Winter quiets a forest. The birds are gone or hiding and the dogs stay home. But the wind groans and trees whine as they struggle beneath their growing load of snow. Like those trees, many writers carry emotional burdens that threaten to bend and break them. But great authors, like Nobel laureate Kenzaburo Oe, transform the injuries of life into their best work.

Through writing about survivors of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, Oe came face to face with people who had lived through unimaginable disaster. Photos of the bombing victims are some of the most gruesome I've ever seen. Years ago, after visiting the Hiroshima Museum, I could barely think. Although Oe was able to write about these war atrocities, he continued to run away from the disaster that had scarred his own life. He only matured as a writer and father, when he found the courage to write about his brain-damaged son, instead of fleeing away "from the deformed child".

Often we flee from the deformed or wounded children within and around us. We are afraid that going back to life's most painful moments will overwhelm us, capsizing the fragile boats in which we navigate the rapids of life. The truth is that revisiting trauma is the surest way to undo its spell. What doesn't break you the first time, will not destroy you the second. Revisiting trauma helps you to appreciate your own power to withstand adversity. And it is an excellent strategy for becoming a better writer.

Inspired by Scribes

Some writers are as famous for their connections with other artists as they are for their own work. Even if you couldn’t finish “The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas”, you might still admire Gertrude Stein for the salons she held with creative masters like Picasso and Hemingway. Conversations with other writers often help me refine story ideas and find fuel for solitary hours of writing. When last week’s snow nearly undid my plans to meet with other writers in New York, my Pocono life felt drained of inspiration. Fortunately, the snow drifts could not keep me out of Manhattan.

Talking with other writers reminded me that there are as many paths to a writing career as there are to happiness. Sara Neufeld, for example, spent years writing for the Baltimore Sun before widespread layoffs at big city newspapers made her consider other options. She left the Sun voluntarily and now writes for an education institute. At Caroline’s Comedy Club, I talked with Jeff Kreisler, and other comedy writers who make their living writing jokes, plays, TV skits, books, and stand-up routines. These talented people know that writing for different venues helps them create a broad platform and reach a wider audience. It’s also the best way to maintain some kind of financial stability. The issue of financial stability is really important to writer Joe Paretta. He just published a book on cutting credit card debt. To balance his own budget, he also teaches writing classes at two local colleges while working on his own books.

It was energizing to talk with so many resourceful members of a profession that offers little career guidance. Before I drove back to the woods, I even found some old school writing advice at the New York Public Library exhibit on ancient sacred texts. In addition to a large display of ornate sacred books from early Jewish, Christian and Muslim faiths, the exhibit had a scriptorium where you could play with writing tools like swan feather quill pens. Two excellent quotes were painted on the scriptorium wall. One came from the Prophet Muhammad who said, “The first significant thing that God created was the pen. And he said, “Flow”, and it flows with whatever it is, until the day of resurrection.” The second news flash was offered by Cennino Cennini, a scribe who lived from 1370-1440 A.D. He said, “To enter the profession, begin with decking yourself with this attire: Enthusiasm, Reverence, Obedience, and Constancy.” Somehow his words still seem relevant to writing in the age of blogs.

Solitude on Ice

On Friday night the temperature dropped to 9 degrees Farenheit. Yet Saturday morning, there were two chairs sitting in the middle of Henning Pond. Someone had shoveled a path from the edge to the center so they could carry their chair, a saw, and a tackle box across the ice. These fishermen could easily buy trout in the local supermarket so it’s not fish they’re craving. They’re chasing that elusive ingredient sought by writers everywhere: solitude.

Once the holiday season ends and the strings of lights come down, social activity seems to evaporate fast. But December’s parties and visits can keep our minds tangled in the endless connections that bind us to other people. It’s hard to clear some mental space and begin writing again. Who wants to stop eating and dancing, just to sit alone on the banks of an empty page? Still, a stroll back to the cave of solitude promotes good writing.

Solitude doesn't just mean toiling in silence. Writers just need some time in an environment that highlights news reports from the unconscious. Too often the noise of the world drowns out the voice of originality. Each writer’s mind is a finicky chef working from a unique creative recipe. Stephen King writes to the music of AC/DC and Metallica. Michael Chabon writes in coffee shops. For me, a quiet spot and a good smell are essential. Espresso fumes, candles, or soup work well. A nice view is a plus.

