Monthly Archives: December 2009

Where Time has Little Meaning

SoulI’ve always been a spiritual person. I meditate daily; about life and the Universe, which I ultimately worship. Writing, however, is its own type of meditation, where time and place make little sense. I remember being able to start a particular album or movie and sit and write, not paying attention to any of my other senses. When it got very good, I could write twenty or thirty pages worth of writing in a few hours.

I was lost in my own mind, in my hall of windows, if you will, and simply streaming out of my fingertips what I had been seeing within them. Read More »

Candles in the Dark

CandlesWriting evil characters has always been a passion of mine. In my not-so-humble opinion, the most boring enemies are the ones that are portrayed as evil for no other reason than to be evil. There is no urgency or sense of purpose with an enemy that is essentially just doing things for no discernible reason. I also don’t consider mental illness, in and of itself, a valid reason for doing anything, and I get frustrated with stories built around someone doing something because of whatever chemical balance they might have. It is unimaginative.

Everyone has a motivation for what they do. The only difference between a “good guy” and a “bad guy” is what side of that motivation “line” they fall on. Read More »

The Fire

Fire3“Fire your creativity” or “fire your imagination” or any other use of “fire” always strikes me as deliciously ironic in its accuracy. My muse has always been as far for me. Fire breathes, eats, procreates, thinks, kills, fights for survival; in so many ways, it seems to be alive. It’s a classical element for a reason, after all. However, I am also very much a creature of fire, so I find it equally the “source” of the brilliance of writing and the destruction of it. Fire is the best metaphor I have to writing.

In the “camp site” of our lives, the nights get dark and lonely, and our ancient, primal souls yearn for fire. Read More »

The Writer’s Journey

TowerThis post is somewhat of a review of sorts, and is also a bit of a “spoiler” to the Dark Tower series by Stephen King. In that regard, I’m going to hide it so that you know not to look if you haven’t read the series and plan to.

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The Lost Battles

DefeatThere comes a point in every long pursuit where the hunter must ask if she still remembers the reason the hunt began. It can be the same thing with writing. There comes a point when you’ve “hunted” that story for so long that it turns you into Ahab. In my opinion, there are few writers that struggle with that hunt successfully. For those that do succeed, some make the process look effortless. An example of this would be J. R. R. Tolkien. For a work like The Dark Tower series, the length of time it took to get from the first novel to the final illustrates an author who never gave up the long pursuit and saw the hunt to the bitter end, for better or worse.

I have my own “white whale”, my own prey of this nature. Read More »

Artistic Torment

StocksRecently, my mother handed me a box of school photos from grade school. There was a lot of nostalgia and a LOT of cringing. When I was a little girl, they didn’t really have realistically-priced thinning for glasses, so my frames had to be huge and my lenses thick. Also, my mom always picked out my clothes for picture day. My sister has, likewise, cringed when she looks at pictures of herself from high school, now dated by the fashion of the 1980s. Is it just the dated fashion foibles of our youth that we shy away from, or is something else?

As I’ve kept a journal for nearing eight years, I’ve certainly found myself looking back at some event and shaking my head in disgust or pity. When I see, for example, myself giddy about a friend who would later do something to completely lose my trust, I think about what a little fool I was for trusting someone with so many obvious signs of disaster looming. That’s the pain and price of hindsight.

There is a certain torture in looking back on old (and even not-so-old) writing. Read More »

The “Sound” of Writing

TypewriterWhile music is a major inspiration of my writing, simple sounds are as well. I can remember many times when I lived in the middle of a wide stretch of farmland that the sound of a winter storm whistling or summer thunder and rain would wake me. For hours later, I would lie in bed listening and composing stories in my head, some of which actually got written down later. Sometimes, the lure of imagination would make me get out of bed and write down the ideas right away. However, more often than not, I would be lulled to sleep in a cradle of characters and plot that lead me straight into my dreams.

The sound of the instruments I use is also a large factor. Read More »

About Writing

WindowsSome call writing a gift. It is a curse. We all see the world individually. For the writer, the world within our minds is a hall of windows. We all see so many different worlds. What’s even worse; we are driven by the solitary need to share the view out our windows with the rest of the world.

Perhaps it is that we see an aching beauty that hurts to keep to ourselves. Perhaps it is that we are so scared by what we see, we don’t want to see it alone. It could just be that we are vain and pretentious and need to share our vision with everyone else. Whatever the motivation, writers don’t have to write, we need to write.

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