Tag Archives: novel

The Birthday Resolutions Take Flight

12 Sunday Jan 2020

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Earlier this week, on the eve of my thirtieth birthday, I was flipping through a stack of old National Geographic magazines, looking for something to symbolize my goals for the new year. A friend was hosting a vision board party at a bar in Seattle’s Queen Anne neighborhood. Now, I’m not entirely sure I understand what a vision board is, so I’m sure I was doing it wrong, but as a former elementary school student, I felt pretty confident when I saw the magazines, scissors and glue sticks spread out on the table.

I didn’t have a plan. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, just words and images that inspired me. I slowly amassed an admirably random pile of clippings. Grabbing a poster board and a glue stick, I realized there was an unintentional, perhaps subconscious, theme in the images I’d chosen. From an advertisement, I’d lifted a man in a jet pack. An article on the redwoods yielded two scientists scaling a monolithic tree too tall to fit on the page. A feature on birds of prey offered up the image of a screaming hawk, its tawny wings spread wide.

Liftoff.

Reaching new heights.

Flight.

For most, if not all, of human history, we’ve yearned to emulate birds and soar among the clouds. However, despite our lofty aspirations, but it wasn’t until one hundred years ago that the Wright Brothers built a flying machine that could actually sustain flight. Reaching a difficult goal takes determination, repeated failure, and time. Orville and Wilbur Wright could never have achieved the world’s first powered flight without their fair share of crash landings. I think life is a lot like that.

Which brings me to my yearly tradition of making birthday resolutions instead of new year’s resolutions. No, I’m not getting my pilot’s license or going skydiving. Last year, I was not able to realize most of my resolutions. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but life took a couple of unexpected turns, as life has a tendency to do. As I set out on this new year, this new decade, and my thirtieth year of life, I’m aware that failure is the best teacher. I’ve learned a lot from what I tried and was unable to accomplish last year, and I have better ideas for how to improve my process in 2020.

This year, for my birthday resolutions, I have my sights set on taking flight — metaphorically, of course — while also taking to heart the lessons of failure. So, without further ado, here’s what I have my sights set on this year:

1. Pursue a Healthy Balance

Last year, I set myself a challenge of running a 5K. It didn’t happen. This year, I’m still focused on taking better care of myself, but I’m not limiting myself to running. I want to go for long walks, hike through the woods, kayak around Puget Sound, break a sweat working on our ongoing remodel and exercise on a regular schedule. If I do some running along the way, that would be excellent. Overall, though, I’m more interested in striking a healthier balance in my life — more physical activity, less laying on the couch — in whatever way works for me.

2. Write and Publish

Three years ago, I declared I would complete a draft of a novel by the time I turned thirty. Well, I’m thirty now and the novel isn’t done; however, I am halfway through and the story is starting to take wing. I didn’t make my arbitrary deadline, but that’s okay. I’m not giving up and will continue to chip away at my manuscript until it’s ready for its debut.

In addition to my novel, I have an itch to write more short fiction, which has taken a back seat recently. I love short stories and flash fiction and I have several ideas burning a hole in my notebook that I can’t wait to get to work on.

Finally, I’m refocusing on getting more of my work published in 2020. I have an opportunity in the next couple of months to submit to a local publication I really admire, and I hope it’s the start of getting more of my words into print (or pixels) for the world to see.

3. Indulge My Curiosity

Last fall, I embarked on a journey I could not have foreseen when I started an online program to earn a certificate in strategic communication and public relations. Going back to school, even in an incredibly limited fashion, reminded me that I don’t miss homework, but I do enjoy learning. The program is short (I’ll be finished in March), but I plan to continue stretching my brain, seeking out books, articles, podcasts, and documentaries to help me widen my worldview and challenge my preconceived ideas. The world is huge and complex and there is so much to know. As I enter my third decade, it’s obvious to me that I’m just scratching the surface.

