A Writer's Notebook, Day Six-Hundred-And-Eighty-Nine

I decided, as I have been tending towards, to give myself more slack.  I am not, at the moment, counting my poems, but instead am just making the effort to write some, and to continue work on my fiction as well.  I did not write that many poems tonight, but I began work on a piece that has become quite long and involved, which is dealing with a great many serious issues that have been in my mind of late, some of which I have been attempting to write about but which have been difficult to get down in a way that feels right.  I think a part of this is the need to take a longer approach.  Many of these were ideas I felt could be the basis for a very good essay, or a group of essays, but I felt the need to embrace the potential of approaching a serious intellectual topic through poetry instead.  I think it is allowing me to feel a greater freedom, and even if the poem that results is not good, I think the act of sorting through and expressing ideas in this way is itself helpful and may well be a first step towards other manifestations of these ideas, whether in poetry or another form.

As well, I did continue work on my current short story, and I am finding it to be a quite enjoyable romp.  At the moment, it has taken an adventurous turn that surprised me, but seems appropriate and in character with the rest of the piece.  I recall writing certain details at an earlier point, a few days ago, and thinking that I was not sure about it, as it implied certain outcomes that I was not considering at that point, but the direction the story has taken seems to almost require that foreshadowing, and I am again not certain when or how the ideas have come together.  I read Del Close's Truth in Comedy years ago and was struck by the description he offers of how a long form  improvisational show will come together without any individual choosing to construct the connections or recognizing them at the time.  Of course, that was in the context of a group of performers, each one doing a bit of the work without consulting the others, but what happens in the end is that all the individual work weaves together into a whole, simply as a matter of the team working together and trusting that process.  I cannot help but feel a similar sense of wonder at how writing a story can often feel as if it is organized even when it is not planned in a conscious way, and I am certain I will always be amazed at the question of whether I am writing with an understanding of what is to come that is outside my awareness, or if the twists result from my mind working with what is already there to create what is next, or if it is a combination, or some other mechanism altogether.  It is astounding, and I take it as a good sign that the story is one that has a desire to be told.