Ellie Lieberman's Blog: Dusty Shelves, page 3
December 18, 2015
What's In A Name?
What’s in a name, Juliet asks. Would a rose by any other name still smell as sweet? It depends on who you ask. Here’s what is in a name: identity, how they view themselves and how others view them.
Sometimes characters come with a name. It’s like transcribing a play. They walk in and they are introduced to me, as the writer, as they are to you, the reader. An example of this is Nicole Brennerman. Often times, we think of people as their whole name when they are something or someone “bigger” than ourselves. Do you refer to Jane Austen as simply Jane or simply Austen? How about John Green? They are both their first and last name. Regardless of what we think of them, that is how we see them. As a celebrity, or something almost untouchable, someone we put on a pedestal, we associate their individual identity as both first name and surname.
This is in comparison to Ms. Emerson, for example, who has a different level of separation and distance. Math’s teacher is simply Ms. Emerson. Her identity provides enough individuality for Math’s character, but offers more individuality than Sampson’s unnamed film instructor. Why? Ms. Emerson has an individual active and important role in the influence on Math, where Sampson’s unnamed instructor becomes the embodiment of every other person who has held a similar position. The unnamed college instructor is also simply yet another voice in the crowd telling Sampson a similar sentiment, while Ms. Emerson gives a name to the very way Math feels.
Remaining unnamed also allows a person or character to be reduced to a role, such as Math and Sampson’s father or mother. The importance they hold in the story is in the expectation of what a father should be in comparison to who he truly was, and in how important the mother was to both boys and the positive influence she had on them. This contrasts with the shooter in the park who is neither named nor actually seen. He is but a ghost and you can make of that what you will.
How does a full name or lack of name create distance? Consider how the four main characters identify each other, such as Clem or Math. Clem and Math are both shortened nicknames. Clements Walker and Matheus Thomas are their names, yet the only time you hear their actual names are for emphasis or used in anger and frustration. Consider also, the way in which Nicole Brennerman goes from calling Samspon, Thomas to Sampson. There’s intimacy, closeness, and a level of equality when being addressed in such an informal and comfortable way. The same way Carver calls Sampson “Sammy” in a moment of attempted comfort.
Sometimes other factors are an influence, such as another literary source. An example of this is Ophelia Cortez. In writing the introduction to this character, it was also an introduction to her name and who she was as a person. I discovered it while writing as new eyes would when reading. “… A name tied to a tragedy she would never let herself experience…” Boom! We’ve got a name; Ophelia, which is a reference to Shakespeare’s Hamlet.
Clem’s name also has a small tie to a literary source. When I first started writing Society's Foundlings I was revisiting some of Andrew Clements work. As with most things in my life, basset hounds were also a big influence. At the time, I also had a conversation with my brother and we were discussing what we would name basset hounds we would get in the future. The names he gave me were Clemson and something similar to Matheus. Math’s name was also influenced by a Welsh God, Math. Personally, I think he would be thrilled with this aspect of his name.
Sampson’s name is also influenced by a pet. It was the name of my cat growing up. We gave the little kitten a big name to grow into and he had. The name itself perhaps had some influence on me, but it just seemed to fit the character as well.
Where did Carver’s name come from? Your guess is as good as mine. It is perhaps the only thing he and Nicole Brennerman has in common. I can tell you this, though. At the very start of writing it his name was Carson. Turns out he preferred Carver. Would he have been different had his name been Carson? Would the reader have seen him differently? Would I have written him differently? What is in a name?
You decide.
Sometimes characters come with a name. It’s like transcribing a play. They walk in and they are introduced to me, as the writer, as they are to you, the reader. An example of this is Nicole Brennerman. Often times, we think of people as their whole name when they are something or someone “bigger” than ourselves. Do you refer to Jane Austen as simply Jane or simply Austen? How about John Green? They are both their first and last name. Regardless of what we think of them, that is how we see them. As a celebrity, or something almost untouchable, someone we put on a pedestal, we associate their individual identity as both first name and surname.