Will I spread my wings and take flight this year? Only time will tell, and I’ll be sure to share highlights here on the blog. Thanks for reading!

— 30 —

Jonny Eberle is a writer, storyteller, and hawk fledgling nesting in Tacoma, WA. You can follow him on Twitter and join the mailing list to get exclusive content delivered straight to your inbox each month.

The First Thirty Thousand Words

09 Saturday Mar 2019

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Boardwalk, Yellowstone National Park. Copyright 2018 Jonny Eberle.

At my core, I’m a short story writer, a factor that has been both a blessing and a curse as I set out to write a full-length novel. At the 30,000-word mark, just over one-quarter of the way to my goal, it hit me that I was attempting something new. Up until this point, I could’ve taken what I’d written so far and turned it into a very long piece of short fiction; one of those short stories without an ending that thinks its clever for leaving the reader hanging for resolution. But moving past 30,000 words in my manuscript, that easy off ramp is disappearing in the rear view mirror.

A novel is not a short story that didn’t know when to quit. Short stories, well told, are like diamonds — small, multifaceted, and complex, but contained. They’re defined by the surprising depth and tension that comes from expertly working within the constraints of the form to make each and every word matter.

A novel is not like that. I don’t even have a metaphor to describe it, because I’m still discovering the differences. I’ve noticed that my writing style has started to change as my word count grows. I’m thinking more about the big picture and how scenes need to echo forward and back through the narrative. Three plot points aren’t enough to sustain the whole thing from beginning to end. Instead, I’ve felt the need to add three or more complications to each scene to maintain forward momentum.

There is no going back. I have to see this through and continue to see how the form forces my hand, as well as where I can push back to subvert it in small ways. I guess the best metaphor at this point of naïveté is a whirlpool. The farther in I venture, the more I am pulled in. It is a terrifying thing to see the scale of an unfolding novel reveal itself in bits and pieces, but it also gives me hope that I can charge ahead into the next scene and the next chapter until I at last reach the end.

Thirty thousand words down; 65,000 or so to go. Wish me luck.

— 30 —

Jonny Eberle is a writer, photographer, and filmmaker in Tacoma, WA. When not obsessing over his novel manuscript, he can be found on the Twitterverse. Watch his new short film, As Seen On TV, on YouTube or Facebook.

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The Birthday Resolutions Achieve Excellence

10 Thursday Jan 2019

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This year, I'm focusing on reaching my highest potential as a human being. No biggie.

Back in college, I read a lot of books by dead, old, Greek guys and I was surprised by how much their search for knowledge and meaning struck a chord with me. Aristotle in particular wrote that the highest achievement a human can reach is arête. This word is often translated as “excellence” or “moral virtue,” but my Classical Political Thought professor argued that a better translation was “reaching one’s potential.” To the ancient Greeks, living a life of significance wasn’t about being perfect, but about being the best person that you were capable of being.

As I turn another year older, I’ve found myself thinking about how I am working toward my arête, my greatest potential. With that in mind, I’m channeling Aristotle today as I write my annual list of birthday resolutions. Here we go:

Live in the Balance

This past year has been insane. My wife and I bought a house, remodeled said house while living with my in-laws, traveled to eight states, drove 2,000 miles, and dealt with personal setbacks. 2018 was a year of extremes. My hope for 2019 is to find peace. There will still be projects to do and tumultuous storms to weather — there always are — but I would like to see smoother sailing this year, with fewer unexpected twists along the way. My hope is to take time to enjoy the little things and to make space for much needed rest after a year of constant activity.

Run a 5K (for real)

Last year, I finished a 5K and it felt pretty good. But I ended up walking a fair portion of the course and after the race, I stopped running. Now, months later, I’ve let the endurance I built up slip away. I’m increasingly aware that my physical fitness is well worth the investment of time and sweat. This year, I’d like to recommit to that goal with the intention of running again and this time, running the whole thing from start to finish.

