It's a strange night. The wind is picking up. A cold front is moving in. Winter is about to hit us hard. I always feel different when the weather changes. I've read that it's the negative ions in the air, that the wind picks up a charge from the interaction of particles between the sky and the ground.
When these times come, I always feel restless. I look around my life and wonder about wandering away. Sometimes I'm filled with energy. Other times I sink into a quiet but watchful state. Sometimes I write.
I rarely work on books or long projects. Instead I wander around in my writing. Just placing thoughts on paper whatever they may be. No editing. No thought. Just aimless. Most times I don't write anything worth keeping. Other times, I stumble onto an idea or a twist on another idea. These can be useful, particularly if I've been wrestling with a writing problem. Or I file them away later.
Many times questions pop up. Ones for which I don't have the answers, but that might interest me enough to pursue later. Like, how would a modern priest really react to a vampire? Or how do you atone for taking an innocent life? Or is love possible between two damaged people who've stopped believing in it? How would we react to an alien race that was more advanced than us and insists on bringing us their view of God before they'll let us off this planet? How far do you have to push a man before he breaks? What really goes on at Area 51?
I answer those questions in scenes, and from those scenes, a play or book or poem is created. So now you know how I get my ideas. Good night!
4 comments:
Poor little post. It's not your fault you don't have any comments. It's because I'm writing about writing. I've discovered those posts -- for the most part -- get the fewest comments. I guess I don't have a lot of writers who read this blog. But it still helps me to write about writing. To set down clearly -- or as clearly as I'm able -- what it means to me and how I approach writing problems is good for my growth as a writer.
Although I don't write other than few poems once in a blue moon, I do enjoy reading about your writing struggles. I learn alot about creative people from your posts and attempt to apply that creativity to areas in my life.
Actually, I read your post this morning. And I didnt' comment because you made me all thoughtful and contemplative. Especially the one about love. But that always confuses me. I think I lost a few pieces the last time... It just doesn't work right anymore.
Sometimes, I just don't know what to say. But it it doesn't mean it (your words) isn't as important, or meaningful. :) Sometimes, more so.
Thank you, Gloria.
Amber ... humph!
Good to know, Michelle. Thanks for being a faithful reader.
FF, ditto what I said to Michelle to you. :)
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