in which i wax poetic about the love of my life
This is something I found half-written in my GMail box, so I finished it and now you get to read it. Yay you!
I was talking to Rance yesterday a few weeks ago via the wonder that is GChat (there are days when it's the only that gets me through the workday without committing murder). We were discussing stories and writing. I've been working on a new little something the past couple of nights weeks, and he's started a new story himself.
I made the statement that, if one were to get me started, I could talk about writing for HOURS. And I can. I could gush on and on about how much I love writing, and let me count the ways.
So I've been thinking about my writing since then. I've been walking around with one of those happy little knowing smiles on my face that usually are born of far naughtier things because of it.
Anyway. I've gotten off track already. Where was I? Oh yeah, writing.
For as long as I can remember, I've been writing. Even before I started to write down the stories that I told myself constantly, I was writing stories in my head. I always used to tell myself bedtime stories, even after my parents stopped doing it. They were mostly childish fantasies of living large, or being able to fly, or being a secret princess, but they were stories nonetheless. And really, what do you expect of a six-year-old?
In high school, I started to write fanfiction. Yeah, I was one of those kids, sitting in the corner scribbling away about people I didn't create. I was ridiculously prolific, but I never really inflicted much of it on the interwebs. (Thank the great Godtopus.) (And no, I will not tell you where you can find what I did inflict upon the interwebs.) Looking back, I see it as a good writing exercise. I learned characterization writing fanfic, because I always tried to keep the characters within the canon of the show--I wasn't one of those people who wrote (or read) slash, or bent characters entirely to her will so that they became unrecognizable. I tortured the hell out of them, for I always was an angst-puppy, but I tried really hard to maintain character. If you don't, then what's really the point?
And yeah, I had my little Mary Sue character, but she eventually grew out of that. Or perhaps I did, but she took on a life of her own, shortly after I first put her to page. She could probably still be considered highly MS even in later stories after she evolved, but once I realized what that meant, I worked to keep her from at least doing too many overtly MS things, if that makes sense. I still love that girl. I have no shame.
Anyway, I'd forgotten just how writing makes me feel over the past few months... ok, over the past year or so. My writing has come and gone over the past few years, since I got out of college. I just haven't been making the time for it that I really should. I haven't been taking it seriously. But it's been worse the past year, since Dad died. I can't really explain why, considering all the things that writing does for me, but I haven't been much inspired. For a while I felt like I totally lost the knack for it. My muse had abandoned ship, the well had run dry, I was in my own personal hell, etc etc etc.
And I've missed it. I've really missed writing, coming up with random little bits of dialogue that evolve into whole stories, having little images pop into my head, characters showing up out of the blue, practically fully formed and insisting that I listen to them, like, NOW. I've missed sitting and contemplating what should happen next, which word fits perfectly into this phrase, I've missed being able to say "I wrote a few pages last night," I've missed being able to say "I had a new idea last night."
Writing is therapy for me. It took me a long time to realize that, but it's how I get everything out. I dump it all on my characters. I torture the hell out of them, with tragedy and angst and death and horrific things, and that makes me happy. Writing, for me, is the ultimate catharsis. Without it, I'm fairly certain I'd have gone entirely insane by now.
Writing makes me happy. I haven't been as gleeful or content as I have been the last few weeks in longer than I care to remember. I feel more like myself when I've got something in the works. I feel whole, and right, and good when I'm writing. It is really the best thing in the world. I can't think of anything better than getting lost in a story, of having to physically slow my thoughts so that my pen can keep up (because, yeah, writing longhand is my favorite way to write. I get so distracted when I'm trying to write on the computer. So I end up having to transcribe everything).
And now we're starting a little writing group. There's just five of us involved, and we're going to keep it tiny and informal. I'm so excited about this--seriously, I think the best word to describe how I feel about the whole thing is "giddy". I love having feedback on my stories, and other writers are the best place to get real feedback.
Don't get me wrong, I love hearing from my friends, because I'm a consummate feedback whore.
I love being told that I'm good, mostly because it confirms my conviction that writing is the one thing I actually am good at. However, peer review and encouragement from another writer are different. I'm looking forward to having this little group to chat with about writing, and I'm looking forward to both encouraging them to keep going and to work on getting published, and to getting that encouragement from them as well.
I'm looking forward to getting my stories torn to shreds. Maybe that makes me masochistic, but I firmly believe that this is the only real way I can improve. Sure, my writing will evolve over time on its own, as long as I'm writing. But peer review will point out those places I'm weakest much faster, and will help me strengthen them as well.
At least, that's the idea.
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:)
My daughter was putting stuff up there when she was 14 and having people critique her work was kind of hard at first, but it was also a boost for her having people make her job offers, telling her to stop going to school and come make real money now. Then she had to explain that school didn't mean college, but junior high and high school... LOL. Needless to say she has gotten so much better for all the help.
You should definitely do it! Sign up and go for it. Remember, the only things in life we truly regret are the chances we didin't take.
That's awesome. She must be really good! Mind if I ask what her site is?
Very true. I will have to go through my flickr and see what i think is good enough to share! I'll be sure to post if/when i do it! :)
(I am way too excited by this! I've never known anyone who knows what Pajiba is that I didn't meet there!)