Carve Out Time to Write

Two years ago, I set myself a goal to complete a novel manuscript by the time I turn 30. It’s been a difficult challenge. I spent a year not really knowing what I wanted to write, and last year, personal and professional upheavals made it impossible to create a regular writing routine. I have roughly 75,000 words to write and less than 365 days in which to get those words onto the page. This year, I need to get serious about my writing and carve out dedicated time to get the work done.

Well, there you have it, my three step process for achieving my highest potential in the coming year. What are your resolutions and how do you keep yourself on track? Sound off in the comments!

— 30 —

Jonny Eberle is a writer in Tacoma, WA. His recent short story, How to Steal Copper Wire, was recently reprinted in Grit City Magazine, Volume Two. You can find him on Twitter or hanging around with literary types in seedy libraries.

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The First Ten Thousand Words

15 Thursday Feb 2018

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Lean-to on the beach. Astoria, OR. Photo copyright Jonny Eberle.

This year, I committed to writing a novel. This week, I crossed the ten thousand word mark. After months of working on my premise, dreaming about the plot, and writing dialogue in my head, it’s starting to feel real. So, I thought I would share how I’m feeling at various stages of the process.

The first ten thousand words of a novel are a wild thing. You don’t know if it’s friendly or dangerous, predator or prey, but you can feel it breathing and you know that’s alive and beautiful. No one else has ever seen it before — you are the first to lay eyes on it. It is yours and yet still untamed, belonging to no one but itself. You find yourself drawn to it. You need to understand it.

The first ten thousand words are the unwrapping of a package that’s secured with glue and tape and twine and layers of sturdy paper. Each layer reveals another layer you didn’t know existed and only slowly do you start to get glimpses beneath the brown paper at the glistening thing within. You want nothing more than to unwrap the whole thing now, but you know that it will be more rewarding to take your time and inspect each facet as it comes into view.

The first ten thousand words are the planting of a flag on a desolate shore. Passersby scoff at you, but they can only see the sand. They cannot see the possibilities. They cannot see the city that you will build here. They cannot imagine how something so great can start out so humbly. You build a home on the desolate shore. Someday, it will seem small, but not today. Today, it is a palace.

— 30 —

Jonny Eberle is a writer in Tacoma, WA. His latest short story, The Disappeared, appears in Creative Colloquy Vol. 4, which you can find at King’s Books in Tacoma. Follow him on Twitter and subscribe to his monthly newsletter for exclusive content and recommended reads.

The Birthday Resolutions Ride Again

09 Tuesday Jan 2018

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Approaching another year with caution, as one does. Photo by the incomparable Stephanie Eberle. Copyright 2017.

Resolutions are funny things. Every year, I make myself a series of promises and every year, I break most of those promises. And yet, I keep making resolutions on my birthday, because while I’m not good at fulfilling them, I still find value in the tradition — in aspiring to do better and be better each year.

This year, as I dive headlong into my late-20s, I’m making three resolutions and if I’m lucky, I may even keep them this time. Hope springs eternal.

1. Complete the first draft of my novel

Astute readers of this blog will probably recognize this one. Last year, I laid out an ambitious goal to write a novel by my 30th birthday. In my original plan, I was going to finish the first draft last year and, well, it didn’t quite work out that way. So, this year I’m going to attempt a new first draft, this time based on a different premise that I’ve been cooking up. With my self-imposed deadline looming, I’m giving myself until November to complete the draft (around 100,000 words). This is a monumental undertaking, but I’m excited about this idea and I’m determined to get it finished.

2. Learn to Accept My Limitations

As I get older, I like to think that I also get a little wiser and a little more humble. I used to think that I could do it all. It turns out I don’t have unlimited time, boundless energy and barrels of talent that I used to believe I possessed — and that’s okay. I have obligations that I must keep; relationships that I must nourish. I can’t follow every harebrained idea that pops into my head. This year, I want to continue to learn how to reel myself back in. Limitations are necessary and by respecting my own limits, I’ll have to be more discerning in my endeavors. From now on, I want to devote my resources to doing a few things exceptionally well, rather than taking on multitudes poorly.

