This is actually one of the better articles I've ever read on how to encourage creativity and spark. Of course, your mileage may vary, but rarely is there ever an article that both gives specific, easily-achieved actions as well as room for personal interpretation. I wish it were a little longer and contained a bit more science or explanations as to why this works for the author, but oh well.
Here is the exercise/thought-process:
http://blogs.hbr.org/schwartz/2011/11/how-to-think-creatively.html
Is this similar to what you do, creative folks? Or does something different work better for you? I find when I can get into the rhythm (or "wave" as he calls it), I am feeling my most satisfied creatively. More often than not, life interrupts though.
Rule: Always get out of bed and write that thought down. You know the one. The brilliant one.
Showing posts with label creativity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label creativity. Show all posts
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Visit The Frick Collection
No Title
I'm alone, but it's okay
All around me are inky memories
But the cows, the cows are real.
They low and their calls
Are like blotches absorbing into canvas
Like the way you forget:
Fibers take fluid
Distort and pull apart
Dark reaching out, out
Thoughts spreading into the blank
Maybe,
Maybe I could press my face against the trees
Press my eyes against the sky
Maybe I could vaporize,
Soak the air like the low, lowing of cows.
Rule: Visit The Frick. You just should. Lots of things to inspire.
I really, really thought about titling this "Cows Cows Cows," or "Ink-Cow-Memory Jam," but then I had a bratwurst and I realized that would be absolutely horrible and would drive people to claw their faces off and then try to find me and set me on fire.
Extra rule: Once you've eaten all the bratwurst, there is no more bratwurst. This makes Sandy sad. Like, really sad. Sad enough to create a rule about it.
I'm alone, but it's okay
All around me are inky memories
But the cows, the cows are real.
They low and their calls
Are like blotches absorbing into canvas
Like the way you forget:
Fibers take fluid
Distort and pull apart
Dark reaching out, out
Thoughts spreading into the blank
Maybe,
Maybe I could press my face against the trees
Press my eyes against the sky
Maybe I could vaporize,
Soak the air like the low, lowing of cows.
The Lake by Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot from The Frick Collection
Rule: Visit The Frick. You just should. Lots of things to inspire.
I really, really thought about titling this "Cows Cows Cows," or "Ink-Cow-Memory Jam," but then I had a bratwurst and I realized that would be absolutely horrible and would drive people to claw their faces off and then try to find me and set me on fire.
Extra rule: Once you've eaten all the bratwurst, there is no more bratwurst. This makes Sandy sad. Like, really sad. Sad enough to create a rule about it.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
This is how I feel sometimes about writing
Photo credit.
Rule: Sometimes you are saying "AUGH!" about writing and thinking about writing. This is okay, because it is intimidating.
You're putting your thoughts somewhere kinda permanent (or maybe really permanent - the internet is forever). One day you're going to come back and say to yourself, "Oh my god, that was so tacky/cheesy/awful/incomprehensible/dumb." And as much as you revise it, you can't scrub yourself of that feeling of "Why did I do that? I put my thoughts on paper and this came out? EW MY BRAINS ARE GROSS AND HORRIBLE."
And you know what? They were gross and horrible. I'm not going to give some life-affirming speech about how you're too hard on yourself, you've heard that and you know that. The thing is, it's okay that your brain was gross and horrible. I mean, have you seen the damn thing? Pretty gross. But you recognize it produced something you don't like. So fix it. Improve. Strive for excellence... or in my case, something marginally better than what you had before and add some secret prayer that nobody will notice how hacky your paragraphs are.
So if you are feeling "AUGH!" about writing, you should. Feel the paralysis, the petrification. Then, write something. It will be terrible. Then, THEN make that terrible writing beat on you until you are limber. You are tough meat, and your own bad writing will tenderize you. Brutally. This is ok. You'll loosen up, and words better than the words you had before will come out.
(Hopefully. AUGH!)
