bookkeeping
Dec. 12th, 2005 10:29 am943 words on "Spider's Rose."
This is going to be another weird one. I seem to be getting a lot of those recently. It's as if the front office of my brain is trying to distract me from all the flailing and wallowing that's going on in the back rooms, where we are having serious plateau issues with narrative voice.
That sentence probably needs some unpacking, doesn't it?
'Plateau' is
matociquala's word for the stage in the development of one's craft which I would describe as a component of one's skill set that has always been as reliable as a Swingline stapler suddenly turning into a funhouse hall of mirrors. You can't figure out how to do it right, can't figure out what you're doing wrong, can't figure out how you did it right in the first place. This is usually a sign--or at least we pretend hopefully that it's a sign--that the backbrain (where all the real work takes place) is trying to get something sorted out, and that if you flail around long enough, things will come back together again, and will in fact be the better for the flailing.
But it is incredibly frustrating.
The problem I'm having is with narrative voice, which I had always hubristically considered one of my strengths. Suddenly, it's like I'm a wall-eyed child wearing boxing gloves trying to do origami. I know I'm trying to do something, but it's not coming across, and I can't even explain what it is anymore. And when I try, I end up doubting whether it's a thing worth doing anyway, or if I'm just being self-indulgent. I'm rawly self-conscious, but I don't seem to have any control over what happens. It's like the phase I went through in eighth or ninth grade where suddenly I was singing flat. And I could hear that I was singing flat, but I seemed to have no ability to fix it. I was aware of the result, but I couldn't control the process. That's what this is like, and I hate it.
But meanwhile, the front office is trying to distract me with genre-bending, gender-bending ideas. And I'm grateful for its efforts, even if they aren't entirely successful. I mean, it's not like I'm going to stop writing anyway, so I might as well have interesting toys while I sulk.
If it was easy, it wouldn't be fun.
This is going to be another weird one. I seem to be getting a lot of those recently. It's as if the front office of my brain is trying to distract me from all the flailing and wallowing that's going on in the back rooms, where we are having serious plateau issues with narrative voice.
That sentence probably needs some unpacking, doesn't it?
'Plateau' is
But it is incredibly frustrating.
The problem I'm having is with narrative voice, which I had always hubristically considered one of my strengths. Suddenly, it's like I'm a wall-eyed child wearing boxing gloves trying to do origami. I know I'm trying to do something, but it's not coming across, and I can't even explain what it is anymore. And when I try, I end up doubting whether it's a thing worth doing anyway, or if I'm just being self-indulgent. I'm rawly self-conscious, but I don't seem to have any control over what happens. It's like the phase I went through in eighth or ninth grade where suddenly I was singing flat. And I could hear that I was singing flat, but I seemed to have no ability to fix it. I was aware of the result, but I couldn't control the process. That's what this is like, and I hate it.
But meanwhile, the front office is trying to distract me with genre-bending, gender-bending ideas. And I'm grateful for its efforts, even if they aren't entirely successful. I mean, it's not like I'm going to stop writing anyway, so I might as well have interesting toys while I sulk.
If it was easy, it wouldn't be fun.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-12 05:44 pm (UTC)Best of luck getting your recalcitrant voice back in order.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-12 10:55 pm (UTC)---L.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-13 04:36 am (UTC)Good night, and good luck...