3. Enjoy the Process

In writing and in life, I’ve noticed that I have a tendency to either dwell on the past or start imagining the future. I like spending time reflecting and dreaming, but I don’t want to be so distracted from where I am in the present. I’m writing a novel. I’m young and living in a vibrant, interesting city. These are the years to soak in my experiences and savor the details so that I can draw on them later. I cannot write about fictional lives without living my own life. I want to remember that this year and enjoy the process of accumulating stories.

What are your resolutions for this year? Let me know in the comments!

— 30 —

Jonny Eberle is a writer in Tacoma, WA. Today is his birthday. His latest short story, The Disappeared, appears in Creative Colloquy Vol. 4, which you can find at King’s Books in Tacoma. Follow him on Twitter and subscribe to his monthly newsletter for exclusive content and recommended reads.

Permission to Write Something That Sucks

25 Wednesday Oct 2017

Posted by in Procrastination, Rants, Writing

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Screenshot-2017-10-25 Bethany ( heartforhugs) • Instagram photos and videos

Photo by Bethany Popkes. She’s a good friend and an excellent portrait photographer. Find her on Instagram.

It’s been one month since I’ve looked at my novel draft. Despite setting myself a lofty goal of completing a first draft by the end of the year, I stalled out. As much as I would like (and have tried) to blame my characters or my word count goals or the ergonomics of my keyboard, I can’t.

I’ve been purposely avoiding it, worried that I’ll mess it up if I write another word. Several times this year, I considered throwing it all out and starting over. Starting is easy. But soon after those well thought-out, well-polished early chapters, the novel started to morph into something else and it wasn’t pretty. It was clunky.

This is hard for me. I’m a perfectionist. I don’t want to commit to paper words that I may have to scrap later. My instinct is to edit as I go — and it’s killing my novel. I can’t go on expecting amazing words to flow from my brain to my fingers. That expectation is suffocating my inspiration and strangling my productivity. Perfection requires iteration; it doesn’t happen on the first try and anyone who thinks so isn’t likely to be a success at writing novels.

So, I’m giving myself permission to write something that sucks.

I’m giving myself the go-ahead to write cheesy dialogue when necessary and sloppy exposition for the sake of continuing the story. Now is not the time to fuss over the language or to worry about continuity. Now is the time to write wildly. I’m going to completely alter my protagonist’s backstory and motivation mid-draft, and that’s okay. Logic is for second drafts.

For the next nine weeks, I’m giving myself carte blanche to do what it takes to finish this draft of my novel, because the alternative is not writing at all and that’s just not who I am. If you’re like me and stuck in perfectionism paralysis, I give you permission to write something that sucks, too.

— 30 —

Jonny Eberle is a writer, photographer, and filmmaker who is trying to be better about taking Anne Lamott’s tried and true advice. Follow me on the Twitter machine and subscribe to my monthly newsletter for exclusive content and recommended reads.

My Solo Writing Retreat to the Island of Inspiration

05 Sunday Feb 2017

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It was a dark winter’s night when I drove onto the ferry from Point Defiance to Tahlequah. I was off to nearby Vashon Island for a day-and-a-half solo writing retreat to start my novel. On the short trip from Tacoma to Vashon, I tried not to think too much about the enormous task I was about to undertake and instead focus on the surreal sight of the ferry dock disappearing into the mist.

It may only be a fifteen-minute ferry ride away, but Vashon feels far away and remote. In contrast to the cities surrounding it, it is home to only a few thousand people, spread out over a densely wooded area about the size of Manhattan. After I told her about my goal of finally finishing a novel over the next three years, my amazing spouse bought me two nights at an Airbnb for my birthday. So, I packed up my laptop, a few books on writing, and a bag of snacks and hoped inspiration would follow.

