Tag Archives: writing practice

Ghosts Taking Form

Posted on by
Reply

As a kid, when the family would take a drive through Logan Canyon to take a hike or visit Bear Lake, I’d look through the back passenger side window taking in the mountain range trying to focus in on a distant rock formation or far off solitary tree. Today, in Tennessee, I found myself doing the same thing as the folks and I traveled down the Cherokee National Forest road.

A part of me thought, as I did when I was a kid, that if I focused hard enough that possibly the ghosts of those that walked the land would appear hidden between flashing trunks and limbs. That maybe, those ghosts of past, present, and future would tell me their story, giving me some insights on new paths I might explore within their shadows, but they only sent whispers and being in a fast moving car, those whispers were lost on the wind.

Cherokee National Forest, a section of the Appalachian Trail

Nature has always been a huge component in my writing. Glimpsing a landscape, characters come into mind. I see the imaginary walking within reality. Usually it’s mere glimpses and it takes me a ridiculous amount of time to take those ghosts and give them substance on the page. To hear their words clear as day.

To hear them again, as I did when I was a kid, is going to take a lot more practice as an adult. Practice at seeing, listening, and taking note. For some reason it’s more difficult as an adult. Too many other issues muffling the sound of the ghosts around me, too much focus on self and individual direction. Hence the need for practice to imagine and see an “other”.

Making today’s journey a great reminder as to why I’m attempting this experiment of writing 20 minutes a day. It doesn’t matter what I write, as long as I write. It doesn’t matter what I write in (this blog, my journal, my day planner, my phone, the back of a crumpled receipt), it matters that I write! That I write something other than that which seems to be hindering me as of late, and instead that which inspires.

Possibly Tennessee’s scenery is exactly what I need to bring me back to the kid that loved to look off into the distance and see. I must say, this region is spectacular for star gazing. Finding myself late at night, staring into the far off sky able to see the farthest stars dancing with each other in the night. The stars are so clear here that I finally was able to see with my natural eyes the two stars that name two of the main characters of my novel. Seeing those stars sparked the reaction to grab that novel out of the box and begin working on it again.

With continued practice, I can only hope that those characters will begin walking next to me again, or sit by my side in the car as I look upon new views and scenery. This time, instead of whispering, I hope they will begin shouting. Ghosts taking form.

Who Said Writing is Solitary?

Posted on by
1

Writing in my journal yesterday, I thought of the misconceived notion that writing is a solitary event. Yes, a writer is typically set alone placing pen to paper or cursor to screen, attempting to write something profound or at least something that might be read. But therein lies the rub, writers words want/need to be read. The act of writing is not singular, it’s a partnership. A partnership we so readily want to forgo for some reason.

Think about it. For a writer to even begin writing they need an idea. This idea typically comes from an interaction either with the world or an individual within the world they live. The words are set to the page and then in one way or another, reviewed by another person in order for the revision process to take place. This is when the “story” takes shape, as if every book has gone through its own Darwinian process of evolution to become that which is placed on a shelf to be examined more thoroughly.

No published book is ever printed before it has been passed through the hands of multiple people: writer, agent, editor, publisher, the list goes on. The reason for this, is the hope that millions more will want to interact/become immersed in the words. Yet, even when that book hits the booksellers shelf, the process is not complete. Once in the hands of the readers, the book takes on new forms. It is mixed with the life knowledge of each and every reader, which builds the story from one of static words on a page to that of ideas, images, views toward meaning, likes and dislikes.

Writing, therefore, is not solitary but a team effort.

And the team is needed for any development to occur.

Why am I thinking about this? Because I realized that this presents an issue in blog writing and even journal writing. It seems I have abandoned the team, and set out, may I add aimlessly, on my own.

Each post in this blog is for lack of a better phrase, MY thoughts of the day. It’s a more concrete journal of MY reflections, and until comments start popping up on the feedback section, it will continue to be MY solitary views set upon a void in the ethernet. I have had little interaction with others to truly prompt what I write. (Though I will say, as I’m reading Ursula K Le Guin’s book No Time to Spare, there may be a bit of reflection with another writers thoughts prompting my own.) No one is truly directing the direction this blog takes. So why is it a shock to me that when I arrive back at the screen the next day, I see a limited visitor count? This shouldn’t be a surprise to me, it takes time to build the trust of others and develop that team camaraderie.

Blog writing takes time alone. It takes development not only of the posts but of the actual site (which I still need to figure out). It takes your own thinking that you have something others want to read. And right now, I’m not sure if you do want to read what I’m writing. I don’t know if you want to be part of the team. I feel a bit as though I’m back in elementary, middle, or high school wanting to create stories, but constantly being told my writing isn’t good enough.

This is a mental battle I’ve faced for quite a while now. As a person who loves to tell stories, having years of people with authority saying I’d never be able to do it, makes it that much more of a struggle. I guess you could say, I’m a defiant person by nature, but I also hate getting in trouble, and therefore like to follow authorities rules. It’s a paradox.

Their reasoning, at the time, was sound. My spelling was and is appalling. I had little knowledge of grammar rules, but that might have been because they stopped focusing on teaching grammar when I was eight. And, as is the case with everyone, my vocabulary could use a bit of development. I recognize my weaknesses, but I continually surround myself with the tools to get me around them.

Authority focused on my weaknesses, rather than my strengths. But I always told my students, “Recognize your weaknesses, but develop your strengths.” My strength has always been, and I hope it continues to be, my willingness to share my work. To share in the process of development. To allow another to say to me, “this makes no sense, can you clarify?” To share in the reflection and understanding of ideas.

Which brings me back to this blog. Currently, I am encompassing the misconceived notion that writing is a solitary event. I sit alone at my computer, cursor flashing against the screen, with it screaming back at me, do you really think anyone wants to read this? What do you have to share? My writing is not an attempt to be profound. I know you have to muddle through the mundane to ever think of getting to something that reflects the profound. Each post is my willingness to wade through of the mundane, to overcome my weaknesses, with the hope that one day my team will arrive and together we build a partnership that reaches the moment when together we exclaim, “Damn! Now that says something.”