Monday, March 7, 2011
Another amazing poem
(Reprinted WITHOUT permission... I hope I don't get sued one of these days)
Antilamentation
by Dorianne Laux
Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read
to the end just to find out who killed the cook, not
the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark,
in spite of your intelligence, your sophistication, not
the lover you left quivering in a hotel parking lot,
the one you beat to the punch line, the door or the one
who left you in your red dress and shoes, the ones
that crimped your toes, don't regret those.
Not the nights you called god names and cursed
your mother, sunk like a dog in the living room couch,
chewing your nails and crushed by loneliness.
You were meant to inhale those smoky nights
over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings
across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed
coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches.
You've walked those streets a thousand times and still
you end up here. Regret none of it, not one
of the wasted days you wanted to know nothing,
when the lights from the carnival rides
were the only stars you believed in, loving them
for their uselessness, not wanting to be saved.
You've traveled this far on the back of every mistake,
ridden in dark-eyed and morose but calm as a house
after the TV set has been pitched out the window.
Harmless as a broken ax. Emptied of expectation.
Relax. Don't bother remembering any of it. Let's stop here,
under the lit sign on the corner, and watch all the people walk by.
"Antilamentation" by Dorianne Laux, from The Book of Men. © W. W. Norton & Company, 2011.
Rule: Okay, this isn't really a rule, but I'm getting my daily dose of poetry from "The Writer's Almanac," which is the e-newsletter from Garrison Keillor, of "A Prairie Home Companion" fame. I highly recommend subscribing to it, to get more reading of awesome stuff into your life. Then again, you might be reading that week's post from me. Oh well. My favorite lines are "You were meant to inhale those smoky nights / over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings / across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed / coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches."
Antilamentation
by Dorianne Laux
Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read
to the end just to find out who killed the cook, not
the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark,
in spite of your intelligence, your sophistication, not
the lover you left quivering in a hotel parking lot,
the one you beat to the punch line, the door or the one
who left you in your red dress and shoes, the ones
that crimped your toes, don't regret those.
Not the nights you called god names and cursed
your mother, sunk like a dog in the living room couch,
chewing your nails and crushed by loneliness.
You were meant to inhale those smoky nights
over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings
across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed
coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches.
You've walked those streets a thousand times and still
you end up here. Regret none of it, not one
of the wasted days you wanted to know nothing,
when the lights from the carnival rides
were the only stars you believed in, loving them
for their uselessness, not wanting to be saved.
You've traveled this far on the back of every mistake,
ridden in dark-eyed and morose but calm as a house
after the TV set has been pitched out the window.
Harmless as a broken ax. Emptied of expectation.
Relax. Don't bother remembering any of it. Let's stop here,
under the lit sign on the corner, and watch all the people walk by.
"Antilamentation" by Dorianne Laux, from The Book of Men. © W. W. Norton & Company, 2011.
Rule: Okay, this isn't really a rule, but I'm getting my daily dose of poetry from "The Writer's Almanac," which is the e-newsletter from Garrison Keillor, of "A Prairie Home Companion" fame. I highly recommend subscribing to it, to get more reading of awesome stuff into your life. Then again, you might be reading that week's post from me. Oh well. My favorite lines are "You were meant to inhale those smoky nights / over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings / across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed / coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches."
Monday, November 22, 2010
A (not) Brief Analysis
Hi Guys!
So remember this post and this post on creativity and life-balance?
I've thought about it a lot, and thought about what makes me tick, personally. And here is some honesty. Get ready for some crazy too, as I think I'm getting a little sick.
I love to help people and make them smile. I really love it. I think it alternates between genuine altruism and loving to make people happy (happy people are fun people) and a selfish desire to make my friends an exclusive club that everybody wants to get into because they're so damn happy all the time. The result is, however, that I over-commit to a lot of things. Taking people out to dinner, shopping for pick-me-up presents, cooking meals, hosting parties, coming up with lots of energy to energize others, revving people up to go out because they feel like they're in a rut, seeing my friends on an individual basis and really listening to them, spending quality time with my significant other, spending silly time with my significant other, etc.
