Writing ramblings
I have this theory.
Hey! You, put the flamethrower down. Not that theory.
Anyway, I have this theory that writing is transitory. Well, that's a misleading statement because writing, once put to paper, is there until you change it. I suppose I mean to say that the impetus is transitory. What drives the story changes from moment to moment. Some evenings I think 'what if I had written this tomorow? Or yesterday? How different would it be?"
There are days where I stare at the words I put down on the metaphorical paper and think, tomorrow this would have been gold, but tonight this is crap. I don't know how often I'm right or wrong about that or if it's just my own writing self esteem fucking with my head. I could write the same premise twelve different ways, assuming of course I approach it with twelve different mindsets.
So this relates to my current reason for going to hell how?
Nosey bunch aren't you?
Well to me, each scene in a story has to portray something, there should be a point to every inch of space you take up, otherwise you're wasting not only the reader's time, but your time and finite amount of creativity you have for that given moment. There's only so much you can get down on a page before you have stop for the day/night/virgin sacrifice. And no matter how in the groove you are, you'll never be situated in that groove quite the same way ever again. So you shouldn't waste the time in that spot writing something that is of no use to the story. It will just provide you with more instances later where your tone/writing/thought process/feelings of inadequacy change subtly within the text of your story.
Tonight I wrote a series of scenes specifically to highlight my main characters fears and wants and needs from a current relationship. Two of them are both entertaining in premise, with funny lines in all the right places and just a nice hint of sexuality to keep it at a nice simmer. The third scene, the most serious of the bunch is the shortest, it's sole purpose to re-establish the original premise without the silly situations around to alter my character's state of mind.
I spent a lot of time choosing the words and actions very carefully for my main character. What he says as well as what he doesn't say in each scene is incredibly important. Ditto for his actions. And until certain specific people finish reading these scenes and get back to me I won't feel incredibly confident about them, because I won't know if what I wanted to convey came across with any sort of voice. Half of my fears sometimes are that I"m too subtle. I have a large amount of contempt for the shallow reader, I freely admit that, I think that people who don't follow the many layers of a story just don't deserve to be reading it, but I also admit that I'm big old literary snob and that in order to convert the unbeleivers, I shouldn't cling to my high standards. Plus it makes for a better story when you don't have to hunt things down through a 150 pages in order to understand the emotional arc of my protagonist.
Topic? What's a topic?
Oh right.
So anyway, I always reread my days writing before I go to sleep, sort of like a mental roadmap for my subconscious to ponder while I get my beauty sleep. And sometimes I wonder what something would have been like if I'd waiting a day. If I'd written that scene while settled differently in the groove. But I very rarely, unless threatened by my beta, change entire chunks once I'm done. I've only once or twice scrapped an entire scene and started over.
Why one might ask?
Because at some point you have to close your eyes and trust that you know what you're doing. Writing, creating, is this big nebulous process that even we the creators sometimes don't understand fully. Somedays I start with a single prompt and it just explodes from there, other days I go to bed thinking I've written myself into a corner and will never be able to get out of it. Admittedly I don't think I've never REALLY had writer's block. Just writer's apathy, my brain occassionaly burns out and the thought of using the amount of energy it would take to create just sends me into a coma.
And yet, I can't write original fiction. Even at my most creative and prolific I just draw a blank. This is possibly my own self sabotage at full swing, because I can't take my own advice and just close my eyes and let go.
*shrug*
Ok, for those of you who stuck around?
FIC SNIPPET!
This is a cut scene from a fic currently in progress. Enjoy!
***
"Stargate?" Rodney questioned indignantly. "That just shows a lack of creativity all around." He squinted closer at the screen. "Stargate: Atlantis? We were a spin off?" He buried his face in his hands. "That's utterly humiliating."
John came up behind him, leaning over the chair, one casual hand on Rodney's shoulder, he pointed. "You want humiliating, look at the character playing me."
Rodney's head tilted. "He looks just like you, but with better hair."
Automatically lifting one hand to feel the top of his head, John frowned. "My hair is perfectly fine."
"For someone who just rolled out of bed maybe, really Colonel, I didn't think rakish was military standing."
"Rakish?" John grinned widely. "Why Rodney, have you been staying up nights thinking of adjectives just for me?"
"Shut up."
"No, seriously, are there any other words of choice you have more my hair?"
Rodney pressed a few keys on the terminal. "Would you like me to call you The Fonz and just get it over wi-- oh my god, you're played by a guy named Joe. You *are* the proletariat."
John frowned, taking renewed interest in the screen. "Was that a backhanded slap at my name?"
