ONE OF THE BEST WRITING TIPS EVER: SPIN CLASS!

Two of the most common questions people ask writers are: 1) When do you write? And 2) What do you do if you get writer's block?
When I see these questions headed my way – whether from a friend, a student, a book club member, or a radio talk show host – I freeze like a possum crossing in front of a bicycle. That's because my answers are so unsatisfying to most people:
1)I hardly ever write, but I'm always writing, and
2)I don't get writer's block. Ever.
Yeah, I know what you're thinking: What the hell? What kind of writer doesn't have writer's block! Maybe you're even rolling your eyes like a dismissive teen in Algebra class. But both answers are true.
Here's my current secret weapon against low creativity libido: Spin class. You know, that's the class where you furiously pedal a stationary bike to nowhere in an ominously dark room, while an anemic looking instructor shouts orders over thumping techno pop music. “Sprint!” “Climb another hill!” “Break away!”
I never thought I'd take one of these classes, because who doesn't look stupid in padded bike shorts indoors? Then I discovered that I can solve any thorny writing problem in Spin class. Just this morning, I was pedaling hard to pass that old guy with the big calves in front of me – funny how I never can catch him – when I suddenly thought of a way the killer in the novel I'm writing could lure the protagonist into his car. Bingo! I nearly fell off the bike, it was such a brilliant idea! (I won't take time to explain it here. Let's just say that it involved a snake in the basement.)
I don't know if it's the rush of adrenalin that causes ideas to come when I'm exercising, but if I'm sweating, I'm writing. Jogging, gardening, moving furniture, you name it. Even a walk loosens up the words locked in the crammed, disorganized closet of my brain. I take my dogs hiking most mornings after dropping my youngest child off at school. My usual spot is a Conservation area with winding paths through marshes and woods. At one point, there's a terrific view of the river (where I often imagine bodies being dumped.)
There's just one trail that I can't follow anymore, because it passes a sculpted tree with colorful green and yellow lichen on its peeling gray bark. I once hiked past that tree and imagined a spirit woman stepping out of it, her hair flowing right out of the bark, to block my protagonist's path as she went walking. Now, Voila! I'm terrified of that tree. But it's a great plot point in my novel.
Sex serves nicely as creative exercise, too. I keep a journal on my bedside table. My husband has learned not to ask what I'm doing, as I roll out from under him and scrabble around for a pen so that I can jot down a new bit of dialogue that appears like a ticker-tape announcement in Times Square as we're getting busy.
This all might sound flaky – I am a writer, after all – but the truth is that even scientists have linked creativity to exercise. Some research suggests that you can experience a boost in brain power for up to two hours after just half an hour of exercise, no matter what the exercise is (http://www.newsweek.com/2010/07/12/forget-brainstorming.html) Check out Dr. David Blanchette's studies on the link between aerobic exercise and creativity at Rhode Island College (http://www.ric.edu/faculty/dblanchette/ExerciseArticle.htm), or a study published in the British Journal of Sports Medicine (http://bjsm.bmj.com/content/31/3/240.abstract).
Better yet, print out articles about creativity and exercise to read while you're running on the treadmill. Then sit down to write. You might be surprised by how fast new ideas pour out of your pen.

HOW GLEE IS CHANGING THE WORLD, ONE 12 YEAR-OLD AT A TIME

I've been following a couple of stories lately. One is about the Massachusetts Catholic school that recently accepted, then rejected an 8 year-old boy because his parents are lesbians (http://www.boston.com/yourtown/hingham/articles/2010/05). The other is that juicy media firefight sparked by “Straight Jacket,” the Newsweek story (http://www.newsweek.com/id/236999) questioning why heterosexual actors seem to play gay characters in films and on television, but gay actors can't return the favor (http://www.newsweek.com/id/236999). Part of that particular story focuses on the openly gay Broadway actor Jonathan Groff, who plays new heartthrob Jesse St. James on the television show Glee (http://www.fox.com/glee).
Glee is where the real story is, folks. With singing gay football players, Down Syndrome cheerleaders and dancing wheelchairs, Glee is changing the world, one 12 year-old at a time.
We're not an especially conservative family. I could use that “some of my best friends are gay” line without a blink. Our kids all have friends with gay parents. We live, after all, in Massachusetts, where you can't throw a pebble over your shoulder without bruising a liberal forehead.
Even here in gay-friendly Massachusetts, however, we have a long way to go. Kids still fling around “fag” and “queer” as insults at the high school. There is a valid fear that the same-sex marriage law will be repealed here as it was in Maine. That's why I'm so glad to watch Glee with my 12 year-old. Or rather, so pleased to be in the living room with him as he is prompted to talk about the different characters and issues paraded before us on Glee in ways he never could if it were just Mom lecturing him about acceptance.
Gays abound in Glee. The lead, Rachel, has two gay dads. That quicksilver actress Jane Lynch, who is openly gay in real life, plays Sue Sylvester, that sadistic sort of lesbian coach all of us had at one time or another. Santana, the most conniving Cheerio, gets it on with Brittany, the dumb blond Cheerio, usually in a 3-way, who originated the line, “Did you know dolphins are just gay sharks?”
In fact, the most powerful story line in Glee follows scene-stealing Kurt, the openly gay fashionista played by Chris Colfer. When Kurt first came out to his dad Burt, played by Boston comic Mike O'Malley as a rugged, macho tire salesman, I fully expected the stereotypical showdown. After all, when Quinn (who headed up the Celibacy Club) got knocked up, there was no surprise: Her parents promptly threw her out of the house. Yawn.
But no, no Nanette! Instead, what we got on Glee was something very, very new: a father who accepts his gay son. “I care about you very much, which is the important thing,” he says, “and I'm glad you had the courage to tell me.”
Glee viewers are currently treated to a more nuanced struggle, as Kurt and his dad try to connect now that the truth is out and so is Kurt. There are other questions, too: Will Kurt find a boyfriend? Will Kurt's dad marry Flynn's mom? Who knows? Who really cares?
What matters is that my 12 year-old son – and lots of other kids – watch Glee. They might not want to talk to their parents about acceptance and tolerance, and they might scoff at all of this new anti-bully legislation being touted by their schools. But, when something is on the news like a kid being banned from a Catholic school because his moms are gay, my son and his friends are truly puzzled. They can't imagine why. As they see it, if you're gay, you're gay. If you're not, you're not. What matters is that you're human, you try to be a good person, and you try to love your friends, your family, and – by extension – everyone around you.
A lesson learned from Glee, it's cause for song and dance.