A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-One-Hundred-And-Eighteen

I wish I had some degree of confidence in the directions I want to go with my work right now.  That is, I am filled with ideas, often, with thoughts for what I might create, and I believe in those ideas on an artistic level, but I also realize I need to find some kind of fulfillment in terms of getting the work out there, in terms of building an audience and a career that feels more significant to me.  I am not wanting to be a commercial writer, to throw away my ambitions for the work, but I have plenty of different thoughts in mind and I want to choose something to pursue that has potential to bring that together.  I know I won't be satisfied with just creating the work, and I also know I would not be happy just having success with writing that didn't actual mean anything to me, but that does not mean that their are not considerations in both directions that are worthwhile.  The play that I am working on brings this up for me, because I know the theater that it is for and have some idea of the various things that they might be looking for in a script.  I know the types of plays that are often performed there, and I know there intent as a company, and if I weren't to think of those things, it would be a waste to even submit work.  Still, it has to be work I want to create as well.  I just know that I need to find a way to do better than I have been in terms of my results, because the way things are right now is detrimental to my well-being.  I have to do something to change this, to change how it is in the world and not just to pretend it is different by some mental gymnastics.  Accepting how things is not something I can do, is a form, for me, of failure and abject defeat.  As well, I know that quitting would be extremely self-destructive.  That does not leave any real options, I know, so I continue on as I have been, though it is destroying me.  If the external situation remains the same, it is no good.  I know that much.  Any solution must be one that recognize that as reality and offers practical steps towards making real and measurable change now.  I am sure I will be told it is not possible, that it does not exist and I should stop looking for those answers.   I have been told this before.  I do not know what to do, because if that is the truth, it is the same as my being told I am already doomed.  There is no alternative.

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