helpful hint to deal with each.

Let’s begin with the yellow lovable bear himself. Winnie is a dreamer, exploring endless possibilities with a naïve sense of adventure. He traipses through his imaginary forest with his pretend friends. The bees buzzing around the knothole prompt him to conjure creative ways to get at the honey inside. He braves mud, honey, and a vicious swarm to keep his eye on the prize. My advice for this stage is to camp out here as often as possible. And unlike our hero, I suggest you wear pants.

At some point we stand back and view our word gardens through the uptight, finicky worried lenses of Rabbit. We grow impatient and yell at anyone who dares trample our creation. To combat this tendency, have a carrot cocktail and chill out. Your first drafts are not that brilliant.

Sometimes we perch ourselves above the fray and spout wisdom like the know-it-all Owl. But he’s mostly clueless because he doesn’t listen. This one’s easy…seek and heed good solid critique. And avoid pretentious speech affectations; no one will take you seriously.

Then the nerves set in. We morph into the nervous, hand-wringing Piglet. We titter and fret and our voice quavers with doubt. Is my writing any good? Will they like me? Did I follow all the rules? My advice? Stop it. And avoid horizontal stripes if you don’t want your potbelly to show.

If you don’t squash your inner Piglet, you risk becoming one with Eeyore. He knows he stinks, that he only writes drivel. We throw up our hooves and say, “Why bother? I can’t write. No one will ever want to read my stuff anyway.” Go back and read something you wrote that you love. Surely there’s something!

The temptation could arise to mother our little Roo’s like Kanga. Suggestion: Keep your maternal instinct, but resist the urge to refer to your books as your children. Not only would you never let an editor talk to your real kid that way, but what if you had to abandon Junior simply because he was lacking in character or had holes in his story?

Tigger is tough. There’s the appropriately celebratory bouncing tiger and the prematurely celebratory bouncing tiger who ends up breaking things and annoying people. The advice here is easy…1) Always celebrate success, 2) Do not annoy people talking about your craft or your characters ad nauseam, 3) Never use acronyms like TTFN because they really annoy me!

Lastly, aspire to be Christopher Robin. He has to be in his 80’s by now, right? But he’s somehow managed to remain carefree and child-like. He actually believes in the characters he created. He loves them dearly, suffers with them, rejoices with them, isn’t afraid to correct them, and bails them out when he has to. The good news is that he does indeed wear pants. The bad news is that they are unfashionably short and a bit fruity-looking, if you ask me. Fashion aside, be a Christopher Robin.