Let the words come through my head and pour out
When I write, it’s with a spirit of nobility. It’s to extinguish some form of fire that’s threatening to gut me and let your soul collapse on itself like tinder. Or perhaps I just seek some form of recognition that the ideas bouncing around in my head aren’t just giving me a headache. I let the fire and the headache keep going until it gets to a point where I have to lock myself in the room and let my fingers lose control on the keys, guarding the noise so that it doesn’t bother anyone and invite curiosity.
There’s always a hesitation though. When I sit here typing, I get wrapped up with trying to get the post done and published that I often feel like what I post is not my best work. And when I let everything build up, and I edit things over time, I wonder if there’s too much disconnection between the individual segments of what I write about. I’m too critical of what I write and need to let myself trust my instincts before I can really make any use of them.
In 2004-05, my friend and I co-wrote a screenplay that was loose Don Quixote with college basketball players still clinging to past glories. I always loved rereading the script because I had gotten to know and love these two people we built up and took from Duluth to New York. My friend has written a few more pieces since then, and I loved reading and rereading every one of them, all full of detail and life. He is the one who restarted the spark in myself that made me want to write again, and has encouraged me to keep at it all this time, but I wish I had a completed work to send him.
When I try to brainstorm and create a world, they all feel hollow, echoes of characters I had found before. I’m afraid to know who these characters are, and I don’t know what world they really inhabit. I wonder if I even have the ability to even know the characters and recognize the unspoken language between them.
Enough waffling, though. I have made this my goal: I will have something complete to send out for feedback instead of the aimless scraps that I abandon or ignore.