. Spinning .

Still seem to be doing silly things like cleaning the cellar instead of writing, but maybe these things just take time to get back in the groove.

I am sure, however, that Spinning and blogging in general is not the problem that is robbing me of creative thought. I did finally get to critique some writing from mid-December that is most likely useless and of no interest to the writers at this point, but it did keep me mentally agile and involved in writing–even if it’s not my own. I just wish I could pull out a couple–no just that one–of my own and go through it for a real serious revision process. Guilt and deadlines usually spur me on, and though I no longer feel the need to meet them for submission without polishing the work to its shiny best, there is a deadline looming ten days from now and even if I just pretend to have to meet it, maybe that’ll get my ass moving.

But first, there’s more ironing to finish. I swear to God, it will be done today.

As I believe I’ve mentioned before (you will find much use of this phrase here in Spinning, and among my peers over fifty; it generally is used as a “cover your ass” catchall for possible memory loss and the dreaded fear of repetition), while poetry is not a literature form that I will ever be proficient in producing nor totally enamored with enough to run out and buy books of, the study and understanding of it has brought a much greater appreciation and awe of the craftsmanship required. It has also served me well in utilizing its techniques for story writing. Condensation of words through dependency upon imagery, hidden meaning within words, evoking relative feelings through structure and word choice, and so many more of the elements necessary to poem and prose have improved the style and voice of my writing narrative.

One of the places I’ve visited this morning is Poetry Magic, that gives a rather full definition of poetry forms as well as useful advice in technical and creative areas that has convinced me it is one of the better sites to use as a resource base for poets that I’ve run across thus far. While I am not linking it to Spinning, I will be linking it on Narratives, the Writing Group with which I am involved. If you are aware of sites that offer more comprehensive or valuable help to poets, please do let me know. Unfortunately I’ve had to narrow my searches of the past three months to fiction writing otherwise I’d never have been able to leave my chair at the computer at all!

Since I’ve still not opened my mind up to the more fictional pattern of thinking, I’ve reluctantly decided to post a bit of my past creative not-so-good poetry that celebrates birth, life and death to tie in with the theme of the rebirth of a year. (Comments are welcome, but I’ve really no plans for doing anything with my poetry down the line as it’s just not my forte!)

Recyling

I want, I want, to dance on Mars
Sans silver suit and flesh within;
My being alone to revel
In surrealistic splendor.

To look back and laugh at spinning ball,
Where left behind and buried lies
Useless and discarded
Yet another mask I’ve worn.

My many lives now intertwine
To give me much to chat about,
Beside celestial cocktail friends
And strangers I have known.

A man called Poe speaks of his fields
Of flowers and the toil it took,
And there, it looks like…
Sure it is! It’s Jesus wearing black.

A decade’s flash and I am gone
And in a dark and padded place,
Hunted down, assaulted by
The other half of me.

I change and grow, but quicker still
I lose all time and memory,
Except for this refrain that beats,
“Remember to be kinder.”

Traveling down a golden road
Made slick with blood of some sweet fool,
I’m free again; I gasp with life
And scream in recognition.

I’m doing this analysis because I said I would, but truly, this has been a personal journey and I don’t intend to hide that fact nor attempt to pass it off as necessary to a literary journal. I almost feel guilty offering a dry analysis of the emotional trip of the past couple of days, but maybe because it will just put the finishing touches to the understanding of it, I will do so now. Not a particularly engrossing or exciting adventure thriller, but here it is:

This “series” of stages is a linear narrative of a writer’s internal conflicts stemming from a sudden feeling of inability to write creatively and her efforts to both research the problem and to decide a path to continue her future. Besides the internal conflict within the “protagonist” there is a parallel conflict between technology, the weblog seen perhaps as the antagonist, and its effect on the thought processes in the writing formats—the flowing ease of weblogging and the tendency it has to bring more of the personal life of the author into her writings. The writer sees the problem and looks to the weblog as not only a thief of time, but as a thief of creative or fictional manner of thinking. The story arc reaches a climax when a decision must be made as to whether the one form of writing destroys the other. Reality and journalism seem to be the focus, but in delving deeper, one often discovers that the manner in which one writes, not simply what is written, is the creative process. Even the process of designing the website is discovered to be creativity at work. Organization, methodology, discipline, crystallization of ideas and choice of words and use of language—are all necessary parts of fiction and are all clearly being practiced in producing weblog posts. Personal thoughts or feelings about everyday events are practice in writing about them in yet another new way.

