Doubt II

What IS writer's block? I used to think it meant "not knowing what to write." I don't believe that anymore. It's got to be more complex than that. The Gotham Writer's Workshop--based in NYC--sends out a newsletter, which often includes a mini-interview with established authors. The first question each author is asked? 'What are some methods for overcoming writer's block?' (I apologize, this is not the question verbatim). Nine times out of ten, these writers will claim that the proverbial 'block' is nonsense. Most will swear it's an invention of the mind. Some say there isn't enough time for writer's block, because there is just too much writing to do.

I have absolutely no reason to doubt them. They've published, sold, gained readers, etc. And quite frankly, I don't think I have it--the 'block' that is. Because, in the current stage of my novel, I know what I want to write. I know what is going to happen next. Usually once I sit down to work on manuscript, new ideas come, old ideas get trashed, the characters' voices take over my thoughts and so on and so on. In this sense, I agree. The best way to cure writer's block is to WRITE! Sit down, and scold yourself. Say, 'you may not get up from this chair for one hour. After that you are free.' Surprise, surprise. Writing gets done.

So, if the lack of flowing ideas is the surface of this awful affliction, I think my current problem goes a few layers deeper. See, I haven't posted on this blog since March 4th. My plight is more complicated. It's doubt, and it's back. I've written about the D word before. It goes something like this...what if my idea doesn't have a place in the current market, what if deep down, my story is total crap, even if I do publish, will anyone care, how many people even read this blog? What do I really want to come from this story? Am I too old? Am I running out of time? Can I call myself a writer if I have virtually nothing to show for it? And then, the big question: Is it even worth it?

I'd write all day if I could. I love it. Plain and simple, that's why I do it. But these questions consistently flow through my mind in a steady stream. I know this much. I will complete my novel. I promised myself I would. So I will. After that....???

What's going on down there?

“When I start on a book, I have been thinking about it and making occasional notes for some time—20 years in the case of Imperial Earth, and 10 years in the case of the novel I’m presently working on. So I have lots of theme, locale, subjects and technical ideas. It’s amazing how the subconscious self works on these things. I don’t worry about long periods of not doing anything. I know my subconscious is busy.”
—Arthur C. Clarke

Lately I've been writing even when I'm not writing. I'll be in the car, the shower, a restaurant, the grocery store, and I'll be completely lost inside my own head, not just thinking about writing, actually writing. The descriptions, the dialogue, the action...all of it. In my head. I'm convinced that I sometimes move my lips along with my thought process. I've often caught total strangers. giving me questionable looks.

The other afternoon I worked tirelessly on revising my novel. When I stopped, I went downstairs to feed my cats. As I stood at the counter, the two of them circling my feet like sharks, suddenly I thought of the perfect thing for character X to say. I slopped the food in their bowls and raced back upstairs. Wrote one extra line of dialogue. Then wound up spending another half-hour at the computer.

I'm even doing it in my sleep. Really. I'll wake from a image-less dream where I hear the flow of a narrator's voice echoing in my mind. It won't necessarily be coherent material. I'm not even sure if its my book. But it's writing. It's definitely writing. Very strange.

New scenes develop out of nowhere. Friday night I saw a news brief about a 90 year man who still owns, runs, and operates his own barbershop. Suddenly I had an idea for a scene in the book. Not a scene, really. A 'clip.' There's a difference. A scene runs at least 700 words (or more), a clip can be under 300. This barbershop notion turned out to be an important clip though. It established an early hint of something that was to come. It worked beautifully.

I think I've been enmeshed with the story long enough now to where this kind of stuff happens on its own. In the beginning, yes, I had to actively seek out inspiration. But the wheels have been turning for nearly a year and a half, and it's true. The subconscious is an amazing tool. I'm beginning to think that so much of writing is to learning to activate this way too often dormant oasis that lies in all of us.

Autonomy

“Writing is like being in love. You never get better at it or learn more about it. The day you think you do is the day you lose it. Robert Frost called his work a lover’s quarrel with the world. It’s ongoing. It has neither a beginning nor an end. You don’t have to worry about learning things. The fire of one’s art burns all the impurities from the vessel that contains it.”
—James Lee Burke

This is essentially true. But as both intrinsic writers and student writers we do learn rules. Lots and lots of rules. Endless rules about characterization, plot, structure, dialogue, thematic undercurrents, and on and on. And yes, there is a basic format to a piece of writing. It has to be organized--this organization takes on many, many, forms, but it still must have a form.

So maybe we can 'learn' things about writing, but it seems like everywhere I look the rules are being broken. Maybe that's why Burke is saying the 'learning process,' in a sense doesn't really exist in writing.

I've heard countless critiques about my characters and their lack of dimensions, yet then I read a published piece in a literary magazine where the characters don't have names, backgrounds, anything. They're shadows who live in a timeless space. Do we learn the rules to ignore them? Or is there a certain recipe to follow regardless?

I think every piece of writing must work in spite of itself. It has to operate in its best capacity as it stands. Any reader can tell when a story, poem, essay has value. It's isolated from every other story, poem, or essay. Maybe once an intrinsic learns all the learns he or she can pick and choose the ones he or she wants to incorporate into the piece.

As a child I learned how to print my letters. Then I learned cursive. Now my handwriting is a unique hybrid of the two. Maybe writing is like that. But then again, I don't really know.