This is in comparison to Ms. Emerson, for example, who has a different level of separation and distance. Math’s teacher is simply Ms. Emerson. Her identity provides enough individuality for Math’s character, but offers more individuality than Sampson’s unnamed film instructor. Why? Ms. Emerson has an individual active and important role in the influence on Math, where Sampson’s unnamed instructor becomes the embodiment of every other person who has held a similar position. The unnamed college instructor is also simply yet another voice in the crowd telling Sampson a similar sentiment, while Ms. Emerson gives a name to the very way Math feels.
Remaining unnamed also allows a person or character to be reduced to a role, such as Math and Sampson’s father or mother. The importance they hold in the story is in the expectation of what a father should be in comparison to who he truly was, and in how important the mother was to both boys and the positive influence she had on them. This contrasts with the shooter in the park who is neither named nor actually seen. He is but a ghost and you can make of that what you will.
How does a full name or lack of name create distance? Consider how the four main characters identify each other, such as Clem or Math. Clem and Math are both shortened nicknames. Clements Walker and Matheus Thomas are their names, yet the only time you hear their actual names are for emphasis or used in anger and frustration. Consider also, the way in which Nicole Brennerman goes from calling Samspon, Thomas to Sampson. There’s intimacy, closeness, and a level of equality when being addressed in such an informal and comfortable way. The same way Carver calls Sampson “Sammy” in a moment of attempted comfort.
Sometimes other factors are an influence, such as another literary source. An example of this is Ophelia Cortez. In writing the introduction to this character, it was also an introduction to her name and who she was as a person. I discovered it while writing as new eyes would when reading. “… A name tied to a tragedy she would never let herself experience…” Boom! We’ve got a name; Ophelia, which is a reference to Shakespeare’s Hamlet.
Clem’s name also has a small tie to a literary source. When I first started writing Society's Foundlings I was revisiting some of Andrew Clements work. As with most things in my life, basset hounds were also a big influence. At the time, I also had a conversation with my brother and we were discussing what we would name basset hounds we would get in the future. The names he gave me were Clemson and something similar to Matheus. Math’s name was also influenced by a Welsh God, Math. Personally, I think he would be thrilled with this aspect of his name.
Sampson’s name is also influenced by a pet. It was the name of my cat growing up. We gave the little kitten a big name to grow into and he had. The name itself perhaps had some influence on me, but it just seemed to fit the character as well.
Where did Carver’s name come from? Your guess is as good as mine. It is perhaps the only thing he and Nicole Brennerman has in common. I can tell you this, though. At the very start of writing it his name was Carson. Turns out he preferred Carver. Would he have been different had his name been Carson? Would the reader have seen him differently? Would I have written him differently? What is in a name?
You decide.
November 27, 2015
Historical Fiction: Walking in Someone Else's Moccasins
I haven’t written a historical fiction… yet. There’s one in mind, so maybe in the future. However, I do enjoy reading it. It combines two of my favorite loves; history and reading. Why not just nonfiction, then? Which, I do dabble in occasionally. I have enough nonfiction books to fill multiple shelves. But, there is something about the fictional aspect that is difficult to achieve in nonfiction.
In fiction, you either are in the place of the character or get to know them and walk beside them throughout the journey like a friend. You see the sights and smell the smells and experience the experiences as though you are there. It’s a time machine between two covers. Our own personal TARDIS.
In a way, the fictional aspect makes it more real. History is more than just names and dates. It’s even more than the individual events. It’s the stories. It’s what the people went through, emotionally, mentally, physically and all of the above. History is not meant to be experienced behind a desk, through a textbook that reads like the teacher from Ferris Bewler. It’s meant to be felt and understood the way you would your everyday life.
And, when it’s done really well and the tough topics that most stray from are handled with care and done justice, like in Barbara Lieberman’s Message on the Wind and following books in the series, it really makes you walk a mile in someone else’s moccasins.
In fiction, you either are in the place of the character or get to know them and walk beside them throughout the journey like a friend. You see the sights and smell the smells and experience the experiences as though you are there. It’s a time machine between two covers. Our own personal TARDIS.
