valis2 | Writing epiphanies

So while I was in Wisconsin I was reading a collection of essays called Writers on Writing. There were a lot of well-known and respected names, and a lot of advice, and a lot of interesting approaches to writing about writing, as one would expect.

But there was one essay that really stood out for me, personally.

You see, I have this theory about writing, that it is as individual as writers are. We love to write about writing, but there's only one thing I've learned about writing, which is that everyone does it differently, and thus a lot of this advice is of the Your Mileage May Vary school.

There are a few pieces of advice that I have seen fairly consistently. One, for example, is the Consistent Output advice. The main component is either to a) be at your writing desk at a consistent time each day, and/or b) write a certain number of words (I have seen more than a few mentions of 1000) per day. The thing is, IMO, this all depends on the kind of person you are and the kind of writer you are. Even on the kind of mood you're in.

For example, the very thought of just sitting and writing 1000 words of...well, nonsense, stuff without a plan--makes me break out in hives. My brain thinks, what a waste. I can't imagine that writing 1000 words of total crap each day would help in any way. However, like I said before, writers are such individual creatures that I am certain there are many who would benefit from this or at least enjoy it immensely. I'm not one of them.

"For Authors, Fragile Ideas Need Loving Every Day," by Walter Mosley was the first writing advice essay that really seemed to speak directly to me. Unfortunately, I left the book in WI, so I don't have any exact quotes, but the premise was that when you create a story, you create a space in your head for it to dwell in, a special place where you can nurture and grow the story.

This concept appeals to me greatly. As I've talked about in previous writing entries, I'm often daydreaming about different places and people, even as I'm working on data entry documents or sorting merchandise. I jump into this space often and splash around. Sometimes an image just pops into my head, something wordless but intriguing.

Mosley talks about this space and how fragile it is. He takes the concept of writing a certain number of words or consistently sitting down at a desk and instead transforms it into something else--he maintains that you have to get into the story, touch base with it, at least once every twenty-four hours or it might wither away. I'm paraphrasing terribly here, but he basically points out that when you start a story, you're in that space, and if you think about it the next day, you can reenter that space relatively quickly because you're still so near. The longer you go without touching it, the more difficult it will be to recapture it, and you might lose whole portions. Even with notes, the space will eventually drift away if it isn't written.

I felt such a sense of delight after I read his essay, because this is very much how I am and how I write. Last week I wrote every single night, and I was able to seamlessly dip right back into the story after each absence. During the day I'd think of new parts for the story, or how to write certain scenes (basically, I was dwelling in the space here and there), and when I got to my computer it would flow right out of my fingertips.

This week I haven't had time to write at all. And because I did spend time in that space, I did have some bits and bobs of plot, but I didn't write them down, and I didn't have that marker to take me back to the subspace where these bits and bobs were. I might remember some of them during the writing, but I think most of them are gone now. I need to dwell in the space, and dwelling in the space brings me to writing more words. The word limit isn't necessary; when they're there, they're there, and they come out as I think, fully formed and narrated in my head by the near-constant Narration Monster who lurks there.

So what I've brought away from this is that it's good to dwell in the space each day. If I don't, the story suffers. However, the other important lesson is that if I don't jot down a few notes, I will not remember the space, and that lovely feeling and set of thoughts will disappear. If I take notes, it really does help because even just a few words can often point me back to that feeling.

Again I find nothing but puzzlement for the advice about writing at least 1000 words per day; if they are not of value, then they are not helpful to me. I know, practice makes perfect, but I'd rather practice with actual pieces than with disconnected scribblings. Other people might mine these words for something valuable, but I think I'm going to try to keep in contact with the fragile story-space and make certain I take better notes. *nodnod*

Your mileage may vary.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

vampireanneke.livejournal.com

Interesting. I have little problem with jumping back into a story. My problem is making sure I didn't already write the same thing earlier in the story. And keeping track of what day of the week the part of the story I'm writing is set at, because for some reason I tend to write very day by day in the story. I cringe when I have to jump days in a storyline.

From:

Bornino

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