I also love to show off. Who doesn't? Praise is awesome, and being able to display things that you're good at gives you encouragement to go forth and do more. The result here is the same, I over-commit. Usually it's on a micro level - making too many things for a meal, or things that are too complicated - but sometimes it's on a macro level, trying to solve everybody's problems all at once. This leads me to making meals for everyone but myself, doing other peoples' work at work and not getting any of my own done, that kind of stuff. They say that pride cometh before a fall, but it's really more like pride cometh before you turn into an empty, hollow shell who's eating a giant bucket of popcorn for dinner in pajamas and bathrobe while making whimpery noises and wondering why it's cold in the house.
I want to improve myself over time, not stagnate. I have this crippling anxiety of becoming boring and everybody thinks I'm lame and nobody wants to hang out with me ever again because I'm no longer funny, clever, helpful, supportive, or that last dish I made was sucky. No, don't reassure me that I'm awesome (ok you can if you want). Trust me, this is something that needs to be addressed by a mental health professional, as it's deeply embedded. When I was younger, with more significant troubles in my life, I was alone a lot outside of school. That gave me a lot of time to read, be smart, think of funny things, and daydream. This is a pattern that I fell into as a defense mechanism that has now become the type of thing that recharges me. Now that I'm an adult, and much of those troubles are behind me, I have a much more packed social schedule, and that recharge pattern is less available. Then occasionally, somebody at a party will say something totally witty and I'll laugh my butt off, and my brain will do this:
"HAHAHAHHA that was so hilarious HAHAHAHA- oh god why am i not that funny i am deficient oh geez quick i need to read something smart somebody hand me a biology textbook or a calculus problem"
Plus stagnate is a yucky word. It sounds like some sort of unwanted bodily fluid, or something stinky that comes from the fermentation of sewer goop that Ferran Adria will science into something delicious and spherical at some point in 2015.
I want to surround myself with loved ones. Again, this is kind of a no-brainer. I don't want to lose touch or relevance with the people I really admire and love, and who also really care about me. This means - as my friends happen to be scattered all over - I spend a lot of time sleeping on planes and buses, spending money, vacation hours, and brain-energy, and physical energy. Sometimes they come see me. All of which rules. I'm definitely not complaining. However, this means I get home and there's a ton of laundry, I have no food, I have no money, and my bathroom is a crazy haven for cave crickets, which are like terrifying jumpy spider things. Seriously terrifying get out of my house why are you in my house i hate you.
This is what I came up with:
Rule: Secure your own mask before assisting others.
They say during the portion of airplane flights when you're trying to figure out how to fit your personal pizza, your bottled water, and that stupid magazine you bought into that pocket in front of you. I think the announcement is supposed to be calming or something. The idea is if something bad happens and you have no oxygen, these colostomy bags fall out of the ceiling and you put them on your face. Or... oxygen thingies? Either way, they're supposed to make you not asphyxiate. You put them on your own face before putting other ones on other peoples' faces. This is because if you're running out of oxygen, you get all loopy, panicky, and floppy, and it's really unattractive. ALSO, makes you really bad at putting masks on other people. Really, nobody wants any of that.
This is true of life. First you gotta put the colostomy bag on your face. Then you're like a superhero. Is it getting hot in here? *thud*
I'm back! I'm up. It's fine.
Point is, everybody wants you to be the best you can be; you should want that too. Doing things that recharge you will make all these other things much easier. Artificially producing creativity, support, or knowledge is basically mentally forcing it. And as with poops, it's unsatisfying, exhausting, potentially painful, and sometimes shooty.
Those are my thoughts. Hopefully they weren't too shooty.
So remember this post and this post on creativity and life-balance?
I've thought about it a lot, and thought about what makes me tick, personally. And here is some honesty. Get ready for some crazy too, as I think I'm getting a little sick.