In a way, the fictional aspect makes it more real. History is more than just names and dates. It’s even more than the individual events. It’s the stories. It’s what the people went through, emotionally, mentally, physically and all of the above. History is not meant to be experienced behind a desk, through a textbook that reads like the teacher from Ferris Bewler. It’s meant to be felt and understood the way you would your everyday life.
And, when it’s done really well and the tough topics that most stray from are handled with care and done justice, like in Barbara Lieberman’s Message on the Wind and following books in the series, it really makes you walk a mile in someone else’s moccasins.
November 19, 2015
Why I Still Believe in Santa and Fairies
Why is believing in the fantastical so bad? Why, when we get older, must we lose the magic? Things like fairies or Santa aren’t lies. They are believing in something bigger than yourself, concepts we should embody in the everyday. And, as children, when we are allowed to believe in the extraordinary, we come to find the extraordinary in the everyday as adults.
With the holidays just around the corner, when I think of the embodiment of Christmas it is no longer the large man with a white beard and red hat. It’s my mother in his place. It’s the incredible lengths she went to so my brother and I could believe. And, now, it’s also myself I see in that place, with my large sack of gifts (most of which are already wrapped).
Was it a lie? For her to ask “what did Santa bring you?” To have us believe in magic and possibility and hope? There are those who would say it was, that there was a seed of dishonesty. But, it was never about what was wrapped under the tree. It’s what it meant. Like, what it meant if mom could still cook the turkey every Thanksgiving. We might not have had milk in our fridge. Mom might have been sick. But, we had Christmas.
When we later came to the realization on our own that Santa wasn’t real, the magic was still there, if not more so, to discover everything my mother did to make sure we could still believe. And, from the time my brother and I were old enough to know mom was Santa, we were also old enough to know we were, too. Everyone has a little bit of Santa in them.
There is magic in the world if we know where to look. Children know where to look. We just forget when we’re older. Buttercups telling us who loves butter and who doesn’t. Butterflies and fireflies are fairies in disguise. The sun setting and the moon rising. A wish on a dandelion. Leafs changing and snow falling. That such a big sunflower can come from such as tiny seed.
Every day is a miracle. Fairies and Santa Clause are the embodiment of them. And just because I’m older doesn’t mean I don’t still believe and doesn’t mean the magic has disappeared. It’s only become stronger.
November 17, 2015
My Tagline: A Light in the Darkness...
I’ve been thinking about tag lines of late. Businesses tend to have tag lines, a sentence long catchy slogan, as do some authors. So far my favorite is Barbara Lieberman’s “Reimaging Happily Ever After.” And, it really does fit her work.
What fits my work? What would my tagline be?
Recently, a reader called my writing fearless. I mean, what a way to stroke my ego. Nothing gets my pen scratching and my fingers typing faster than praise like that. She called it fearless for “going there.” When people first pick up Society's Foundlings there is this assumption that because it’s about young men written by a young woman it would be a sweet story.
Truth is, sweet is not exactly my cup of tea when it comes to writing. It can be a little dark, a little sad, and in some parts bitter-sweet. However, as Dot Cannon, a local blogger from Noelophile (http://noelophile.com/) and Over Coffee (http://twomaverix.com/) pointed out, despite the dark nature and tough themes I discuss in my writing, the ultimate message is that of hope.
A Light in the Darkness…
Whether it’s Carver’s cigarette matches from Society's Foundlings or dragon’s fire from the upcoming Dragon Anthology.
There’s my tagline.
What fits my work? What would my tagline be?
Recently, a reader called my writing fearless. I mean, what a way to stroke my ego. Nothing gets my pen scratching and my fingers typing faster than praise like that. She called it fearless for “going there.” When people first pick up Society's Foundlings there is this assumption that because it’s about young men written by a young woman it would be a sweet story.
Truth is, sweet is not exactly my cup of tea when it comes to writing. It can be a little dark, a little sad, and in some parts bitter-sweet. However, as Dot Cannon, a local blogger from Noelophile (http://noelophile.com/) and Over Coffee (http://twomaverix.com/) pointed out, despite the dark nature and tough themes I discuss in my writing, the ultimate message is that of hope.
