Resonance

This week's Willow Creek Folk School (No. 124) - you might want to be on hand right from the beginning at 8pm CST. The opening has some elements that set a theme and resonate throughout. I won't say much more about specific content, but Dr. Kelley will do our Christmas reading from Cather, and I'll bring in a seasonal ballad by a forgotten poet of the Montana High Line. Oh, and poor Charlotte will freeze to death again.

I used the word "resonate" above, and it's one I have thought about a great deal lately in a writerly way. A few days ago I had a discussion with some of my students about outlining, basded on some remarks by the historian, Angie Debo--who hated outlining and advised aspiring historians not to do it. On the other hand, I advise my students to outline early and keep at it, adding, adjusting, scrapping if necessary. It seems to me, though, that the disagreement is based on a false dichotomy which posits compulsive planning on the one hand and freewheeling spontaneity on the other. I do not know that there is such a continuum. I am certain there are things that happen with experienced writers that are on no such continuum. Emergent resonance is one of these, a delight to the writer.

I do not think it is characteristic of novice writers. I noticed it beginning to happen in mid-life, with a long line of published prose already in the rearview mirror. At first I noticed it after completion of, generally after publication of, a work. I would look it over and notice, this phrase, this motif, this sensation, this line of thought, it resonates nicely with this other, earlier thing, and now that I think about it, it runs through the work as a lining or undercurrent occasionally flashing or surfacing. Did I do that on purpose? I don't remember intending it. But was it really inadvertent? Did I unconsciously contrive the resonance? Was it just an unsolicited gift? It began to happen more and more, until now as I begin a serious piece, I just expect it to emerge. But I still don't know how that happens. I do know it is not an accident.

Getting back to the folk school - it has begun to happen there, too. Every week I put together odd pieces in the attempt to fashion a program, and not uncommonly, something emerges, Unexpectedly, stanza 3 of song 2 resonates somehow with the final line of song 1, and then it gets into the flow of things, and in the end, it may look like I planned it. Which I didn't. But it's not an accident.

Last night, doing preps for this week's WCFS, I felt it happening and went with it. Then I sat down, with a little sour mash on ice, to think about it.

WCFS No. 124 - Friday 8pm CST - streaming live from the Salon on Willow Creek - on the Facebook timeline of Plains Folk (facebook.com/plainsfolk)

Order of service - https://docs.google.com/document/d/13EGgrG2bPhxYAVF5FrAFbjYuD4w8kfSoZ3kMNrhKwk8/edit?usp=sharing