A sore throat and general family mish-mosh have taken me away from my 9-5. I sit in a coffee shop waiting for news with an overactive imagination and worry. The car ride here was cramped and the weather is gloomy for Santa Barbara. As vague as that may be that's the best I can give you in regards to my personal life. As far as my writing life is concerned, however, the best use of my time right now is making this a "re-write day." I've been so scattered brained and off-kilter that my socks don't even match and frankly, its an accident I rather like.
I wanted to take some time to discuss the "Writing Process," capitalized because its kind of a big deal. For me, the best place to start is with a pen with smooth black gel ink and a fresh page in one of my may writing notebooks. Today's victim is a yellow floral number given to me by my overtly doting better half. For holidays and birthdays he knows just to get me another notebook because it will be filled up (on average) in two weeks time. I struggle with beginnings. I can write the middle, even the end, with ease, but my mind goes blank... never ask me to "start at the beginning," I won't have a clue what to tell you. So basically, I've been bashing my head against a wall struggling with certain beginnings. They've been written and re-written ten times over and no matter what I still hate it--and it's not a perfectionist thing--it's a "this needs to be amazing or I think I might implode from self-imposed shame." Maybe that's something like perfectionism but its not for anyone's benefit but my own. If I don't like it first no one else is sure as hell ever going to read it. That's where I've felt like I've cheated myself a little. With a publisher and pressure you're forced to share your work before its ready... and I'm still uncomfortable with that. On a lighter note, here are some of today's re-writes and scribbles...
I wanted to take some time to discuss the "Writing Process," capitalized because its kind of a big deal. For me, the best place to start is with a pen with smooth black gel ink and a fresh page in one of my may writing notebooks. Today's victim is a yellow floral number given to me by my overtly doting better half. For holidays and birthdays he knows just to get me another notebook because it will be filled up (on average) in two weeks time. I struggle with beginnings. I can write the middle, even the end, with ease, but my mind goes blank... never ask me to "start at the beginning," I won't have a clue what to tell you. So basically, I've been bashing my head against a wall struggling with certain beginnings. They've been written and re-written ten times over and no matter what I still hate it--and it's not a perfectionist thing--it's a "this needs to be amazing or I think I might implode from self-imposed shame." Maybe that's something like perfectionism but its not for anyone's benefit but my own. If I don't like it first no one else is sure as hell ever going to read it. That's where I've felt like I've cheated myself a little. With a publisher and pressure you're forced to share your work before its ready... and I'm still uncomfortable with that. On a lighter note, here are some of today's re-writes and scribbles...
I scratch and scribble and destroy the page with changes and this is a prime example... Hopefully it will be ready to share soon. I trust you all enjoy your week and get your creative groove going. I recommend checking out the inspiring beats of Parov Stelar with this racy little ditty called "Rude Boys" a perfect theme for more my utmost project, The Company. I hope you enjoy! <3
-Ama
-Ama
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