A Light in the Darkness…
Whether it’s Carver’s cigarette matches from Society's Foundlings or dragon’s fire from the upcoming Dragon Anthology.
There’s my tagline.
October 31, 2015
Happy Halloween
Originally, I was planning to write a blog on the history of YA or what the genre of “Coming of Age” means. And, this is what it has come to be so far. Funny, plans seem to be changing all over the place and though it tends to drive me a bit nuts, I’ve watched enough Farscape to know plan A, B, and even C rarely seems to work out.
There’s a lot of changes that are coming about for my family and I, and a lot of changes we would like to happen. We are very fortunate to have and grateful for our friends and loved ones who are helping us down the paths we’d like to venture forth on. And, how right it should be during Samhain.
While others are carving pumpkins and feasting upon chocolates and sweets, my mother and I, with the help of those wonderful friends, will be packing boxes and stuffing items in a storage unit. We’re moving, in every sense of the word. It might be a lot slower than either of us would like, but it is still moving. One more step in the direction we desire. Instead of bobbing for apples or putting on masks, we’re scaring away the demons of the past and starting over. Our life’s New Year as well as spiritual one.
It’s not our first rodeo, as some would say. And, the night might end with us passed out at eight from all our raucous packing and moving, with nary a movie, book, or candy to celebrate. But, the celebration will be taking place a few months from now.
Till then, happy Halloweeen.
There’s a lot of changes that are coming about for my family and I, and a lot of changes we would like to happen. We are very fortunate to have and grateful for our friends and loved ones who are helping us down the paths we’d like to venture forth on. And, how right it should be during Samhain.
While others are carving pumpkins and feasting upon chocolates and sweets, my mother and I, with the help of those wonderful friends, will be packing boxes and stuffing items in a storage unit. We’re moving, in every sense of the word. It might be a lot slower than either of us would like, but it is still moving. One more step in the direction we desire. Instead of bobbing for apples or putting on masks, we’re scaring away the demons of the past and starting over. Our life’s New Year as well as spiritual one.
It’s not our first rodeo, as some would say. And, the night might end with us passed out at eight from all our raucous packing and moving, with nary a movie, book, or candy to celebrate. But, the celebration will be taking place a few months from now.
Till then, happy Halloweeen.
October 24, 2015
Help Corrupt Young Minds
When I was ten years old, I sat at my desk reading Go Ask Alice. My teacher came over, hands on her hips and asked me accusingly if my mother knew what I was reading. Looking up at her, I said, “She’s the one who gave it to me.” The reason she gave it to me was because it had an impact on her and, to be quite honest, it worked better than the DARE program ever did. And, when she was ten, her school board was asked to ban it. My mother always taught us to read everything, even the books considered most dangerous. Especially, the books considered most dangerous. As Oscar Wilde put it, “An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy of being called an idea.”
This is probably why censoring books seems ridiculous to me. And, why it shocked me in eighth grade, when we were told to pick a book and read it in small reading groups, a group of classmates of mine were told they had to choose a new book halfway through. Why? Because there was a scene, about a paragraph in length, that some of the teachers thought might be inappropriate. This was a book all those classmates were enjoying, and they were about the only ones in this reading program. Which book it was or what the scene was I have a very vague recollection of. But, I remember the disappointment and frustration they faced at suddenly having a beloved book taken away and forced to not only start over, but with a book that was nowhere near as good.
And, it is also probably why it startled me at the age of 18 when I went to pick up On the Road that I ordered through the local library, the librarian asked if I was 18 or over, as though she would not give it to me if I wasn’t. I remember walking home thinking what a strange question that was. What difference would my age make? And then, when I realized the implication behind the question, it made me angry. Who was she to try to censor my reading?
The books I wind up enjoying and loving the most have been banned or challenge, even if I do not seek them out for this reason. Why? I love the themes they talk about. I love their depth and the way they make me think and feel. Oscar Wilde also said, “The books the world calls immortal are the books that show the world its own shame.” And these are the books that taught me to have a passion for reading, that ignited that flame, even when public education’s “English” and “literature” courses threatened to blow it out.