I love to help people and make them smile. I really love it. I think it alternates between genuine altruism and loving to make people happy (happy people are fun people) and a selfish desire to make my friends an exclusive club that everybody wants to get into because they're so damn happy all the time. The result is, however, that I over-commit to a lot of things. Taking people out to dinner, shopping for pick-me-up presents, cooking meals, hosting parties, coming up with lots of energy to energize others, revving people up to go out because they feel like they're in a rut, seeing my friends on an individual basis and really listening to them, spending quality time with my significant other, spending silly time with my significant other, etc.
I also love to show off. Who doesn't? Praise is awesome, and being able to display things that you're good at gives you encouragement to go forth and do more. The result here is the same, I over-commit. Usually it's on a micro level - making too many things for a meal, or things that are too complicated - but sometimes it's on a macro level, trying to solve everybody's problems all at once. This leads me to making meals for everyone but myself, doing other peoples' work at work and not getting any of my own done, that kind of stuff. They say that pride cometh before a fall, but it's really more like pride cometh before you turn into an empty, hollow shell who's eating a giant bucket of popcorn for dinner in pajamas and bathrobe while making whimpery noises and wondering why it's cold in the house.
I want to improve myself over time, not stagnate. I have this crippling anxiety of becoming boring and everybody thinks I'm lame and nobody wants to hang out with me ever again because I'm no longer funny, clever, helpful, supportive, or that last dish I made was sucky. No, don't reassure me that I'm awesome (ok you can if you want). Trust me, this is something that needs to be addressed by a mental health professional, as it's deeply embedded. When I was younger, with more significant troubles in my life, I was alone a lot outside of school. That gave me a lot of time to read, be smart, think of funny things, and daydream. This is a pattern that I fell into as a defense mechanism that has now become the type of thing that recharges me. Now that I'm an adult, and much of those troubles are behind me, I have a much more packed social schedule, and that recharge pattern is less available. Then occasionally, somebody at a party will say something totally witty and I'll laugh my butt off, and my brain will do this:
"HAHAHAHHA that was so hilarious HAHAHAHA- oh god why am i not that funny i am deficient oh geez quick i need to read something smart somebody hand me a biology textbook or a calculus problem"
Plus stagnate is a yucky word. It sounds like some sort of unwanted bodily fluid, or something stinky that comes from the fermentation of sewer goop that Ferran Adria will science into something delicious and spherical at some point in 2015.
[credit: unknown, someone help me out] This is giraffe threads with spherified stagnate and cheese gel.
I want to surround myself with loved ones. Again, this is kind of a no-brainer. I don't want to lose touch or relevance with the people I really admire and love, and who also really care about me. This means - as my friends happen to be scattered all over - I spend a lot of time sleeping on planes and buses, spending money, vacation hours, and brain-energy, and physical energy. Sometimes they come see me. All of which rules. I'm definitely not complaining. However, this means I get home and there's a ton of laundry, I have no food, I have no money, and my bathroom is a crazy haven for cave crickets, which are like terrifying jumpy spider things. Seriously terrifying get out of my house why are you in my house i hate you.
This is what I came up with:
Rule: Secure your own mask before assisting others.
They say during the portion of airplane flights when you're trying to figure out how to fit your personal pizza, your bottled water, and that stupid magazine you bought into that pocket in front of you. I think the announcement is supposed to be calming or something. The idea is if something bad happens and you have no oxygen, these colostomy bags fall out of the ceiling and you put them on your face. Or... oxygen thingies? Either way, they're supposed to make you not asphyxiate. You put them on your own face before putting other ones on other peoples' faces. This is because if you're running out of oxygen, you get all loopy, panicky, and floppy, and it's really unattractive. ALSO, makes you really bad at putting masks on other people. Really, nobody wants any of that.
This is true of life. First you gotta put the colostomy bag on your face. Then you're like a superhero. Is it getting hot in here? *thud*
I'm back! I'm up. It's fine.
Point is, everybody wants you to be the best you can be; you should want that too. Doing things that recharge you will make all these other things much easier. Artificially producing creativity, support, or knowledge is basically mentally forcing it. And as with poops, it's unsatisfying, exhausting, potentially painful, and sometimes shooty.
