Just burn…

Apropos of National Novel Writing Month, I thought I’d repost this favorite of mine.

Why do I write in the light
When the dark is so intoxicating?
Just to keep up appearances…
Do I continue to smile though I’m dying?
How do I find my voice
Amidst a cacophony of screaming?
I don’t want your self-help diatribe
I don’t want your power of positive thinking

I can’t hear myself think
Let alone pen a work of distinction
I need a strong, stiff drink
But that’s only self-medication
And what’s it all mean anyway?
When nothing’s going to give satisfaction
Just a book full of ink spots
That sits on a shelf gathering desolation

How do I come to grips
With my own profound unhappiness?
I’m nothing but thunderstorms and anger
Keep your sunshine and sweetness
I have no more words of encouragement
It’s cruelty, competition, unfairness
The theme for the day is belligerent
It’s outworking displays its aggressiveness

So save your kindly comments
And your gestures of reverent concern
For into the fires of failure
I let the manuscripts burn
Lick the curling hundreds of pages
Kindle the books, at each turn
Throw gas on the conflagration
And I’m gone, never more to return…

Drinking Adventurously – Writer’s Edition

Week 47 in the Year of Drinking Adventurously. Sweet potato beer. (FAIL)

I didn’t find this locally –although truth be told, I didn’t look too hard. I saw sweet potato beer and thought: pumpkin beer, which falls under the category of ‘enough with the pumpkin already’ in my world. The chapter of our guide started with ‘Japan’ and meandered to ‘gluten free’ and my eyes crossed and I gave up. (No offense Jeff, this is still an awesome book. Buy it y’all.)51fffcpqPZL._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_

And besides, I’ve been stressed enough this month trying to pen a novel in 30 days. So instead, because I’m consumed with writing, I thought we’d explore that age old bit of wisdom wrongly attributed to Ernest Hemingway: Write drunk, edit sober. (That’s right, Fictional Kevin, Ernie never said that.) I’ve also tried this approach: write sober, get drunk, edit with a hangover. Or write with a hangover, edit whilst drunk again. Of course, I’m kidding… Sort of. It actually works brilliantly with poetry. My poetry anyway.

Apparently (according to Google -that infallible source of all things everything) the quote is more likely from novelist, Peter De Vries. In his book, “Reuben, Reuben” published in 1964, the main character is based on a famous drunkard -the poet, Dylan Thomas. On page 242 the character says this: “Sometimes I write drunk and revise sober, and sometimes I write sober and revise drunk. But you have to have both elements in creation — the Apollonian and the Dionysian, or spontaneity and restraint, emotion and discipline.”

Well, whoever said it, its the second bit that’s brilliant -the part about having both elements of creation in your writing – emotion and discipline…  The trick is finding the balance. Lowering the inhibitions or finding that altered state, may prompt you to put down on paper (or screen) words that you may have have thought twice about in a more restrained condition. Some of my most inspired writing comes to me at 3:00 am when my eyes slam open with an idea fully formed during the fog of sleep. I have to creep from bed, find my notebook and scribble it all down before it’s lost to the next round of sleep, or daylight whichever comes first. 

There is a fine line between intoxication and inspiration. What I mean is, a little liquid prime to the creative pump is a good idea, but flooding the engine just stalls it out. So don’t write drunk and  edit sober. Write inspired and edit minimally.

Sorry for the fail Lula

 

 

Hitting the wall at 30,000 words…

Two full days. That’s what a weekend should give a writer participating in National Novel Writing Month. (Still hating the acronym). Going into this challenge, I knew I would be losing the first weekend to my excursion to New York City, (Hamilton was off the chart good. All that hype? Absolutely true!) but after that I figured on using the weekends to make up for any writing time I lost during the week due to my practice and my other responsibilities. The weekends ended up being the least productive days that I had… And this particular weekend, I spent three agonizing hours trying to work out a single scene to bring a plot point to conclusion. Three hours = 287 words. Horrendous. And for what? Only to find that I’ve hit a wall… I’m not sure how to write myself to my next point of interest. I may need a break…..