January 14, 2010

• Writers Write... Every Day...

  I have the gem of an idea, a few main characters, a bit of a plot, some smashing conflict and even a setting... I know where the story might be going and even how to get there, but it's too soon for keyboard time. It's thinking time- the Visualization Process time.

  I used to think that a day not spent at the keyboard was a wasted day- because my motto is... Writers Write... Every Day... but at some point I began to look at the writing process a bit deeper. When does writing begin? We teach our kids to keep lists of topics, to use graphic organizers to create a plan, and to free write when they're stuck as part of the prewriting process, but usually the teacher focuses on the actual writing and the result.

  When I sit down at the keyboard I can turn out 5k words a day and in a month have a first draft. The words flow faster than my fingers and I forget to stretch or wiggle and my fingers ache and my butt falls asleep. At the end, I think "That was a productive writing day". But where is the beginning of that work? Is it when I outline on large post-it's characters and plot connections? Is it when I have a working title? Or is it when I am in the blue phase like I am now...

  I think of it as the Blue phase because the world has a slightly less realness to it, as if it's surrounded by mystic blue fog, and I'm less connected to it and living more inside my mind. I sit at McDonald's, a notebook open, as the parents ream out their nine year old for a less than stellar report from her teacher. Stubborn, she refuses to cry at their biting words and she tries once more to explain herself. I notice as a piece of pink yard off her worn sweater drags through the ketscup and leaves red marks on the table. Her fingers are dirt-encrusted and I wonder how they got so dirty in the middle of winter. I have no nine year olds in my story, but the 13 year old is stubborn like she is. When scolded, he shuts down. He doesn't defend himself. He's learned long ago the best defense is silence. He'll cry later- maybe- alone in his room, late at night, when everyone else is asleep. He doesn't do well in school either. The teacher can't figure out why. He's smart. He could do better. It's as if he's learned not to show what he knows. She'll blame it on his daydreaming. He doesn't eat at McDonald's. He's a sheltered child, and he doesn't wear hand-me-downs, or have dirty nails. But there is a gardener in his life- or at least there is one now- a gardener who talks non-stop about nonsense stuff, who sings to the flowers and whispers sweet nothings in the grubs ears (Do grubs have ears?). He looks at the dirt that refuses to come off his palm with a bit of distress. The telltale sign that he's broken a rule means certain punishment later if he's caught. There is no one he can trust to protect him and keep him safe. He has only himself. He wipes the dirt off on ground, but it won't leave. The gardener pours water from a green watering can over his fingers and they tingle in the cold.... and... the little girl and her parents throw away their trays and her mom hugs her. Blue Fog... I'm prewriting. There are few new notes under the page with the 13 year's old character's name at the top. Stubborn, shuts down... those are from before. And suddenly I realize that he's not alone. He just feels that way. Behind him, in the shadows, is his security guard, watching over him, who may have arranged this chance meeting with the gardener. Who's controlling who, I wonder as the free table is occupied by a group of pre-teen boys who are busy snatching fries and texting. They seem so much freer from my guy, and I look for hidden shadows in their eyes.....

   I may never use that scene in the new story- or I might. It's too early to tell, but it has taught me some critical things about my character. I am feeling a bit of the background of the fear and isolation that motivates him for his BIG move- the decision that drives the story and other characters.

  I find it hard to think... "that was a productive writing day" after my time at Mickey D's, but actually it was a very rich time, full of color and depth that will add depth and color to the words when I finally write them down. Thus... this is prewriting time... a few notes here and there, some charts, a bit of sketches and story graphing... but most of the work is deep in my head where it can't be seen...

  Writers do write... every day... it's just some days look different than others... and some have no word count at the end of them!

   

  • 12:12 pm
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