I have often found that I need to leave behind familiar spaces to start something new. Working at home, it’s easy to get distracted by thoughts of laundry that needs washing or what to make for dinner or a thousand other domestic considerations. Even though I was only a few miles away from my house, the process of packing up, of traveling, of arriving on an isolated island, sparked my subconscious to get to work.

I woke at daybreak (not a spectacular feat at these northern latitudes), made a cup of tea and setup my laptop. My retreat was a small Frank Lloyd Wright-style cabin with wood-paneled walls and a clean, modern aesthetic. A desk was built into a wall of windows overlooking Puget Sound to the north. Nearby, I discovered a turntable and a collection of LPs. I put on a Crosby, Stills and Nash album, gently lowered the needle onto the record to set it spinning and opened a new Word document.

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I’m not sure if it was the view, the curl of steam coming off my tea, the crackle of vinyl or the fact that my brain had been secretly preparing for this trip for three weeks, but for some reason, the words started flowing. I wrote twenty pages that day — my entire first chapter — which is far more productive than I’ve been in months. To be fair, I didn’t dream up the premise then and there. This is my fourth attempt (or is it the sixth?) at a novel idea I’ve been playing with for years. But this time, my fingers moved at the speed of my ideas and the ideas themselves were significantly better. I left on the twelve o’clock ferry the next day with a good start on my manuscript, a few pages of character notes, and a severely depleted snack bag.

Retreats are amazing like that. They give you uninterrupted time to focus and the time leading up to your departure gets the gears turning in advance so that you can be creative right out of the gate. But the retreat is not what’s important. What’s important is what happens after the retreat. One day of productivity and inspired writing does not a novel make. You have to sustain it the next day, the next week, and for months on end. The retreat is the beginning, but once you arrive back home and realize that the laundry still needs to be done, the challenge is keeping the momentum and not succumbing to the inertia of the everyday.

I’ve never managed to keep up that momentum after a solo retreat. It has always evaporated. But this year will be different. Because this year, I have a deadline. My retreat was only one day, but I have 328 more days until I need to have a completed first draft. The retreat is over, but the work is just starting.

— 30 —

Jonny Eberle is a writer in Tacoma, WA working on his first novel. You can get first dibs on excerpts from his novel-in-progress by subscribing to his monthly email newsletter. You can also follow him on Twitter. Thanks for reading!

Revenge of the Birthday Resolutions

09 Monday Jan 2017

Posted by in Rants, The Future, Writing

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Today is my birthday. And five years ago, it was also a day when I couldn’t think of anything to write about. My blog was just getting off the ground and I knew I needed to write about something to keep myself in the habit and grow my small audience. I was drawing a blank, so I decided to take a risk and talk about something more personal. For years, I’ve been making birthday resolutions instead of New Year’s resolutions and that year, I shared my resolutions with the blogosphere. Five years later, that first blog about how I wanted to grow and change is one of my most viewed posts.

Most of us make resolutions this time of year. We want to lose weight, cut back on the amount of time we spend on Facebook, put more money into our savings, but most of those resolutions are quickly abandoned.  It’s hard to change the course of a river once it’s found a course and human beings are no different, in my experience. Perhaps it’s no surprise that 88% of resolutions fail.

Historically, I have struggled to keep my resolutions (except for that one time when I resolved to move across the country — that one worked out), but I’ve found more success when I limit myself to one or two, put them down in writing and hold myself accountable by telling people what I’m trying to accomplish.

So, as I mark another year of wandering around this crazy world, I’m making one resolution. Just one. Possibly the most ambitious pledge to myself that I have ever made and the one that will have the most potential impact on my literary career. In light of that, I have also resolved to give it the time it deserves, by setting myself a three-year deadline.

Okay, enough build-up. Here it is:

I will complete a final draft of a novel by the time I am 30 years old.

