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Formally Bug Drivel; now Freedom Lover USA ~ 2003 - 2016 : All Rights Reserved ~

Saturday, September 24, 2005

What happens when I can't write

Apparently, I write about not being able to write.

Being an extreme writer makes it hard when I either have nothing I wish to write about or no inspiration to create something new. Everyone comes across a road block in writing... if not now, then some day soon. Life is not a constant stream of monotone voices. Life brings ups and downs and new turns in a river that flows faster than any canoe can manage.

There have been times when I just didn't care if I ever wrote again. This is based off those moments of exasperation towards my writing abilities or lack of imagination. Hell... if I can't be excited about my writing, why would I want to write anything?

So today I am writing in order to remember that I do love writing. To remind myself that I do have something to say about many different things. To keep myself in training, if you will.

Last year was met with very little writing for me because I was dealing with many personal and family trials. I was told to write anyway, but I couldn't quite get my fingers to cooperate with my mind... or perhaps it was the other way around. The truth be told, I should have written anyway. If not in my stories, than at least in a journal. Okay... I did accomplish a little journal writing, but not much. Most of my writing was complaining about not writing.

Stress from everyday life causes me to clamp up at the keyboard or hide in front of the television or sleep longer than I should or visit the mall when I have no cash. Quiet moments are not necessarily better than those filled with noise. If it's TOO quiet, I tend to dwell on subjects I don't wish to write about and I end up further behind.

I am an extreme writer... when I write.

My goal is to write when it's least comfortable... to write when I would rather watch a movie: to write when I am hungry, or tired, or angry, or feeling loved.

What other way do I have to express ALL that I wish to express?

That is... and still have a record of expressing it. :)





Sunday, September 11, 2005

Down and dirty with my muse

My "fiction writing" muse went on vacation about a year ago (give or take) and she hasn't returned. Every now and then she pokes her head in my door to see if I'm still residing on planet Earth. It's frustrating that she's gone on vacation and even more frustrating that I can't seem to coax her into returning.

I have several writing projects on my table, many of which have been on hold over the course of this same "museless" year. They are all fictional pieces, not urgent enough for me to panic over just because I'm not writing in them.

This may indeed be the problem.

When a piece of writing is not important enough to the writer, it usually doesn't get finished. It sits patiently in the computer hard drive waiting for someone (specifically the author) to open the file and start adding words to it. These stories are either not strong enough to make themselves heard or the author is not driven enough to make them work.

Some stories are so strong, they scream at the author day and night. They can not be ignored even when it is wished; they live independently and only need the author for the purpose of placing the words on paper. Some stories are not necessarily strong but the author is a true writer through and through and will not give up until physically incapable of writing.

My situation is a mixture of some of these elements. I have a story that lives and breathes on its own inside my mind... but I have snuffed it out for the time being. Other life events have taken over: healing from the death of a family member, splitting up with my fiance, moving to a new state, searching desperately for a new job, placing my son into school, hoping I can make it in a completely different area, leaving my family as I go on my journey and dealing with the disappointments of not writing when I should have been (which in turn makes me not write even more).

I have not come to the point in my writing career (and I do call it a career since I have been at it for some time now) where writing is like breathing. I can continue without writing stories... it is not part of my blood yet.

I hear other writers claim they can't help but write, that they are incomplete without writing something, anything, every day of their life. They claim that the story screams in their head and they are drawn there no matter how hard they struggle. It is life to them.

It is not life to me... not yet. I know it's there. I can feel the call in the far reaches of my mind... I hear the plots of my stories tickling at my brain. They remember when I was excited to write about them; they remember my passion.

Waiting daily for that passion's return may be a lost cause - at least, if I continue the way I am now. Writing daily with that passion is what needs to happen. Until then, I shall continue to write non-fiction awaiting the moment when I can find... no... MAKE the time to write those wonderful science fiction novels, fantasy novels and adventure novels that sit quietly... waiting for me.

In the mean time... I pick up my book called The Pocket Muse and try to jump start my own muse into sparking something of interest in my writing brain.


Monday, September 5, 2005

Hurricane Katrina

There are many people writing, speaking and arguing about Hurricane Katrina. My thoughts are drawn to this situation from many angles these days... anger, sadness and disbelief.

Many have easily drawn politics into this, while others fend politics off in hopes of getting help for people who desperately need it.

It's easy for me to say... but it's true. If I lived closer, I would allow people to come and stay with me.

That being said... when I think about this further, I wonder if I would be able to open up my home to anyone if they actually started busing people to this part of the country (Boise, Idaho). Where would I put them?

I have about 700 sq ft of which all is taken up with my stuff. I suppose I could have people for a short time (ie maybe a week or two) sleeping on my couch or my floor.

But then I would have to go to work and would feel weird having people in my house that I do not know while I'm not here. Let me preface that I would feel that way about anyone... even the Queen of England or the Pope. Okay... maybe not the Pope, but you see what I'm saying. I do not want anyone to pull the "you don't trust those people because of this or that" card on me. I don't care what your status is in life in any genre... if you are in a bad way and you are honest with me, I will help.

What's strange... I am more willing to open my house to people I don't know than to send a lot of money. Maybe that's because I do not know where the money is going (maybe it's because my trust has been altered during my life time), but if someone were in my house and eating my food... then I would know for sure they were getting what I was offering.

Is that selfish?

A friend of mine told me that throwing money at a problem makes her feel worse, as if she is trying to avoid actually helping. This comment hit home as I often feel the same way. In the same breath she also stated that she does not believe sending money "doesn't" help because doing all that we can in our own individual ways is better than doing nothing.

She said something else I feel might be true in the eyes of many who view these tragedies day after day on their boob-tube:

And for us who don't live near Orleans or don't have a house they can open up, maybe it just makes us feel a little guilty when all we can contribute is money.

I can understand this sentiment and sometimes feel like it is an easy way out of the situation... like I am doing it INSTEAD of driving down there to help. HOWEVER... I also realize this is a silly thing to think because when people send money, it DOES help!! So don't think I am belittling those who have sent money... I am not saying that in any way!

It just seems so little in comparison to those who have offered their homes or their time or even themselves to those who need them.

Perhaps I need to look at the big picture... at the country (even the world) as a whole. Do I expect those who live in New Orleans to drive to California to help if there's a large earthquake? Or drive to Boise to help if there's an emergency of this magnitude here? Of course not. Sending money to help those who can help in person is probably the best I can do at this point. If something happens here or closer to home... then I can offer my help more personally.

If you have the ability to send money... please send it to the Red Cross as they have people who can help the most. Remember... you can specify where you want your cash to go!
May we each take the moment necessary out of this day and any day we feel the need to remember those who have gone before us in defense of our freedoms. Without them... we would not be "here"... we would be in chains. ~Bug~