When the paper appears...
Sometimes I wonder...
Why I can write, and then I can't write.
My novelist eye goes into overdrive anytime, anywhere. I once wrote pages of summer at my home -- in my head on my drive home from work. But I will open the notebook, find a scrap of paper, a blank computer screen and those thoughts go skittering from my mind in every direction, tossing me like a broken toy and I curse that muse.
How did I get such a crap-tacular muse? She's only there when the paper isn't in view. Maybe I could finish something more than a short ten page story if she didn't abandon me so.
But at least my mind is filled with my words, my imagery. If I could, I would share my mind to anyone who was willing to look inside. Another downfall. I can't. I stutter and stammer, and those imageries, those adjectives, those nouns, those perfectly structured sentences swell around me in mad crescendo until I can barely think, much less let those words flow between warped lips, over a shuddering tongue. I can't even talk normally without a tiny stutter, a shake of my head and rewording of sentences constantly coming out of me. Not word vomit, no. Everyday speech. And if you saw the way I wrote and typed, you'd see why. I'm always looking back over my work, over a sentence, adding here, tucking in there. It's a damn shame, and I do that even to my own speech. I'm just fucked.
I'm going to try here. Try to let those words out and in the open. Not the everyday stuff. The good stuff, the summer at home, the simple love for the sight of rippling cornstalks in the late afternoon light, the the....
...it's gone again. So close, so close... and she's fled.
posted by Lady Scribe at 11:48 PM
3 Comments:
Personally, I can't seem to write unless it's around one of the little beasts I call a character.. It's all got to tie together somehow. Maybe try outlines, that works for me... Or, at least, it kind of does. I always get a plot down and I know what I want to write... and then I get bored with it. Whereas, if I just start writing with no idea where the story's going to go, I love it.
...I think Richard Bach said it best when he said "I don't like writing at all." He's right- it's not the writing that's loved, it's the story... And if it weren't for the story, I'd never bother with the damned writing. :D
Forget papers, forget computers.
Thrive on your imagination, carry stick-it-notes around with you for something other than sticking them on your head and claiming your allegiance to worst man in history!
....beautifully written...I look forward to reading more of your posts!
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