A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-And-Sixty-Four

As I had anticipated, the pressure of needing to get work done got me in gear, and I was able to get what I think is a pretty decent story done.  In truth, though I thought it was complete, I am going to return and add more, but that decision is being pushed by the nature of the project itself.  When I was first pushed to put more in, I was a bit reticent, to be honest, or at least, I was uncertain how to do it.  I was trying to think of how to continue on, which meant considering the ending I had already placed as a midpoint.  Now, the ending is not a major event or climax, it is more a summation, a reflection intended to express a perspective on what came before, it was when I stepped back from that ending that I saw the opening for a lot that I want to add to this piece.  It is funny how such an attachment to a piece of work can persist.  I like the ending I gave the story and feel it works for what is on the page right now, and I didn't really want to lose that end.  Even now, I have a part of me that wants to keep that ending, to just push it back and edit it to be appropriate to whatever new content is added.  It may be that works out, but the truth is, that idea is a sort of self-compromise, and is really intended, more, to open up the space for the new work.  I was blocking out the idea of changing this story, though I could find more in its world that seems important to include, and it comes down to my feelings about that final piece, so, by setting the issue of that last segment aside, I have freed myself to do the rest of the work.  If the result doesn't mesh with that piece, it is something I can worry about later, when I have a better sense of the story itself.  I fully expect that, by that time, I will have a clearer sense of how I really want it to end, whether it involves what exists already or something totally new, or even something in the middle.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Writer's Notebook, Day Two-Hundred-And-Fifty

Each of the three pieces I wrote today was a bit of a struggle to get going, if I am honest.  That happens, as I have mentioned, and my answer is generally to just wait it out, and the results vary.  A lot of the time, if I am really stuck, I might try to force something out, often it winds up being a bit meta, with me writing about being stuck without much in terms of inspiration, and it feels a bit like I am working scales in a way.  All the aesthetic decisions are there, they just don't always have a lot of purpose behind them, and that is fine in that context.  Essentially, I am just forcing myself to do the work, and getting it done, and I am showing myself that I can and will do it even if inspiration never strikes.  This can often take pressure off, and that lack of pressure opens up creative thinking and inspiration. Now, that is a fine thing for me to do, and I am likely to use that approach again many times in the future, but today I felt that I want...
Read more

Le Guin, Steering The Craft, Chapter Five: Adjectives and Adverbs (Exercise Five, Chastity)

A note of apology for my lateness with this.  I had expected to have time earlier in the day, but it was not to be, alas.  Anyhow, I am still a bit nervous about this exercise, though it is clearly of significant import to Le Guin, as she points out that it is the only exercise that she has given to all of her workshops.  That, of course, does not alter my feelings about it, excepting that I am aware of it as something valuable and worth doing, so the fact that it is a bit daunting might well be seen, through that light, as a promise of reward, perhaps.  The more difficult the task, the more one has to gain, at least by some logic... Exercise Five: Chastity Mr. Torino was in charge.  He had his way.  It was the way.  Desktops are clean.  Nothing but work.  No pictures: not your kids; not your girl or wife; not (as Allen recounted) your car.   None of that.  No plants.  No cartoons.  That is for home, this is work....
Read more

A Writer's Notebook, Two-Thousand-And-Fifty-Nine

I have been thinking about how I can discuss certain aspects of my poetry and the choices I make as a writer.  In particular, I tend to write without as much reliance on sensory details and descriptions, instead choosing more abstract depictions.  This is something that I know many writers would call an odd choice, as specificity seems inherently to demand the application of detail, but I tend to be a bit hesitant about relying on depictions that utilize the senses, as I find that approach somewhat problematic.  For one thing, sensory description is always going to be less than universal, and not only because of the reality that there are individuals who lack one or more sense.  In many ways, for me, the deeper problem is one related to language itself.  Our use of language creates our experiences in a very real way, though I can't necessarily offer a full explanation of what I mean by that right here, but using a word for an object bestows qualities on it....
Read more