January Snow
1/21/02
The snow seem to fall in two groups...one floats down as if it didn't care and was enjoying the float time... the other comes down straight and fast. It is aggressive and determined to reach the ground. Does it want to cause problems for man?
It is nearly 10 and I am awaiting the Pest control people. Ever since we moved to the South, we have paid for termite inspections each year. We have never had a problem with termites; but the year we discontinue the inspection will be the year we begin to hear strange noises in the night. scrunchy...scratchy... creaky noises. We will come home one day and find a room missing here or there. We will sit down at our dining room table and suddenly find we are having a picnic on the floor.
Is there a time in your life when you decide that Hey... I am not a genius... Hey... my legacy to my fellow man is not going to be very much. In fact instead of a 'leg'acy perhaps I should call it a 'finger'acy. I am most likely not going to write another "Shipping News" Since I have not been writing at all, it is unlikely that I will even write the best Instant Story ever. While these thoughts may seem depressing, the very fact that I am writing them down is helping me out of this little stint of feeling sorry for myself and getting me back on the main track of my life... the main goal of my life... to be happy.
I think I began writing because happiness had deteriorated into complacency. I began writing because I liked the idea of defining my identity as a writer. There is something romantic about the notion of writing. At the time I began writing, my job as management analyst had no such cache. People often ask you what you do as if this is what you are. Saying that I am a management analyst just didn't synch with my own idea of what I am. I have since taken a job as an asset manager which is probably less defined. When people ask what I do, I tell them I manage the managers of 10 apartment buildings but I am trying to be a writer.
"What have you written?"
I then have to explain about how you have to stuff a story into 250 words--character--action---beginning---middle---end.
"Have you written anything longer? Have you published?"
Alas I am at a loss.
I tell myself I will get serious about writing in 4 years when I can retire.
"I'll have the time." I tell myself
"Why wait four years? Do it now."
“I don't have the time. I don't have the talent." I argue with myself.
Do you think all writers are great writers when they first begin?"
"I haven't just begun. I've been writing for 5 years and what do I have to show for it-- 20s of points on Instant Stories"
"There is no excuse for giving it up. It will raise you out of complacency; give you a better definition of who and what you are."
"But...but I don't have a story to tell. My youth was not THAT traumatic. My mother was not THAT crazy... well maybe. But I have come to terms with that and don't want to blame my faults on nurture or nature."
"Make up a story. You have a great imagination and when you work at it, wonderful descriptions."
"I lack the ability to put together good dialogue. There is nothing more boring than too much description. "
"Study dialogue that you admire. What makes it work etc etc.
And so the argument goes back and forth
10:35 the pest control people are not here yet. Time to read... either A Beautiful Mind or Harry Potter...
Harry Potter--
2:15 at Borders... I have finally had enough cappuccino to get a free one. So I have a quadruple cup in front of me. I am wondering what will happen to my brain. Will it swell up until relief comes in the form of coffee spewing from my nostrils?
The lighting at my table is wonderful for seeing the words form on my pda. I am hoping that something magical will form of its own accord.
This place is packed. I am concentrating on what people are saying so that I can catch little snippets of conversation
A laugh... n uhhhh a big smile with a hand fluttering against the young girls chest...... are they talking about boys.
The snow seem to fall in two groups...one floats down as if it didn't care and was enjoying the float time... the other comes down straight and fast. It is aggressive and determined to reach the ground. Does it want to cause problems for man?
It is nearly 10 and I am awaiting the Pest control people. Ever since we moved to the South, we have paid for termite inspections each year. We have never had a problem with termites; but the year we discontinue the inspection will be the year we begin to hear strange noises in the night. scrunchy...scratchy... creaky noises. We will come home one day and find a room missing here or there. We will sit down at our dining room table and suddenly find we are having a picnic on the floor.
Is there a time in your life when you decide that Hey... I am not a genius... Hey... my legacy to my fellow man is not going to be very much. In fact instead of a 'leg'acy perhaps I should call it a 'finger'acy. I am most likely not going to write another "Shipping News" Since I have not been writing at all, it is unlikely that I will even write the best Instant Story ever. While these thoughts may seem depressing, the very fact that I am writing them down is helping me out of this little stint of feeling sorry for myself and getting me back on the main track of my life... the main goal of my life... to be happy.
I think I began writing because happiness had deteriorated into complacency. I began writing because I liked the idea of defining my identity as a writer. There is something romantic about the notion of writing. At the time I began writing, my job as management analyst had no such cache. People often ask you what you do as if this is what you are. Saying that I am a management analyst just didn't synch with my own idea of what I am. I have since taken a job as an asset manager which is probably less defined. When people ask what I do, I tell them I manage the managers of 10 apartment buildings but I am trying to be a writer.
"What have you written?"
I then have to explain about how you have to stuff a story into 250 words--character--action---beginning---middle---end.
"Have you written anything longer? Have you published?"
Alas I am at a loss.
I tell myself I will get serious about writing in 4 years when I can retire.
"I'll have the time." I tell myself
"Why wait four years? Do it now."
“I don't have the time. I don't have the talent." I argue with myself.
Do you think all writers are great writers when they first begin?"
"I haven't just begun. I've been writing for 5 years and what do I have to show for it-- 20s of points on Instant Stories"
"There is no excuse for giving it up. It will raise you out of complacency; give you a better definition of who and what you are."
"But...but I don't have a story to tell. My youth was not THAT traumatic. My mother was not THAT crazy... well maybe. But I have come to terms with that and don't want to blame my faults on nurture or nature."
"Make up a story. You have a great imagination and when you work at it, wonderful descriptions."
"I lack the ability to put together good dialogue. There is nothing more boring than too much description. "
"Study dialogue that you admire. What makes it work etc etc.
And so the argument goes back and forth
10:35 the pest control people are not here yet. Time to read... either A Beautiful Mind or Harry Potter...
Harry Potter--
2:15 at Borders... I have finally had enough cappuccino to get a free one. So I have a quadruple cup in front of me. I am wondering what will happen to my brain. Will it swell up until relief comes in the form of coffee spewing from my nostrils?
The lighting at my table is wonderful for seeing the words form on my pda. I am hoping that something magical will form of its own accord.
This place is packed. I am concentrating on what people are saying so that I can catch little snippets of conversation
A laugh... n uhhhh a big smile with a hand fluttering against the young girls chest...... are they talking about boys.
posted by Kajgreb | 5:38 PM
2 Comments:
What do you mean you can't write dialogue? I think you just did!
I enjoyed this so much. Maybe because I've had the same inner dialogue with myself. . . "I don't have the time, I don't have the talent, I just don't know --"
I've since learned that there's one thing that's essential to the writing life, to being a writer. No, not talent. No, not time.
It's Discipline. The discipline to sit at the computer and sweat out 500 words or 1000 words, or more a day. Every. Day.
By the way, love the image of snow. Especially since it's 80 and humid out right now!
Discipline is the key for sure. It is writing every day like Hemingway whether you are sick or hung over or don't have a thing to say. I don't have it, wish I did
but you know what they say about wishes.
Anyway I enjoyed reading about you lack of ---
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