Writing is Like Breathing
Writing is like breathing.
In life, there is so much that occurs. There are the Everydays. On Everydays, we do mundane, amazing things like rise from another night of seemingly endless stupor, peaceful or restless or both. Rush through mornings just to get to work/school on time. School work buzzes before our bleary eyes for the next couple hours or so, perhaps your crazy students do something absolutely profound or even pathetically stupid, even for their young age, that stuns you. Before you know it, though, its all over, all achieved, this manic machine we call employment.
Everdays, unfortunately, don't end with work. Upon the close of that final dreadful hour, thoughts of home stream before your eyes like your favorite YouTube video. And yet, regret is the last thing on your mind, for whether you're trapped in the domicile of your grandsires or have built for yourself an incredible home with an incredible spouse, incredible children and the so-stupid-they're-adorable animals rushing in and out of your doors, the feeling is unforgettable. That feeling of comfort, joy, ecstasy, and exhaustion.
Yes, Everydays are tiring. But oh the beauty they represent in their constancy.
Past Everydays, there are the Special Days. These we all know and can name offhand. Anniversaries, Weddings, First Day of School, Graduation, Baptisms, Publication Release Dates, Birthdays, etc. According to priority these events are duly sorted, sometimes excitedly, sometimes chagrinningly. But who can forget the Special Days? Who would yearn to? Are they not as vital to humanity and the experience we all lead as the very breathe coursing through our lungs?
Ah, the Special Days.
Special Days ring bells of harmony loudly throughout our existence, but they aren't the greatest days. Nay, it is E.R. Days that take the cake. E.R. as in "Epiphone" and "Revelation", not "Emergency Room." These days could also be called Days of Change, for this is what occurs on E.R. Days. These are the days we blog of things most important, when Facebook friends are tagged in Notes containing poetry and song, and when novels are either written or read that delve us into worlds not our own, and yet relative to us in some precious and vibrant way. Life changes, views are questioned, God is either stronger or weaker than before, but something must fill the Void, yes... some... vital... thing.
Everydays reflect life, Special Days remember it--E.R. Days define life.
As a writer, a novelist, and a future journalist I find that these days that fill up each and every year I live and have lived are what inform my novels. Be they fantasy, romance, children's, or teen, my novels couldn't breathe without these various exploits and experiences. The music to which I listen on Everydays, the friends I cherish on Special Days, and the mundane earthshattering triumphs accomplished ONLY on E.R. Days are all partakers in the rich context of story surrounding the various characters about whom I write. This is why novelists often speak about characters being real, as though not truly fictionalized, but as alive as you and I. It is as though we too have knelt in the dust and breathed the Breath of Life into our characters, and that they borrow it, as we do from God, indefinitely. That is, until we permit something deeply offensive and stupid, mind-numbing and skull-crushing, to separate us from that Source of constant impurity.
Writing is like breathing. It evokes and involves life.