James Salter, Wikimedia Commons
“In the end, writing is like a prison, an island from which you will never be released but which is a kind of paradise: the solitude, the thoughts, the incredible joy of putting into words the essence of what you for the moment understand and with your whole heart want to believe.” – James Salter
What is writing like for you?
My English 101 instructor, Mr. Richard Condon, told us that Thorstein Veblen referred to writing as “pleasant agony.” I can endorse that. But I once compared late night writing, generated after my inner critic has fallen asleep, to a mural painted by moonlight: magic at midnight, but muck in morning light.
I’ve written before on the many metaphors for writing prose or scripts: building a bridge, painting a picture, hanging a clothesline, mapping unexplored territory, opening a closet, making a sculpture, building a house, laying pipe, mining, surfing, riding a horse, and hunting. Here’s the best metaphor:
https://jguentherauthor.wordpress.com/2018/12/01/brainstorying-the-garden-of-forking-paths/
The metaphor is based on Jorge Borges’ story, “The Garden of Forking Paths.” You may want to read the story first, but it’s not mandatory.
I just wish I’d known when I started, how addicting it is.
But it’s the least damaging of my addictions, so…
You “stole my thunder,” Ms. Drake… 😉
I was going say pretty much the same thing… I’m addicted to it… even when I’m not sitting at the keyboard or with pen and (paper) pad, I’m turning phrases over and over and over… jotting things down on whatever is handy… seeing what our esteemed Mr. Bell refers to as the “What if…” in all kinds of things and situations… editing as I walk by reciting lines I’m trying to smooth and polish…
And while it IS the least damaging, it sometimes DOES do some damage by my being distracted or staying up way past my bedtime…
When I was just knee high to a grasshopper, I always had a story playing out in my head. Sometimes I’d got to bed early just so I could “write” in my head. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized those stories could be written down.
An enjoyable way to avoid housework
…and yardwork… 😋
I’ve heard it compared to wrestling an octopus into a jar.
Writing is a link back to the wonders of childhood when we were imaginative 90% of the time and it was OK. I can’t occupy myself for hours playing GI Joe anymore (and please call a shrink if I can) but I can sit for 30-60 minutes a night after a long day of work and play in a fictional sandbox.
Being able to open the toy chest of my imagination and play.
it is the joy of creation.
Journeying without leaving home.
The best way to travel, IMHO!
🙂
Even on the days it’s like pulling up dandelions by the root, I’d rather be writing than anything else.
Me too, Patricia.
Writing is—like my kids—an essential part of my life. I couldn’t exist without it.
Writing is the ONLY thing which keeps me sane – there are very few other things I can do, and most of them not for very long at a time.
Writing frees me from the limitations of a misunderstood chronic illness (ME/CFS) and the damage it has done to my brain and body.
The ‘good times’ are when I’ve micromanaged life to the point where I get a couple of good hours – and have the sense to move right into the groove to take advantage of it and put the words on the page. (If the Hard Sudoku takes fewer than six minutes or so, brain is on, and we’re good to go.)
It’s the one thing left under my control (within those limitation). It’s legacy – the first two volumes in my mainstream trilogy are out and have won awards – after losing the ability to do what I trained for in fusion research. I love writing, and having written. Get me started, and I’ll talk your ear off.
Unfortunately, that also means the non-writing days hurt. The days when something else has to be done are lost – there’s no making them up by spending more time and effort.
But the good days are so good…