There is a magic to a book you pick up on your own. And there’s even more enticement when you are told you shouldn’t pick up that book at all. This is why The Uprise Books Project is so essential. By giving underprivileged teens, free of charge, the very books that many have tried forbid them and other readers, they help end the cycle of poverty through literacy and establish a love and passion of reading.
Most if not all of the books referenced or read in Society's Foundlings has and/or is banned and/or challenged, even Winnie the Pooh. The reason was not intentional; it was simply the books they could relate to most. It was the books that spoke to them in a way nothing else did, with the exception of music and movies. It made them feel not quite so alone. As Clem put it, “Those moments you go, “Yeah, someone else gets it. That’s what it’s like.” It doesn’t matter if it’s fictional, because you whisper to the page words of mutual understanding.”
It seemed only fitting to have Society's Foundlings support The Uprise Books Project. 10% of the proceeds of Society's Foundlings will now go to helping corrupt young minds. If you would like to aid in this incredible cause, check out their website: http://uprisebooks.org/
October 20, 2015
How Much Can You Change About Your Characters
How much can you change about your characters and still stay true to them?
A common exercise suggested to writers is to take their character and drop them into a different setting. This exercise is said to give a writer a better understanding for their character. If you know your characters well enough outside their story, how they would react and what they would say and do to something completely different then what they would normally encounter, it will help you write them in the setting they belong. But, how much of their environment affects who the characters are?
What if you changed their back story? And, how much of their back story would change them? Take for instance, Barbara Lieberman’s Ellen Price from Message on the Wind. If you change her wealth, you still have Ellen Price. She would still stick her nose in other people’s business and run into situations without looking. Compare this to her male counterpart, Alexander McEwen. If you changed, for instance, his culture and heritage, the fact he’s Native American, you change a huge aspect of the character as a whole. Why? Because, this is such a huge part of who he is, how he sees the world and himself, and effects even the smaller details, such as how he wears his hair.
Or is it? This brings up the whole nature versus nurture debate. How much of the characteristics of your characters are innate, would never change and are simply part of who they are regardless. And how much is dependent on the world around them, including their families, upbringing, and etc.
In Society's Foundlings, how much would be different if one thing changed? If Math and Sampson’s mother was still in the picture? If Clem came from money? If Carver went to college or invited Math to live with him instead of Sampson? Some might argue very little, while others would suggest a lot.
And how much is open to interpretation? How much could be open to debate?
How much can you change about your characters and still stay true to them?
A common exercise suggested to writers is to take their character and drop them into a different setting. This exercise is said to give a writer a better understanding for their character. If you know your characters well enough outside their story, how they would react and what they would say and do to something completely different then what they would normally encounter, it will help you write them in the setting they belong. But, how much of their environment affects who the characters are?
What if you changed their back story? And, how much of their back story would change them? Take for instance, Barbara Lieberman’s Ellen Price from Message on the Wind. If you change her wealth, you still have Ellen Price. She would still stick her nose in other people’s business and run into situations without looking. Compare this to her male counterpart, Alexander McEwen. If you changed, for instance, his culture and heritage, the fact he’s Native American, you change a huge aspect of the character as a whole. Why? Because, this is such a huge part of who he is, how he sees the world and himself, and effects even the smaller details, such as how he wears his hair.
Or is it? This brings up the whole nature versus nurture debate. How much of the characteristics of your characters are innate, would never change and are simply part of who they are regardless. And how much is dependent on the world around them, including their families, upbringing, and etc.
In Society's Foundlings, how much would be different if one thing changed? If Math and Sampson’s mother was still in the picture? If Clem came from money? If Carver went to college or invited Math to live with him instead of Sampson? Some might argue very little, while others would suggest a lot.
And how much is open to interpretation? How much could be open to debate?
How much can you change about your characters and still stay true to them?
October 14, 2015
A Light in the Dark
Barbara Lieberman recently wrote a blog about perspective and framing our memories and moments, how we choose to remember it. As she puts it, “Framing my perspective my way allows me joy in the journey and happiness in spite of pain.”