Those are my thoughts. Hopefully they weren't too shooty.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Pre-populate, and your life will become easier
Hey All!
I have a lovely friend who has a lovely blog with excellent writing. Her name is Elizabeth Downie, and this is her blog. I'm usually laughing my head off reading her posts, so I thought I'd ask her for some tips and tricks in an interview!
(Fancy, huh? This way, I don't have to come up with my own content! Woohoo!)
Me: Hi, Elizabeth! First of all, I want to say that I think your blog is super fun to read, and that I'm glad you decided to write it! Why don't we start by having you tell our readers why you started your blog?
Elizabeth: I needed a creative outlet. I enjoy my job but it allows me no creativity! I've always enjoyed writing and making people laugh. Blogging is a good way to combine the two! I was nervous about starting a blog - that's something I don't tell too many people. I was afraid it was vain for me to assume anyone would care what I had to say. But after about two posts, I was hooked. And I completely changed my mind about blogging being vanity. Blogging is about sharing our lives with each other, staying connected, and giving us something to read when we're bored at work.
Me: What do you think makes a great story?
Elizabeth: I think a great story is one where you can picture what the person is telling you about and relate to what they're saying. I try to make my stories relatable. I live a really fast paced, Hollywood lifestyle though so it's not easy. But I try to remind people that I'm really just like them and there's no reason to be nervous around me.
Me: Who among your friends or family is your favorite storyteller?
Elizabeth: My family is full of story tellers, especially my uncles (on both sides of my family). Family get togethers are always full of hilarious stories, with a
little bit of exaggeration thrown in here and there to spice things up. It's hard for me to choose one! They all crack me up.
Me: You use a lot of humor in your posts; you always have me laughing! How do you turn an ordinary story into a hilarious story?
Elizabeth: First of all, thanks! Secondly, I always try to find the humor in whatever situation I'm in. Sometimes it's not easy. Life is hard, and we can either laugh or cry, right? When it comes to what I write in my blog, I choose to laugh. I save the crying for later. I use my blog as a place to think positively - I never want to write anything in it that would bum people out. That gives me the opportunity to think about what happened and find the humor in it. Usually I can do that by laughing at myself, and poking fun at the things I do.
Me: Who are other bloggers who you think tell excellent stories?
Elizabeth: I love my friend Sara's blog. She is a great writer and photographer, and the combination of the two make her blog completely charming. (http://wandercraft.blogspot.com/). I have a long list of blogs I follow on my side bar and I read every post those bloggers write. I love reading about my friends and family's lives and am always thrilled to see an updated blog!
Me: How do you deal with really tough stories? The ones that are sad, personal, or scary?
Elizabeth: Most of the time I don't write about those, but when I occasionally do, I try to just be me and be honest. It's scary putting stuff out there. And those types of posts get the fewest comments which makes a blogger feel even more insecure. But if I feel I need to say it, I just say it. You have to be true to yourself as a blogger. When you are, your readers will know what they can expect from you.
Me: Any tips for budding storytellers?
Elizabeth: Be yourself. Think about what makes you you - do you love your dog? Do you love to read? Do you love sports? What is it that makes you you? Think about that and let that guide you as you write in your blog. Your passion and honestly will draw people in and make them want to get to know you more.
Thank you for giving me the chance to answer these questions, Sandy! I feel so honored that you asked. I hope it's what you were looking for. :) See you in the blogosphere. ;)
Thank you, Elizabeth! So there you have it, tips from an amazing storyteller and all-around classy lady.
Rule: Have classy ladies in your life; it makes things better. Also, do check out Elizabeth's blog, because it's pretty awesome! If you have any other thoughts on storytelling, leave 'em in the comments. I would love to read them.
I have a lovely friend who has a lovely blog with excellent writing. Her name is Elizabeth Downie, and this is her blog. I'm usually laughing my head off reading her posts, so I thought I'd ask her for some tips and tricks in an interview!
