I've decided to automatic schedule blogs to go up while I am working on the deadline to send Secret Graces to my publishers, and while I am in Oregon. That way, my blog still feels alive in case anyone stops by!
If I can get in and post and visit around during the deadline rush and my trip, then I can still do that. So, for the next several weeks off and on, I'll repost from the YOG (Year of Gratitude) blog . . .
There are days I rail against the way my brain works. Especially if I feel it is holding me back from something I want to do as I see others do it. Math is one of those things. Being in a crowd of people is another. My writing is yet one other way. I’d always thought about the writing process as just what it was: I sit down; I write; the story comes out. When asked for the plot, I never have a quick answer. For, it seems, I do not think in plots, but instead in abstracts—my characters are abstract, the time and place and circumstance is fuzzy and furry and at a distance. It makes for good fun to write this way, for I simply have a character nudge me (and I may only see that characters eyes, mouth, hair, and I may hear them say, “This is how it is…”) and off I go. Yet, in that abstract comes traditional stories about family and friends and place and belonging—nothing really all that original. The originality is in the cracks and crevices, in the wording perhaps, or between the between.
Where I am envious of other writers is the ability to see the bigger picture, the entire world—the plot, if you will. When I ask of my brain to bring forth the bigger picture, the plot, the whole story, my brain balks, my brain splinters, my brain gives me a kaleidoscope of images flashing past so quickly that I can’t grab hold of them but one little image at a time, and I write that image down and go from there. All in all, its easier for me to just let my brain do its thing, write the story as it comes, and hope for the best. But, what would happen, I ask myself often, if I could draw out plots, if I paired my pretty good writing with a pretty good plot, and Voila~! Best seller! Ah, but alas, the same way I cannot stare at a painting, then close my eyes and picture the image but in parts and pieces and color, is the same way I cannot see my work as a whole until it is completely written.
Today, however, I have decided to embrace my brain. To be grateful for it. Surely in its way of interpreting my world, in the way it perceives data and love and lives and images and words and thoughts has served me well enough. And perhaps there are trade-offs. Perhaps if I saw in completes instead of parts, I’d not see things in the way I do, and in not seeing them in the way I do, perhaps I’d be writing plots, and in those plots I would perhaps have not met the characters who have come to me in visions of eyes, mouth, and hair. Perhaps I’d be someone else. Then I would not be me. Well. Now. There you go.
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There are days I rail against the way my brain works. Especially if I feel it is holding me back from something I want to do as I see others do it. Math is one of those things. Being in a crowd of people is another. My writing is yet one other way. I’d always thought about the writing process as just what it was: I sit down; I write; the story comes out. When asked for the plot, I never have a quick answer. For, it seems, I do not think in plots, but instead in abstracts—my characters are abstract, the time and place and circumstance is fuzzy and furry and at a distance. It makes for good fun to write this way, for I simply have a character nudge me (and I may only see that characters eyes, mouth, hair, and I may hear them say, “This is how it is…”) and off I go. Yet, in that abstract comes traditional stories about family and friends and place and belonging—nothing really all that original. The originality is in the cracks and crevices, in the wording perhaps, or between the between.
Where I am envious of other writers is the ability to see the bigger picture, the entire world—the plot, if you will. When I ask of my brain to bring forth the bigger picture, the plot, the whole story, my brain balks, my brain splinters, my brain gives me a kaleidoscope of images flashing past so quickly that I can’t grab hold of them but one little image at a time, and I write that image down and go from there. All in all, its easier for me to just let my brain do its thing, write the story as it comes, and hope for the best. But, what would happen, I ask myself often, if I could draw out plots, if I paired my pretty good writing with a pretty good plot, and Voila~! Best seller! Ah, but alas, the same way I cannot stare at a painting, then close my eyes and picture the image but in parts and pieces and color, is the same way I cannot see my work as a whole until it is completely written.
Today, however, I have decided to embrace my brain. To be grateful for it. Surely in its way of interpreting my world, in the way it perceives data and love and lives and images and words and thoughts has served me well enough. And perhaps there are trade-offs. Perhaps if I saw in completes instead of parts, I’d not see things in the way I do, and in not seeing them in the way I do, perhaps I’d be writing plots, and in those plots I would perhaps have not met the characters who have come to me in visions of eyes, mouth, and hair. Perhaps I’d be someone else. Then I would not be me. Well. Now. There you go.
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PS - some thoughts and vibes or prayers or whatever you personally believe to go out to my son's paternal grandfather - he's in the hospital, had a stroke. Send him your thoughts if you don't mind, so he'll feel better.
google image from http://spacesuityoga.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/brain-763982-1.jpg
google image from http://spacesuityoga.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/brain-763982-1.jpg
11 comments:
Hey Kat...I'm playing blog catch-up today! I've been a dirty good for nothing blogger the past few weeks! :(
I don't get the BIG picture either. I sit down and let the muse take it word for word as she goes! :)
Love you girl! How's our Nora Kathryn? xoxo
So sorry for the Grandpa. Praying for God to touch him right where he is. Blessings! :O)
Prayer just said. Keep us updated, okay?
As for my brain, it keeps trying to escape and I have to stuff it back into my skull every so often. Or, at least, I think it was my brain I stuffed back in there this morning. Maybe it was the cat. If it meows, I'll let you know.
I don't mind, at all, if a blogger reposts an old entry, especially if the blog has been in existence for some time. When I sign up as a follower I don't usually have time to go back and read the archives. If the post is still relevant, I don't see why not.
At least the end product is a book!! That's more than I can say:)
we all have our own way to doing things, no two alike they say. that is what makes life so much fun!! whatever works for one may not work for the next person.
I think I have a fast-forward brain. It sees characters and plots from beginning to end in a flash. Once they're on my computer and I go back to edit/revise they may take new twists and turns, but usually not venture far from the original. Guess it's like seeing a movie trailer!!
Prayers going out.
I'm on Carol's page. Haven't been a good blogger as of late. Sending up intentions for the grandfather. Always nice checking in on your world!
You live in the time and space of your characters. I think it is why you are so good at seeing from their point of view even in a gesture a mood is translated. No need to figure it all out, keep letting them speak while you pour it out on pages for us to enjoy.
I will definately pray for your son's grandfather.
Quit picking on that brain of yours! It's beautiful and unique and just fine like it is. An artist's brain. (I don't do math either, and I'm glad.) :) Prayers for son's grandaddy. Love you
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