Monday, May 13, 2013
Pictures Of A New Book: Page Forty Two
Harnessing control of your writing. It's like looking at huge cloud in the eastern sky that's taken on the shape of a duck and telling it to make no changes until you get back with a camera. That isn't thunder in the background. That's God laughing. The adventure of physically penning out my latest book Scrambled Eggs cannot be compared to the second draft being pumped into the flat screen surface of a computer. It's not a battle of the personalities. The textured agreement writer's grow into is the courage to hold true to being the Artist. Constantly I'm locked in conversation. Writers, Poets and friends billowing with laughter when having to explain that writing maps will never make it to a GPS system. A beginning, middle and end has every right to be written differently. In 2002...I killed off a main character in my book Halloween 78 The Blizzard White Canvas. I remember sitting at that computer completely frozen. How dare I take a chance on breaking away from where the original path suggested I play! Was it the wine talking? Or could it have been my confidence level shouting, "You think you're good. Now become great!" Scrambled Eggs is no different than Conversation With The Devil and the five rewrites of Another 1,021 Thoughts. Each time I went in. I came out with a different but better picture. And you wonder where "Perfectionism" comes from? You can't! Don't even think about it! You'll never grow forward! Writing will always take on a different shade of gray. How I feel at the moment cannot be compared to ten minutes from now. My first wife struggled deeply with perfectionism. She was the keeper of a brilliant story called Black Hand Angel. I loved hearing the story come to life. Then come to life. Then come to life. But it never lived. The fact that my imagination still wants to dance with Scrambled Eggs inspires me to believe the best part of the story still hasn't been shared. I do keep true to the skeleton. I know where I am while taking huge chances on character development. I love painting the walls of a coffee shop to the point of craving the black tar and a fresh slice of banana bread to go with it. Interviewing Yoko Ono was like changing the oil in the engine. What she shared and how it was delivered through her amazingly authentic storytelling methodisms laid out a better coat of many colors. Making it part of my book has to happen! Or it will sit in the corner of my thinking process festering like an open wound til it pops. Writing is supposed to be fun. Allow yourself to suck in some air and set free the music your heart has waited a lifetime to paint.
Posted by Arroe at 2:02 PM