(Fancy, huh? This way, I don't have to come up with my own content! Woohoo!)
Me: Hi, Elizabeth! First of all, I want to say that I think your blog is super fun to read, and that I'm glad you decided to write it! Why don't we start by having you tell our readers why you started your blog?
Elizabeth: I needed a creative outlet. I enjoy my job but it allows me no creativity! I've always enjoyed writing and making people laugh. Blogging is a good way to combine the two! I was nervous about starting a blog - that's something I don't tell too many people. I was afraid it was vain for me to assume anyone would care what I had to say. But after about two posts, I was hooked. And I completely changed my mind about blogging being vanity. Blogging is about sharing our lives with each other, staying connected, and giving us something to read when we're bored at work.
Me: What do you think makes a great story?
Elizabeth: I think a great story is one where you can picture what the person is telling you about and relate to what they're saying. I try to make my stories relatable. I live a really fast paced, Hollywood lifestyle though so it's not easy. But I try to remind people that I'm really just like them and there's no reason to be nervous around me.
Me: Who among your friends or family is your favorite storyteller?
Elizabeth: My family is full of story tellers, especially my uncles (on both sides of my family). Family get togethers are always full of hilarious stories, with a
little bit of exaggeration thrown in here and there to spice things up. It's hard for me to choose one! They all crack me up.
Me: You use a lot of humor in your posts; you always have me laughing! How do you turn an ordinary story into a hilarious story?
Elizabeth: First of all, thanks! Secondly, I always try to find the humor in whatever situation I'm in. Sometimes it's not easy. Life is hard, and we can either laugh or cry, right? When it comes to what I write in my blog, I choose to laugh. I save the crying for later. I use my blog as a place to think positively - I never want to write anything in it that would bum people out. That gives me the opportunity to think about what happened and find the humor in it. Usually I can do that by laughing at myself, and poking fun at the things I do.
Me: Who are other bloggers who you think tell excellent stories?
Elizabeth: I love my friend Sara's blog. She is a great writer and photographer, and the combination of the two make her blog completely charming. (http://wandercraft.blogspot.com/). I have a long list of blogs I follow on my side bar and I read every post those bloggers write. I love reading about my friends and family's lives and am always thrilled to see an updated blog!
Me: How do you deal with really tough stories? The ones that are sad, personal, or scary?
Elizabeth: Most of the time I don't write about those, but when I occasionally do, I try to just be me and be honest. It's scary putting stuff out there. And those types of posts get the fewest comments which makes a blogger feel even more insecure. But if I feel I need to say it, I just say it. You have to be true to yourself as a blogger. When you are, your readers will know what they can expect from you.
Me: Any tips for budding storytellers?
Elizabeth: Be yourself. Think about what makes you you - do you love your dog? Do you love to read? Do you love sports? What is it that makes you you? Think about that and let that guide you as you write in your blog. Your passion and honestly will draw people in and make them want to get to know you more.
Thank you for giving me the chance to answer these questions, Sandy! I feel so honored that you asked. I hope it's what you were looking for. :) See you in the blogosphere. ;)
Thank you, Elizabeth! So there you have it, tips from an amazing storyteller and all-around classy lady.
Rule: Have classy ladies in your life; it makes things better. Also, do check out Elizabeth's blog, because it's pretty awesome! If you have any other thoughts on storytelling, leave 'em in the comments. I would love to read them.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Critiquing/Revision time
So, that last post that I posted was definitely not a shining gem. I figured I'd take you along for the thrill ride of a first revision. Now, this is how I would critique any work, and this may not be your style, or a recommended style, but this is how I do. Hope you find it interesting.
It's about to storm outside. The hall smells like warm licorice. It's overwhelming this sentence really describes nothing. The weight of the air feels like a bed sheet. The kind that diffuses light in the morning and my eyelashes brush against it as I blink myself awake not sure if this is a good analogy.
