Writing is a Transcendent Act!
Writing is a transforming, transcendent act. As Annie Dillard said, "The sensation of writing is one of spinning, blinded by love and desire." It all starts with one word, one line, one small picture, a song remembered, a fragment of memory heavy with meaning that stirs your emotions, beats inside the chest, and takes your breath away.
When you create a scene, you're tapping the mallet of words against some rich vein of memory that only grows with tenderness, ruthlessness, and care -- like manufcturing deja-vu!
Writing is not about having "ideas" about plot, structure, or narrative. It is the creation of a feeling, a nuance, a snapshot taken, recalled, then established by allowing one scene to suggest the next -- of allowing the work to create itself. That's organic.
But this is more easily said that done. Nothing happens without putting words to paper, then shaping them. The process is the product. The secret is to write, then rewrite. To sift words until their essence emerges. Although writing is a solitary pursuit, sharing it with others along the same path, through triumph and error, refines craft and skill and allows for discovering new ways to see, to write, to enter into fictive reality -- the vivid and continuous dream that good story is about.
Contributors to this Blog should feel free to post scenes and descriptive passages from your past or more recent work for comment, here.
Crush the internal editor, trust the perception of your fellows, and FADE-IN...
Kevin C.
When you create a scene, you're tapping the mallet of words against some rich vein of memory that only grows with tenderness, ruthlessness, and care -- like manufcturing deja-vu!
Writing is not about having "ideas" about plot, structure, or narrative. It is the creation of a feeling, a nuance, a snapshot taken, recalled, then established by allowing one scene to suggest the next -- of allowing the work to create itself. That's organic.
But this is more easily said that done. Nothing happens without putting words to paper, then shaping them. The process is the product. The secret is to write, then rewrite. To sift words until their essence emerges. Although writing is a solitary pursuit, sharing it with others along the same path, through triumph and error, refines craft and skill and allows for discovering new ways to see, to write, to enter into fictive reality -- the vivid and continuous dream that good story is about.
Contributors to this Blog should feel free to post scenes and descriptive passages from your past or more recent work for comment, here.
Crush the internal editor, trust the perception of your fellows, and FADE-IN...
Kevin C.
posted by Kevin C. at 6:24 AM
6 Comments:
I'm more used to technical writing that doesn't immediately bring to mind the exhiliration that Annie describes. Writing, especially creative writing, I think, requires vulnerability. That is often why I resist outside editing. It is risky. You mention the organic aspect of writing, your comments seem to reflect the perspective of the writer to the written piece. I wonder what effect the final work has on the writer. How has the author been changed of affected by the work produced? Is there an ethic of writing?
John,
I believe the author is impacted by what s/he writes. If not, there would be nothing "organic" when it screens, etc.
Too, there is always the element of "mystery" involved. When I begin a project, I never know exactly where it's going, but we (as writers and filmmakers) need to become MORE aware of what is operating (or not operating) at the creative "core" of all that we do...
It's sobering to think that we are capable of creating the same worthless "kitsch" as any other artist.
As to an "ethic"... great question! My first thought here is, while there is nothing/no subject that is morally "off-limits" to the writer... how we approach the subject is always an extremely moral and value-laden issue.
Let's see if this posting business works like Blackboard; you know, I am uncertain whether or not God wired me to be able to Blog--it has been a monumental frustration up to this point.
On Friday, Kevin, you posted Annie Dillard's comment, that; "The sensation of writing is one of spinning, blinded by love and desire."
Okay, I'll bite on that one. I am not sure where she is headed with "blinded by love." When I write, I am fundamentally infatuated with each word that emites from my fingertips. But I am not altogether sure that is what she means: I think it has a lot to do with it. Did you see Finding Forrester? Okay film, except for the atrocious language. I think there is a kinesthetic connection (well, I know there is) between the brain and the fingers when we type.
Okay, aside from the physiological, I believe there is something (probably seratonin) that happens when we type and we begin to see words form at our command; I wonder if it is much like (Kevin correct me on the spelling) Bara Creation; something from nothing.
Then you say, "It all starts with one word, one line, one small picture, a song remembered, a fragment of memory heavy with meaning that stirs your emotions, beats inside the chest, and takes your breath away." Now, I I'll agree with this one hook, line and sinker. Our job then becomes to funnel the energy that "takes our breath away," into a creative conduit for the poetry of the process. Then, whereas I like thinking that writing is about the creation of a nuance, I must argue that if there is no structure, then writing is not going to be as comprehensible as it could otherwise be; this is when it becomes our job (as writers) to enable those who read our creation to understand it.
This is not a statement that decries the creative process---it is a statement that the human brain was wired for organization; even if we have antiplot or a disparate structure that defies immediate categorization, there must still be some modicum of organization; even stream of consciousness has some sense of (not) randomness.
Doug Miller says that cuts in a film are like breaths; in much the same vein as the hard return in a paragraph. If I wrote a sentence that is twenty lines lines long, it might (actually it would) be difficult to follow the coherence of the thought. Identically, if I wrote a paragraph that included seven characters, each with something crucial to say---a paragraph that went on for six pages in (for example) a paperback novel, then what each character had to say would lose significance and the novel could not maintain a coherent structure.
Now, all of this is understood, so I doubt that Annie Dillard is saying that writers should be totally free and unhindered by ancient and modern conventions. I agree with her (and de facto) Kevin, that writing is a love and a labor that can be enjoyed and sought after, but let me tell you; engage in relationships with people who understand that writing is a lonely process.
By the by, I like your metaphor of FADE-IN. It sounds more euphonic than chime in, no pun intended.
John, I agree, writing takes seminal vulnerability. As writers, we have to be open to the voice of the character; when we start to fear they are taking the story on, then we have to be willing to let go. Now, you say that is why you resist editing. I wonder if you fear the process of editing, which is truly the actual work of writing, or if you fear the release of your control over the material. This is not to say that a writer cannot maintain control over his or her thoughts. We are the tool for the story, once it starts. Some of my most ecstatic moments are when I realize that the characters just spoke. It is frightening, to be sure; but it is wonderful.
I believe that the PROCESS of writing changes the writer in ways that are essentially impossible to detect. God, the greatests artist/ writer ever, programmed us to ingratiate ourselves upon the changes that writing does to us; we supposed to enjoy it, because remember, there are many deep things we do not know about ourselves, which must be searched by the spirit of a living God.
Steve
Anyone here read Religion as Film?
This post reminds me of it. There is something very religious about art. There's somthing there that St. Augustine admired and feared.
Steve, nicely put! Some deep thinking here about the craft (inside-out).
Re: your question creating "out of nothing" = ex nihilo
Elias,
Are you talking about John C. Lyden's book: "Film As Religion: Myths, Morals, and Rituals"?
If so, I've read. Definitely on to something, here, in an age where postmoderns are increasingly turning to film vs. organized religion.
SOUND and IMAGE touch us in a "deep place" ...
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