From a literary point of view, this short story of a small part of my own life has been written as best as I can describe it as it happened. The conflicts are there, the drama is there, and thankfully, realization of self and direction through research and feedback has produced a decision, a plan, a resolution.

Wish I could say I’d planned this, but I must admit that the coincidence occurred to me rather than the idea being created by me: The timing of this confrontation with myself over writing could not have been better planned. While I hope to briefly summarize what happened—the story, so to speak—and end it here with a resolution in proper story etiquette (!) I think that after bringing the problem out in the open and reading the thoughts of other writers, another resolution was being considered as well. I fear that many of us were on the brink of making one of our New Year’s Resolutions not to spend as much time blogging—writing or reading them.

I think this is a personal decision for each of us, and for myself, while I may limit myself as to the constant accessing and settle upon certain early morning and evening hours with a couple quick mid-day checks, I don’t see the necessity of a severe cutback. I have really come to the conclusion that I AM writing, and that it is creative writing. I believe that for me, it has helped tremendously to write daily and to read the well-written journals of others in my own growth as a writer.

Thanks are due you for sharing, an apology to Edgar for calling him names, and perhaps a critique of the story line that developed from a personal experience may be the last stage in this series—due the professor who not only encouraged the path to writing, but to attempt to overwhelm him with the possibility that I may have not only learned something from his methods of delving into literature, but can apply it as well.

So that will be the final posting—the analysis of the storyline that somehow involved us all, and hate to say it, but may come up again as we ride between the highs and the lows of being writers.

Boy, I’m glad I started all this under the WRITING headline, and not just placed it under REALITY? because I know I’m using it as a thought process towards understanding Creative Writing myself—an extension of all the courses I’ve taken which have taught me to analyze as much as enjoy what is being read.

The weblogs—my own as well as all the daily reading of others—are a constant source of information, insight into character, source of ideas, practice of craft, and basis for story as much as anything else that is read. What better daily self-critique is possible and so easily available?

Even the more strictly personal journals and even my more personal entries are not as valuable in preparing oneself as a journalist—that’s a whole different ballgame—as they are towards progression and growth as a creative and fictional writer. The immediate feedback from others is invaluable to the writer just as is the ability to reread what one has written and be required to fulfill the goal of a short story in each and every entry posted.

Dare I say then, that it’s a good thing?

This has been a mildly traumatic and confusing twenty-four hours, but with the help of others—people I would never have been in touch with without the benefit of weblogging, and whose input I value because they are writers themselves and understand the writing process—I’ve come to some new conclusions about both creativity and its pursuit. I’m spending some time right now placing it into a more organized manner and will post it shortly, but basically I’m convinced that even my efforts here in Spinning are not destructive to the process, but rather beneficial in evolving as a writer.

And, I’m finding that I am not alone at all in my thoughts: From Jo at off the rails: “What you’ve written here, in these last several posts, is so true, and I think a lot of creative writers who also blog can relate to it.”

This morning, when I found this comment from Wendy of allseasons.com, it brought a lot of what everyone else was saying together as well as confirming that niggling little voice inside that said it was okay to personalize a journal—even for a “fiction” writer:

“Personally, for me, the most enjoyable parts of blogs are the personal bits. I like getting to know someone (well as much as you can) through this medium. I actually do think if you read someone’s blog everyday, you know them to a certain extent. I can see what you are saying, that it takes some focus away from the type of writing you want to do … do you find it helps with your creativity at all?”

Two things stand out here: 1) Those who left comments cared about the writer’s situation. I doubt that had I posted a series about a protagonist who was going through this would have elicited the personal response I was most grateful to receive and consider; and 2) It’s obvious that the personal touch adds to, if not is a necessary part of, the writer’s desire and inspiration to write, and the reader’s willingness to become involved with the words. Who has managed to read a novel through without checking out the author’s bio and photo? Does it not add to the understanding a little? I love Poe’s work, but why do I as well have him in 10” stuffed form sitting atop my computer shelf?

Writing about reality can indeed be done creatively. Just look at the journals out there and you’ll find people who don’t consider themselves writers writing beautifully.

I think I’ve got it now—I know I feel a helluvalot better emotionally (and after all, writing is always going to involve emotions), and simply need to perhaps organize these revelations and the lessons I’ve learned today into perhaps a true literary analysis form. As the English professors have suggested–this form of writing is not being done in place of creative writing; it is indeed done as a daily exercise in creative writing that can only add experience and fine-tuning to a more focused individual writing project.

This whole process I’ve gone through might have taken a week or longer of distress and floundering, but it’s been wrapped up within 24 hours by “group therapy.” Thanks, guys!