Outside, there is the metallic smell of earth, and the sweet smell of vegetation. Water makes everything bolder, fearless switch with next sentence, also, this needs to be less of a command. The scent of the outdoors gets stronger when it gets wet, as it absorbs, breathes, comes to life. The smell gets into your upper sinuses - a cloud that floats into your brain and hangs there is this an exciting sentence?. Water atoms glide around each other, stirring thoughts what thoughts? why? we need a hint of the thoughts.
I have a headache that sits like an animal at the back of my skull. It sulks there, cold and shuddering where my spine connects with my brain stem conflicted about the use of official terms vs vernacular. I'm re-reading The Secret Garden and imagine this rain on the garden. Plump, warm drops enriching the secret. Whispering on each leaf and then what? The Secret Garden goes nowhere. Perhaps these are the thoughts that are being stirred?. When I breathe the storm-pregnant air, it makes me excited for the coming release release of what? need a hint.. It feels like I've swallowed something cottony but rich MOAR DESCRIPTION PLZ. New paragraph It is as though I have walked to the back of my mouth, and I am looking down the sheer cliff of my throat, straight down into the pit of my stomach, and in it, I see life, that hot and glowing brick I don't know if I buy this description. I am exhilarated by the height, the thought of the drop. I imagine this is how raindrops feel: air rushing by their round faces, the thrilling fall, the eager anticipation to be accepted completely by the earth Good sentence, but must scrap. Not what the narrator is concerned about.
The piece has a lot of description and few crucial mini-subjects/points. They are the stirred thoughts, the headache, the secret garden, and the obvious life-examination. None of these points are linked, and none of them are fully explained. Perhaps the headache that occurred during the writing of this caused that, but now the headache is gone and it's time to cut and figure out what the real message or feeling this piece is supposed to convey. Take out the "stirring thoughts" portion; it's obvious that the narrator is thinking, and there's no reason for that to be in there. Expand on the Secret Garden or take it out completely. It seems as though this might have been just a passing thought that has no relevance to the whole. The main point of the piece seems to be the last paragraph about the exhilaration of life, and how the narrator comes alive with thought and examination just as nature comes alive when it rains. It seems to be a piece about marveling and possibly reveling, and less about relationships; which makes the last sentence incongruous. Main thoughts: cut out a lot of stuff, figure out the real point, because it seems as though the piece was just rambling to figure out the real point/what the narrator is thinking or wants to say, which starts to show itself near the end.
Rule: Revise your stuff. Read Annie Dillard. Then revise your stuff again.
It's about to storm outside. The hall smells like warm licorice. It's overwhelming this sentence really describes nothing. The weight of the air feels like a bed sheet. The kind that diffuses light in the morning and my eyelashes brush against it as I blink myself awake not sure if this is a good analogy.
Outside, there is the metallic smell of earth, and the sweet smell of vegetation. Water makes everything bolder, fearless switch with next sentence, also, this needs to be less of a command. The scent of the outdoors gets stronger when it gets wet, as it absorbs, breathes, comes to life. The smell gets into your upper sinuses - a cloud that floats into your brain and hangs there is this an exciting sentence?. Water atoms glide around each other, stirring thoughts what thoughts? why? we need a hint of the thoughts.
I have a headache that sits like an animal at the back of my skull. It sulks there, cold and shuddering where my spine connects with my brain stem conflicted about the use of official terms vs vernacular. I'm re-reading The Secret Garden and imagine this rain on the garden. Plump, warm drops enriching the secret. Whispering on each leaf and then what? The Secret Garden goes nowhere. Perhaps these are the thoughts that are being stirred?. When I breathe the storm-pregnant air, it makes me excited for the coming release release of what? need a hint.. It feels like I've swallowed something cottony but rich MOAR DESCRIPTION PLZ. New paragraph It is as though I have walked to the back of my mouth, and I am looking down the sheer cliff of my throat, straight down into the pit of my stomach, and in it, I see life, that hot and glowing brick I don't know if I buy this description. I am exhilarated by the height, the thought of the drop. I imagine this is how raindrops feel: air rushing by their round faces, the thrilling fall, the eager anticipation to be accepted completely by the earth Good sentence, but must scrap. Not what the narrator is concerned about.
