14. Wishing? Lying? Dreaming? Dancing? Boxing? Cooking? What is writing like for you?
Sometimes writing makes my fingers sore. Sometimes it makes my head hurt. Sometimes I want to start in the middle of my piece instead of the end. It can be tedious. It can take forever to come up with something even remotely good. Sometimes, scenes in life make me want to sit down and write. When I'm walking on the ocean shore, I want to sit down, slip of my shoes, and write. Small, seaside towns with old, salt-stained buildings and cobblestone sidewalks make the writer inside of me get pretty anxious. I like to think about stories while I walk. Writing is something I do to feel better, or to even feel worse. I've heard that the mind of a writer is a dangerous place. Writers spend so much time in their heads, chewing over ideas and getting lost in their own creation. Writing sometimes is like pulling teeth for me; I could stare at the screen and not even touch my keyboard. Sometimes, my writing is like a pricked finger; once I start, I just can't stop. Writing is something I sometimes must do. Sometimes I don't need it. It helps me through hard times, and even good. I tend to crave writing. It's a passion. Writing is something that is incredibly personal; it's like dipping into someone's brain. My deepest of feelings and thoughts can be found in my writing. To me, it's not really a thing. It's a piece of me. A hobby, a possible career path, a necessity.
15. You have a friend, lover, s.o., parent, whomever--and you have a magic potion. Once they take it they will tell you the absolute truth for one minute. Who do you give it to and what do they say?
Can I give it to someone I am destined to meet? The people who I have in my life now are pretty truthful to me, which is why they're in my life. I know my parents love me, I know my siblings do, I know my friends at least put up with me. They're always present, in all my plans and all my dreams. Maybe I could use the potion on a person in my future who leaves me with questions. Maybe I could use it on a soul mate who I don't know yet. Perhaps I'd only want to hear the truth if it's good. I'd rather tell a lie that brings a smile then a truth that brings a tear. What if I slipped my friend the potion and she said, 'I've always thought that you could afford to lose about 10 pounds'? That would do me no good to hear. There's a reason why the truth isn't always displayed. I don't go around wearing a post-it stamp on my forehead that says, 'I daydream too much, I have low self-esteem problems and I have poor social skills'. These things are the truth but I don't tell this to everybody that I meet. I'd want to know certain truths from this person who I have not met yet. Because I may not be confident in much, but I am confident that the people in my life love me. Most of them. The ones that I know will be there forever. So, maybe I choose to give the potion to my future husband the day I am on my deathbed or the day he is on his. Assuming I get married. It could be closure. It could tie up loose ends that were always there. It could be a way for me to understand things that I always questioned. I'd tuck the potion away for years and years, and save it for learning a truth that is so extremely profound. The truth is a dangerous thing. So maybe I could use it to help another person; slip it to a murderer who refuses to confess. Maybe I could use it on my high school basketball coach - the one who targeted me every day and caused me to purposely flunk a class in order to get kicked off the team. Why did he hate me so much? No, I wouldn't want to waste it on him. I could use it on my mother, maybe to ask why I we have such a poor relationship with my half-sister who lives states away. What happened while we were kids that caused us to be almost strangers? I could use it on the government, to uncover secrets we all know are there. Where do they keep the locked-up aliens? Is Osama Bin Laden really dead? Where is all our money going?
Or, perhaps I could sell it for a hefty sum. I'd buy myself a nice used car, pay for my college education, go on a trip with my friends and family, and give the rest back to the world. With a potion this dangerous, exciting and tempting, I would find plenty of buyers. I'd never want all the pressure of deciding who I'd use it on.
16. Somebody just offered me the chance to get paid for gassing on about one of my favorite topics: dogs. What would you like to be paid to talk about?
Initially, I'd say myself, but not in a egocentric kind of way. I have more layers then an onion and I go through more phases then the moon. I'm too fickle to talk on one topic for too long, and I have so many interests that I know I could talk to almost anybody.
The world has so many wonders and mysteries, I'd probably talk about the world. The dreams I have of the world, the things I want to see in the world, the reasons why the world also scares me. I'd talk about photography and how it makes me feel so warm and fuzzy inside. I'd tell jokes and stories. I'd like to talk about some books I've read, some music I've listened to, a person who has inspired me lately. I'd talk about how I hate mushrooms. I'd tell my Creepy Leg Theory; anything with too many or too little legs creeps me out. See here: snakes, octopus, spiders, eels, centipedes, etc. I'd talk about the way the trees in my favorite forest look; the tattoos I want before I die. I'd talk about my family and my friends, because who would I be without them? I guess I'd just really like to be paid to talk, because I certainly enjoy talking. I also really enjoy listening. I'd get paid to talk and listen. As precious as I know money is these days, I'd do a lot of talking to earn that money. And getting paid to do something I enjoy so much? It's hardly work at all. My grandfather always said that if you enjoy your job, you never truly work a day in your life. I'd love to get paid to talk. Can you imagine getting paid to dream? When I talk I dream. I go on about things I wish were true, things I know are and things I don't. I take a topic and I run with it, until I've bored myself with it. I then do it all over again, until I'm too tired to talk.
"Sometimes writing makes my fingers sore. Sometimes it makes my head hurt. Sometimes I want to start in the middle of my piece instead of the end. It can be tedious. It can take forever to come up with something even remotely good."
ReplyDeleteI like that opening very much--nothing wrong with the negative opener!
Then you switch to positive...and that's good too!
" Sometimes, scenes in life make me want to sit down and write. When I'm walking on the ocean shore, I want to sit down, slip of my shoes, and write. Small, seaside towns with old, salt-stained buildings and cobblestone sidewalks make the writer inside of me get pretty anxious. I like to think about stories while I walk. "
I think that neg/pos opening really works for 14--and am almost sorry you didn't stop there.
"Maybe I could use it on my high school basketball coach - the one who targeted me every day and caused me to purposely flunk a class in order to get kicked off the team. Why did he hate me so much? No, I wouldn't want to waste it on him. I could use it on my mother, maybe to ask why I we have such a poor relationship with my half-sister who lives states away. What happened while we were kids that caused us to be almost strangers? I could use it on the government, to uncover secrets we all know are there. Where do they keep the locked-up aliens? Is Osama Bin Laden really dead? Where is all our money going?"
ReplyDeleteI see your response as a freewrite on a theme, a giant brainstorm in search of a focus, a writer's search-and-destroy mission.
The quoted section above is where the piece finally drops into gear, gets some traction, and begins having fun with the prompt. That section is worth quoting!
In 16 you use the same hunting technique you try in 15. Interesting to see them side by side because whereas in 15 you finally get a hold, get a grip, and get a-going, in 16, despite your effort and good intentions, the closest you come to catching fire is here: " I'd talk about how I hate mushrooms. I'd tell my Creepy Leg Theory; anything with too many or too little legs creeps me out. See here: snakes, octopus, spiders, eels, centipedes, etc. I'd talk about the way the trees in my favorite forest look; the tattoos I want before I die."--But then you abandon that path, which tells me that in this one, you were unsure about what to do, how to do it, what a finished piece would look like, what was good, what wasn't.
ReplyDeleteWell, don't despair--happens to the best of us some days.