I have tip-toed around writing a novel for the better part of a decade and have little to show for it. Half a dozen unfinished (read: barely started) novels are cluttering my hard drive, but I have never devoted the time necessary to seeing any one of them through to a final draft.

Writing a novel is big. Bigger than any writing project I’ve ever embarked upon. But I think that now is the time. I think I’m finally up to the task. I am fortune to have a loving spouse and a supportive web of friends and family to urge me onward. I’ll be documenting the ups and downs of the process from the initial idea to final draft right here — and I’m grateful to have you along for the ride.

The clock is ticking. Wish me luck.

 — 30 —

Jonny Eberle is a writer and soon-to-be novelist in Tacoma. You can find him on Twitter.

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A Bookish Getaway

22 Monday Feb 2016

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If you didn’t know me, you’d be inclined to think that the trip Stephanie and I took to the Oregon Coast last week was a disaster. I was sick the entire time. Our phones had limited reception. It was cold and windy. Fog obscured our view of the ocean. Rain poured. The road leading to our bed and breakfast washed out. For any reasonable person, it would be a wasted weekend. But not for me.

You see, on our way to the coast, we stopped at Third Street Books in McMinnville and each picked up a novel. I chose Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel and Stephanie selected All the Old Knives by Olen Steinhauer. So, when we got to our destination, felt the chill in our bones and heard the drumbeat of rain on the roof, we pulled out our books and dove in.

Not since our honeymoon have we had the time and unbroken solitude from civilization to truly get lost in an imagined world of words. Maybe it was the sound of the rain or the chilly weather, but we each tore through our books in less than two days. It reminded me of being a kid and burying myself in a good book for days on end. With all the distractions and responsibilities of adult life, it’s hard to find time to read for fun. It’s something I wish I made more time for — a rejuvenating practice that we would all be better for.

— 30 —

Jonny Eberle is a writer in Tacoma, WA. He and Stephanie are now reading each other’s book choices. You can find him on Twitter and join his mailing list.

My Greatest Competition

03 Thursday Dec 2015

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Almost a month ago, a set out to write 50,000 words as part of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). It’s a daunting challenge and not just because I’ve failed to reach my goal four years in a row. I have never written such a long piece of fiction in such a short period of time. It’s also intimidating because every year, I have to face the specter of my previous attempts. In a way, I’m competing with the four other versions of me who have embarked on this voyage of literary abandon.

November was a crazy month for me. Between family commitments, holidays and some long days at work, I’ve been extremely busy. Like most writers with some semblance of a social life and a full-time job that isn’t writing a novel, writing becomes harder and harder to squeeze in. Writing time is often cut back in favor of other activities, chores, sleep etc.

So, the week leading into Thanksgiving, I took a look at my word count and realized that there was no way I was going to reach my 50,000-word goal this year. Instead, I looked at my stats for the last four years. In 2011, a few short months after launching this blog, I wrote 15,621 words. In 2012, just 6,217. In 2013, I wrote 12,100. Last year, I cranked out 22,615 words. I decided that If I wasn’t going to crack 50K, I at least wanted to beat my personal best. I set a goal of reaching 30,000 words by the closing hours of November 30.

Sadly, I didn’t make 30K either. But I don’t view it as a complete failure. Over the course of 30 days, I wrote a grand total of 28,521 words — that equals 127 pages of very usable material going forward. And that’s what counts. If you take NaNoWriMo seriously, you don’t just write for those 30 wild days. You use it to form a foundation for your writing from December 1 to October 31. I think I accomplished that. I wrote 12 short story drafts during the last month. With edits and polishing, I think my collection stands a chance of getting published.

If that isn’t a victory, then at least I beat myself. And that’s oddly satisfying.

— 30 —

Jonny Eberle is a writer in Tacoma, WA. He just finished a month during which he attempted to write a complete novel. You can find him on Twitter.

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