The piece has a lot of description and few crucial mini-subjects/points. They are the stirred thoughts, the headache, the secret garden, and the obvious life-examination. None of these points are linked, and none of them are fully explained. Perhaps the headache that occurred during the writing of this caused that, but now the headache is gone and it's time to cut and figure out what the real message or feeling this piece is supposed to convey. Take out the "stirring thoughts" portion; it's obvious that the narrator is thinking, and there's no reason for that to be in there. Expand on the Secret Garden or take it out completely. It seems as though this might have been just a passing thought that has no relevance to the whole. The main point of the piece seems to be the last paragraph about the exhilaration of life, and how the narrator comes alive with thought and examination just as nature comes alive when it rains. It seems to be a piece about marveling and possibly reveling, and less about relationships; which makes the last sentence incongruous. Main thoughts: cut out a lot of stuff, figure out the real point, because it seems as though the piece was just rambling to figure out the real point/what the narrator is thinking or wants to say, which starts to show itself near the end.
Rule: Revise your stuff. Read Annie Dillard. Then revise your stuff again.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Head on keyboard
Rule: Write in the morning. Or failing that, because we all have day jobs and not everybody's a morning person, get adequate amounts of sleep. It's different for everybody. Most importantly, don't spend half your night doing one type of creative thing that expect to conjure enough brain power to write properly.
WHYYYYYYYYYYy am I so tired? WHYYYYYYYYYY?? I'm beginning to think I have some sort of thyroid issue. But it isn't swollen, so I don't know what's going on. Did you know your thyroid is in your neck? I don't really feel like there's a lot in my neck. A tube for food and drink, a tube for air, a tube for demons. Turns out there's other junk like glands.
So in other news, I'm having breakfast for dinner because I'm lazy and sleepy. Tomorrow, however, I believe I'm going to make a pecan pie.
BAM that's what I'm gonna eat. Eggs over easy on Muenster on toast. I'm going to eat it like this: pick up like a pizza. Eat all the white and cheese and toast portion. Nibble around yolk portion to get as close as possible without breaking the yolk. Do a couple rounds of nervous nibbling. Shove the yolk and cheese and toast portion completely into mouth (now you understand the nibbles). Enjoy the runny and creamy yolk, combining with the buttery cheese, on top of the crunchy toast. All the flavors completely conserved in the mouth. Yes, it is as grostesque and ridiculous as it appears.
On top of it all, I've been reading a lot of Failbooking.com and it turns out, my feeds are not as interesting or offensive. You win some, you lose some. Off to bed or else this will get our of control.
WHYYYYYYYYYYy am I so tired? WHYYYYYYYYYY?? I'm beginning to think I have some sort of thyroid issue. But it isn't swollen, so I don't know what's going on. Did you know your thyroid is in your neck? I don't really feel like there's a lot in my neck. A tube for food and drink, a tube for air, a tube for demons. Turns out there's other junk like glands.
So in other news, I'm having breakfast for dinner because I'm lazy and sleepy. Tomorrow, however, I believe I'm going to make a pecan pie.
BAM that's what I'm gonna eat. Eggs over easy on Muenster on toast. I'm going to eat it like this: pick up like a pizza. Eat all the white and cheese and toast portion. Nibble around yolk portion to get as close as possible without breaking the yolk. Do a couple rounds of nervous nibbling. Shove the yolk and cheese and toast portion completely into mouth (now you understand the nibbles). Enjoy the runny and creamy yolk, combining with the buttery cheese, on top of the crunchy toast. All the flavors completely conserved in the mouth. Yes, it is as grostesque and ridiculous as it appears.
On top of it all, I've been reading a lot of Failbooking.com and it turns out, my feeds are not as interesting or offensive. You win some, you lose some. Off to bed or else this will get our of control.
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