Monday, September 13, 2010
Flying within the Lines
Excitement & apprehension broil in a bag of emotional hope & doubt. My first full-length novel's MC is based on my daughter. Everything that she represented from an emotional standpoint - uncompromising, peevish, the teenage stuff.
As writers, it is our job to translate those real events to the paper. All of the emotion, growth, learning; the elements that turn us from one point in our evolution to the next.
I recently tucked that piece into its hidey-hop & began working on something new & different. I needed to for my own sense of self. But, it made me question the therapeutic nature of what we do. The interpretation & reflection of art & life poured onto the stage.
Emotion - Throughout any given day, we experience a range of emotion. From disgruntled to be awake to glad to hit the down comforter; we traverse a minefield of feeling. Each new piece of information rides a super-collider of action/reaction neurons that we contend with in microbursts. No two reactions are the same.
Viewpoint - Looking back on this last year, I have reflected on how I have changed, how my family has changed. The growth each of us has experienced or not. The story of the last six months as seen through 4 sets of eyes is varied in its emotional depth. It is different because we are different. And, it is different because the lessons each of us needs are different.
Motivations/Goals - Six months ago, my goal was to give my daughter something that I believed she needed in order to move forward, let go & forgive. I didn't like it. But, it wasn't about me & I had to let her go. Sometimes I wonder if that isn't the true test of parenting. I also wonder how she will view this short passage. Now, we obviously had very different ideas of how this whole thing would roll out. And, now I am curious how her mots/goals have changed. Has she grown? Is there perspective? What will the next 6 months bring?
Conflicts - And egads were there scads. I remember being a teenage girl. That time is not as far distant as my children would have one believe. Disgruntled, bristling, angry, flagless.
Now, here I am on the other side of those well-worn pickets & the head-butting has morphed into a perspective none has at 17. Those tense, tear-strained, kidney twisting moments feel like the Spanish armada has come to town. And, they are the moments upon which we build & shape our independence. The milliseconds of space-time that determine a direction, set us on a path & ultimately teach the lessons we need most.
So, in the grand scheme of this whole scene, I do have hope. We have seen positive momentum, actual thinking processes & we are excited. However, that doesn't mean we aren't waiting for that boulder to start rolling back down the mountain. The perpetual parenting pose - smile with a chance of falling rocks.
What does this have to do with my writing? Everything. The cathartic nature of the work allows each of us to rewrite, edit & monitor our actions/reactions. It also permits the artistic driver's license we need to make sense of our world.
Today, I am the scribe of a new chapter. For all the world's a stage & we but merely players. Somedays the role is the grand piano & others it's the prune. May all your characters find that for which they search & may you, the architect, discover that which forms, drives & elevates.