Hey! You, put the flamethrower down. Not that theory.
Anyway, I have this theory that writing is transitory. Well, that's a misleading statement because writing, once put to paper, is there until you change it. I suppose I mean to say that the impetus is transitory. What drives the story changes from moment to moment. Some evenings I think 'what if I had written this tomorow? Or yesterday? How different would it be?"
There are days where I stare at the words I put down on the metaphorical paper and think, tomorrow this would have been gold, but tonight this is crap. I don't know how often I'm right or wrong about that or if it's just my own writing self esteem fucking with my head. I could write the same premise twelve different ways, assuming of course I approach it with twelve different mindsets.
So this relates to my current reason for going to hell how?
Nosey bunch aren't you?
Well to me, each scene in a story has to portray something, there should be a point to every inch of space you take up, otherwise you're wasting not only the reader's time, but your time and finite amount of creativity you have for that given moment. There's only so much you can get down on a page before you have stop for the day/night/virgin sacrifice. And no matter how in the groove you are, you'll never be situated in that groove quite the same way ever again. So you shouldn't waste the time in that spot writing something that is of no use to the story. It will just provide you with more instances later where your tone/writing/thought process/feelings of inadequacy change subtly within the text of your story.
Tonight I wrote a series of scenes specifically to highlight my main characters fears and wants and needs from a current relationship. Two of them are both entertaining in premise, with funny lines in all the right places and just a nice hint of sexuality to keep it at a nice simmer. The third scene, the most serious of the bunch is the shortest, it's sole purpose to re-establish the original premise without the silly situations around to alter my character's state of mind.
I spent a lot of time choosing the words and actions very carefully for my main character. What he says as well as what he doesn't say in each scene is incredibly important. Ditto for his actions. And until certain specific people finish reading these scenes and get back to me I won't feel incredibly confident about them, because I won't know if what I wanted to convey came across with any sort of voice. Half of my fears sometimes are that I"m too subtle. I have a large amount of contempt for the shallow reader, I freely admit that, I think that people who don't follow the many layers of a story just don't deserve to be reading it, but I also admit that I'm big old literary snob and that in order to convert the unbeleivers, I shouldn't cling to my high standards. Plus it makes for a better story when you don't have to hunt things down through a 150 pages in order to understand the emotional arc of my protagonist.
Topic? What's a topic?
Oh right.
So anyway, I always reread my days writing before I go to sleep, sort of like a mental roadmap for my subconscious to ponder while I get my beauty sleep. And sometimes I wonder what something would have been like if I'd waiting a day. If I'd written that scene while settled differently in the groove. But I very rarely, unless threatened by my beta, change entire chunks once I'm done. I've only once or twice scrapped an entire scene and started over.
Why one might ask?
Because at some point you have to close your eyes and trust that you know what you're doing. Writing, creating, is this big nebulous process that even we the creators sometimes don't understand fully. Somedays I start with a single prompt and it just explodes from there, other days I go to bed thinking I've written myself into a corner and will never be able to get out of it. Admittedly I don't think I've never REALLY had writer's block. Just writer's apathy, my brain occassionaly burns out and the thought of using the amount of energy it would take to create just sends me into a coma.
And yet, I can't write original fiction. Even at my most creative and prolific I just draw a blank. This is possibly my own self sabotage at full swing, because I can't take my own advice and just close my eyes and let go.
*shrug*
Ok, for those of you who stuck around?
FIC SNIPPET!
This is a cut scene from a fic currently in progress. Enjoy!
***
"Stargate?" Rodney questioned indignantly. "That just shows a lack of creativity all around." He squinted closer at the screen. "Stargate: Atlantis? We were a spin off?" He buried his face in his hands. "That's utterly humiliating."
John came up behind him, leaning over the chair, one casual hand on Rodney's shoulder, he pointed. "You want humiliating, look at the character playing me."
Rodney's head tilted. "He looks just like you, but with better hair."
Automatically lifting one hand to feel the top of his head, John frowned. "My hair is perfectly fine."
"For someone who just rolled out of bed maybe, really Colonel, I didn't think rakish was military standing."
"Rakish?" John grinned widely. "Why Rodney, have you been staying up nights thinking of adjectives just for me?"
"Shut up."
"No, seriously, are there any other words of choice you have more my hair?"
Rodney pressed a few keys on the terminal. "Would you like me to call you The Fonz and just get it over wi-- oh my god, you're played by a guy named Joe. You *are* the proletariat."
John frowned, taking renewed interest in the screen. "Was that a backhanded slap at my name?"