January is the perfect time to write. Snow lowers the world’s static. Even in warm climates, the start of a new year is energizing. I truly understand why those fishermen sit out there on the pond. Winter walks get my creative juices flowing. But no matter how much the fish are biting, I would never, ever want to write on ice.

January Idea Factory

A writer's productivity is fueled by many factors. People, noise, silence, smells... and weather -- ah weather! The cold, snowy weeks of early January are often my best period for writing. When storms push you indoors, thoughts retreat and huddle. Then the wind rocks the door frame, and unseen forces try to barge in. Characters are born and plot points sneak up, rattling the windows.

Outside, the whole landscape has changed. Snow and clouds cast the forest in a new palette. The blacks, whites, and grays suggest old movies, still photos. Imagination wants to play. For me, January is one big idea factory conjuring stories I can work on all year.

Many of my favorite authors are people who whipped weather and climate into the texture of their stories. Although Isak Dinesen gained fame for writing about Africa, I prefer her tales set in Denmark. She captures the mysteries of winter in a way that captivates fireside dreamers like me. Here, warm yourself with one of her paragraphs:

" 'Wait,' he said. 'I shall light a dip. I myself most often sit in the dark. But I shall light a dip for you tonight.'

She kept standing on the threshold while he raked the ashes from the embers in the fireplace, blew on them and lighted a tallow dip by a shaving.

'Come closer to the fire,' he said slowly and hoarsely, pointing to the only chair of the room. She, however, would not take her host's seat, but pulled a wooden stool up to the fireplace. The old man took down a heavy key from a nail and locked the door."

Then what?

Meeting the Freelance Challenge -- Staying Alive in 2010

The freelance life has a way of miring writers in an eternal present. Upcoming deadlines require total focus and last week's writing is like dew on the grass -- forgotten by noon. Change in the publishing and newspaper industries can have the same effect on writing careers, drying them up in a flash. With so many casualties among print publications, a writer needs luck and flexibility to survive.

Staying solvent in 2010 meant working with a wide range of people and publications. As the year ends/begins, I can't resist mentioning some of those projects and a few special people who helped make this a great writing year.

Last January I was editing a mystery novel when I got a call from a lawyer working with the Innocence Project of PA. The group works on cases for prison inmates whose innocence can now be proved with DNA testing. I had to do a lot of research about the field before I could write for them, but it was a great learning experience. In the end, they valued my work -- no writer could ask for more.

February found me hanging out on Tuesday nights with Liberties Scribblers, my regular gang of writers. It's impossible to overestimate the value of a great writing group that keeps its members inspired through the long, snowy winter.

As Spring approached, my focus moved back to a group of regular clients who run youth programs in Philly, Baltimore, and Latino communities across the country. The leaders of these organizations are exceptional people and I'm lucky to be working with them. One of them is Breezy Bishop, a national Hall of Fame basketball coach who once helped a team win a silver Olympic medal. This fall she turned 75, an incredible person.

In April I started working with Gotham Ghostwriters in New York. My projects for them drew me back to the world of education and charter schools. For this work I had to study up on charters in California. That work kept me busy through May. Then June brought an amazing assignment to write about methadone treatment for heroin addictions -- another field where I was a total novice. I really enjoyed working on the project and learned plenty from hardworking experts in a challenging field.

In late summer I taught writing workshops for the Nano Bio Technology Center at the University of Pennsylvania. This is always an amazing experience because I get to meet brilliant, smartypants students doing research on the tiniest matter yet known -- we're talking nano-particles! Editing their papers is like seizing controls on the Starship.

Fall was memorable because I went to the Toronto International Film Festival where I interviewed directors from Spain and Egypt and even got a chance to meet the incredible Danny Boyle. I also met some producers of favorite films including Josh Astrachan who's worked with film master Robert Altman and Garrison Keillor (an idol, a King!)Now there's just ONE degree of separation between Garrison and me!

As winter approached, I did some writing about small town heroes at the local fire station, and care for the homeless and elderly in Philadelphia. This work reminded me of the many volunteers in this world who care for those without a safety net. Hats off to John Randolph, Sister Rose, Maris Krasnegor, Ron Hinton, Bruce Berger and many others who pick up where our blind leaders leave off.

The year ended on a note of joy and exhaustion after trips to celebrate with writing colleagues in New York and family members across Pennsylvania. I'm grateful for every moment and every project and look forward to new writing adventures in 2011.