This also ties to a favorite quote of mine by Howard Zinn: “The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now, as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.” The same can be said for how we view the past. And, also what we choose to treasure.
In one of my many works in progress, the short story for the dragon anthology coming out in July 2016, the protagonist, a young and curious dragon, collects a variety of treasure while on an adventure where he seeks a place he belongs. However, the treasure he collects is not the usual gold and jewels expected to be found in a dragon’s horde.
His desire to pick up these objects is not the result of greed or jealousy. Instead, each item is a memento, represents a special moment, a special meaning, or a special person. It’s the light in the darkness, the happiness and the hope. As Barbara Lieberman said in her blog, “It’s not denying the awful. It’s seeing the gift in it.”
It’s why a bottle cap has more meaning than a diamond necklace. It can be seen as why one of the treasures is a scar, because they have lessons in and of themselves and can teach us, even if it’s only the complete opposite of what has actually occurred. And, it is also why some of the other characters treasure the dragon, as well.
What we choose to treasure, and ultimately remember, and how we choose to view it, is what makes it as valuable as it is. It’s like those old Mastercard commercials. My most prized possession, those priceless treasures, include family heirlooms and meaningful mementos from my childhood. My great grandmother’s china doll. My lovey, a stuffed tiger. The ring my mother gave me that marks my passage into womanhood I never take off with the exception of showers, swimming pools, and the ocean.
What are some of your treasures? How do you define treasure?
This also ties to a favorite quote of mine by Howard Zinn: “The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now, as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.” The same can be said for how we view the past. And, also what we choose to treasure.
In one of my many works in progress, the short story for the dragon anthology coming out in July 2016, the protagonist, a young and curious dragon, collects a variety of treasure while on an adventure where he seeks a place he belongs. However, the treasure he collects is not the usual gold and jewels expected to be found in a dragon’s horde.
His desire to pick up these objects is not the result of greed or jealousy. Instead, each item is a memento, represents a special moment, a special meaning, or a special person. It’s the light in the darkness, the happiness and the hope. As Barbara Lieberman said in her blog, “It’s not denying the awful. It’s seeing the gift in it.”
It’s why a bottle cap has more meaning than a diamond necklace. It can be seen as why one of the treasures is a scar, because they have lessons in and of themselves and can teach us, even if it’s only the complete opposite of what has actually occurred. And, it is also why some of the other characters treasure the dragon, as well.
What we choose to treasure, and ultimately remember, and how we choose to view it, is what makes it as valuable as it is. It’s like those old Mastercard commercials. My most prized possession, those priceless treasures, include family heirlooms and meaningful mementos from my childhood. My great grandmother’s china doll. My lovey, a stuffed tiger. The ring my mother gave me that marks my passage into womanhood I never take off with the exception of showers, swimming pools, and the ocean.
What are some of your treasures? How do you define treasure?
September 10, 2015
Where The Grapes Go
Recently I wrote a blog about being a pantser (writer who flies by the seat of their pants, rather than plans). And while my points on why I write that way are true, rebel personality and characters take the lead, it struck me as funny that writing was the one aspect of my life where I didn’t need to know the exact plan and double, if not triple, check it. It made me wonder if there were not perhaps another reason why this is my preferred method.
Outside of the worlds I create in notebooks, I suffer from anxiety. I say suffer because it’s not just an obnoxious gnat that constantly follows me around (though, it is that, too). It is also like twenty foot walls surrounding you that you cannot climb and cannot walk around. It is paralyzing obsession mixed with over-vigilance to an exhausting degree.
It’s checking the car door three to five times, if not more, just to be sure you did in fact lock it because what if it didn’t lock all the way or close all the way or you only thought you locked it or any number of other possibilities. It’s analyzing not only what the other person said to you and how they look and sound saying it, but the way they emphasized the words, which words got what type of emphasis, and what that pause that lasted for three seconds meant. And it’s everything, including yourself; how you hold yourself, what you are doing, how you are doing it, and the way all of that might be perceived.
Who needs someone else to gaslight you when you manage to do it to yourself?
In order to minimize the craziness, planning helps, including knowing exactly what the plan is and what is expected of me. In other words, do not just tell me to put the groceries away when I am helping you at your house. Tell me you want me to start with the fruits and exactly where you put your fruit and the order you put your fruit in. Are you like Chuckie Finster and you go big to small? Are you like the step mother in Blossom and need to have them alphabetized? Or do you want it be like an artist’s pallet? Otherwise, I could spend two hours trying to figure out where the grapes go and then the next two weeks fretting over if I put them in the right place and what if I did not and how I promised to help you put the groceries away and only got to the grapes and what if you never ask me for help again or I let you down.
This seems a bit extreme for something so minor. And, yet, it takes a lot to make the thought train come to a screeching halt, to try to follow Elsa’s advice and “let it go,” to move on. The truth is, it would probably take a lot for me to step foot in your kitchen again, if I’m not avoiding you all together because what if I caused you to misplace your grapes and then they get all moldy and you have to throw them out because of me. And who throws out food? There are people starving and I made you throw out your grapes!
Whether it’s trying to help someone, working outside the home, or even going out with friends, I have to know the plan or else I pace a hole in the floor (seeing how I live in a third-floor apartment, this is not advisable) and work myself up to a full fledge panic attack.
Writing, however, is a type of chaos I can embrace, instead of fighting it. It flows and it’s messy and it’s freeing, instead of trying to make it and me fit into whatever I perceive your cookie cutter mold to be. The grapes don’t have a specific spot in my writing. They go wherever and that’s okay and there’s no worrying over if they’re in the right spot, because there is no right spot. Everywhere is the right spot. There is no overanalyzing facial features and the way someone speaks. It’s simply putting pen to paper.
What I have come to discover in trying to figure out why I write the way I do is that it offers me a respite I find nowhere else. For those moments when I touch pen to paper, I am not stuck in the obsessions and the replaying and the overanazlying.
My therapist spoke to me about meditation. This is my meditation. This is how I can finally release these thoughts I clutch until my fingers turn white or that clutch me until I turn blue. I live my life within such rigid guidelines, so terrified to stray from the path, that it is only in my writing, where I am able, I allow myself, the freedom and the respite to do otherwise, and to, quite frankly, be who I actually am (the whole rebel personality thing).
Outside of the worlds I create in notebooks, I suffer from anxiety. I say suffer because it’s not just an obnoxious gnat that constantly follows me around (though, it is that, too). It is also like twenty foot walls surrounding you that you cannot climb and cannot walk around. It is paralyzing obsession mixed with over-vigilance to an exhausting degree.
It’s checking the car door three to five times, if not more, just to be sure you did in fact lock it because what if it didn’t lock all the way or close all the way or you only thought you locked it or any number of other possibilities. It’s analyzing not only what the other person said to you and how they look and sound saying it, but the way they emphasized the words, which words got what type of emphasis, and what that pause that lasted for three seconds meant. And it’s everything, including yourself; how you hold yourself, what you are doing, how you are doing it, and the way all of that might be perceived.
Who needs someone else to gaslight you when you manage to do it to yourself?
In order to minimize the craziness, planning helps, including knowing exactly what the plan is and what is expected of me. In other words, do not just tell me to put the groceries away when I am helping you at your house. Tell me you want me to start with the fruits and exactly where you put your fruit and the order you put your fruit in. Are you like Chuckie Finster and you go big to small? Are you like the step mother in Blossom and need to have them alphabetized? Or do you want it be like an artist’s pallet? Otherwise, I could spend two hours trying to figure out where the grapes go and then the next two weeks fretting over if I put them in the right place and what if I did not and how I promised to help you put the groceries away and only got to the grapes and what if you never ask me for help again or I let you down.
This seems a bit extreme for something so minor. And, yet, it takes a lot to make the thought train come to a screeching halt, to try to follow Elsa’s advice and “let it go,” to move on. The truth is, it would probably take a lot for me to step foot in your kitchen again, if I’m not avoiding you all together because what if I caused you to misplace your grapes and then they get all moldy and you have to throw them out because of me. And who throws out food? There are people starving and I made you throw out your grapes!
Whether it’s trying to help someone, working outside the home, or even going out with friends, I have to know the plan or else I pace a hole in the floor (seeing how I live in a third-floor apartment, this is not advisable) and work myself up to a full fledge panic attack.
Writing, however, is a type of chaos I can embrace, instead of fighting it. It flows and it’s messy and it’s freeing, instead of trying to make it and me fit into whatever I perceive your cookie cutter mold to be. The grapes don’t have a specific spot in my writing. They go wherever and that’s okay and there’s no worrying over if they’re in the right spot, because there is no right spot. Everywhere is the right spot. There is no overanalyzing facial features and the way someone speaks. It’s simply putting pen to paper.
What I have come to discover in trying to figure out why I write the way I do is that it offers me a respite I find nowhere else. For those moments when I touch pen to paper, I am not stuck in the obsessions and the replaying and the overanazlying.
My therapist spoke to me about meditation. This is my meditation. This is how I can finally release these thoughts I clutch until my fingers turn white or that clutch me until I turn blue. I live my life within such rigid guidelines, so terrified to stray from the path, that it is only in my writing, where I am able, I allow myself, the freedom and the respite to do otherwise, and to, quite frankly, be who I actually am (the whole rebel personality thing).
September 7, 2015
A Hike In The Forest
Writing a book is like taking a hike in a forest. You might have a map, a clearly marked trail, and even signs to point you in the right direction. However, I’ve never been good at reading maps. My curiosity tends to lead me off the trail. And if, by some miracle, I can find or don’t miss the signs, I don’t always want to follow what it says.
If you ask my boyfriend or my mother, they’d probably smirk and remark about how I always have to be the rebel. And there’s a truth to that. From the time I was in kindergarten, I colored outside the lines. Not because I couldn’t stay within them, but because I didn’t like to and I didn’t think I should have to. To this day my socks cannot match.
I do not like to be confined by the rules and the maps and the signs. Even if I am the one creating them. And neither do my characters. They want the same freedom, and quite honestly, are part of what leads me off the path.
Nobody should hike alone, and when you’re writing, you are joined by many companions. For me, they tend to be the leaders in this journey, because muses help me if I deny them that. Marshmallows go missing, as do the chocolate, and graham crackers are too bland to eat alone. Equipment disappears, rocks start flying, and they will not let me rest until I follow along.
Flying by the seat of my pants, or where the characters drag me, is not only simply part of my personality as a whole, but self preservation.
That being said, I’ve started on a new adventure. There are certain requirements to follow, such as word count and deadlines, and I am starting to dabble in some forms of planning. While the characters are taking the lead, they seem as lost as I am. I can’t seem to make sense of the map yet (am I holding it upside down), and it doesn’t help I’m dragging a two ton dragon along.
In short, you should probably never choose me as your hiking buddy.
If you ask my boyfriend or my mother, they’d probably smirk and remark about how I always have to be the rebel. And there’s a truth to that. From the time I was in kindergarten, I colored outside the lines. Not because I couldn’t stay within them, but because I didn’t like to and I didn’t think I should have to. To this day my socks cannot match.
I do not like to be confined by the rules and the maps and the signs. Even if I am the one creating them. And neither do my characters. They want the same freedom, and quite honestly, are part of what leads me off the path.
Nobody should hike alone, and when you’re writing, you are joined by many companions. For me, they tend to be the leaders in this journey, because muses help me if I deny them that. Marshmallows go missing, as do the chocolate, and graham crackers are too bland to eat alone. Equipment disappears, rocks start flying, and they will not let me rest until I follow along.
Flying by the seat of my pants, or where the characters drag me, is not only simply part of my personality as a whole, but self preservation.
That being said, I’ve started on a new adventure. There are certain requirements to follow, such as word count and deadlines, and I am starting to dabble in some forms of planning. While the characters are taking the lead, they seem as lost as I am. I can’t seem to make sense of the map yet (am I holding it upside down), and it doesn’t help I’m dragging a two ton dragon along.
In short, you should probably never choose me as your hiking buddy.
