This song just keeps beating me over the head when I’m awake, haunting me in my sleep. It’s an ancient favorite, from an album long forgotten, and it never meant much to me even when I did listen to it constantly. Picaresque was one of my Pullman staples…one I listened to really loudly in an effort to keep me awake when I drove through the barren landscape of Eastern Washington.
But that’s the good thing about “shuffle,” I guess.
I am a writer, a writer of fictions.
I am the heart that you call home.
And I’ve written pages among pages
trying to rid you from my bones.
Maybe it’s striking a nerve now because I’ve only recently come to really think of myself as a “writer.” I’ve picked it up more and more this year, in part because I had so many changes in the boy front. I went from just dabbling in this blog, updating it every few months, to maintaining it fairly regularly, writing better posts, and, on top of that, maintaining two other blogs.
And it’s good. It’s really, really good to write, to think about writing on a daily basis, to turn words and ideas over and over in my head.
It’s becoming a near obsession. I’ve gone back to read over the last part of my last fiction post at least five or six times. Why? Because the dialog bothers me. Dialog has always bothered me. It never feels natural. It always feel contrived. And this particular dialog is haunting me along with this song. I can’t seem to shake it, nor can I figure out how to fix it.
Then there’s the other torture out there. The other day, my googletalk therapist messaged me and said:
“i was reading your “real” blog. and I am consistently amazed by your writing in that one. it’s really head and shoulders above your other blogs, which are good in themselves.”
This. Is. Fucking. Torture. Because I know that it’s true. This third blog is really private. Because I tell stories. About people I know and for some reason, telling stories about the people I know makes the words come easier. Prettier. Just fucking better.
I’ve been racking my brain (with these stupid lyrics following me, of course), trying to figure out how to transfer that style into my fiction or even my blogging. Because pretty words are pointless locked up like that.
And then there’s the worry. This influx of writing was spurred when I was unhappy and lonely and hurting. Remembering. And the pages and pages I wrote really were cathartic, they really did rid him from my bones.
So now that he’s gone, what do I write about? It’s been a chore to bring myself back to the blinking cursor, opting instead for drinks with friends, late night movies, and conversations late into the night. What exactly is there to write about if I’m content?
It’s harder to write well, to do any kind of art well, without pain. Pain is inevitable, yes, and it’s the best fucking muse for creativity. My ex, actually, when we went through those good stages, would complain that he wasn’t writing music. Happiness, fulfillment, just didn’t allow for it.
This is a ridiculous post. See, I just wish that I could share something of substance.
Jami Sheets 
I LOVE that song. I used to use the chorus as a tagline for an old fiction website that I used to maintain.
Do you take new writers at trickster syndicate? I’d LOVE to be involved. I miss writing fiction. I can’t seem to find a viable outlet for my muse.
I know you’re writing a blovel, but if you’re interested in writing for TS as well, just say the word!
(Of course, you’d have to have a WordPress account to gain access to it. You can just sign up and write one post with a link to your other blog/s or something?)
As for the blovel, I’m interested. I’m tempted. I am thinking about it. It might be fun. I will think some more.
I lost the link to your super secret blog. But I will find it again. I was thinking about it the other day and was too ashamed of having lost it in the first place to ask for it again.
Yes, pain and misery and frustration and anger make amazing writing-fellows. You’re too busy being happy to write about being happy; right?
But that’s OK. Be happy, and when you’re content, calm and not holding so tightly to the happiness… this will all still be here. You will still be a writer.
It’s who you are, even when you’re struggling with it.
For what it’s worth: the dialogue is real, it reminds me conversations I’ve had with some phenomenal people and some not so. It’s awkward where it needs to be, it conveys anger and frustration when it needs to. It’s real.
I DMed you a link to my super secret blog. It’s fine that you lost it — there are only about 7 posts anyway.
Thank you for understanding about this happy writers block. And thank you for the comment about the dialog. It helps a ton, you don’t even know.
You should look into this idea. I just caught onto it today. 😀
I guess that would require a link. Haha.
http://ybrfiction.blogspot.com/2010/09/blovel-project.html
I have issues with dialogue, too, because if you translate all of our inadequacies of speech into writing, we seem really, really dumb. Humans spend so much time gesturing and filling the time we take to think about our next words with “umms” and “likes” and “wells” and “sos”. If you put that into dialogue form, it automatically becomes a reference to bimbo-speech, when it’s really just how we all talk.
We also don’t always follow the same storyline in conversation–oftentimes we’re really just talking to ourselves, at someone else.
Right, it’s especially frustrating because Mark Twain is one of my favorite writers, so of course I’m constantly comparing my dialog to his. And he is a master at capturing idiosyncratic language and dialects and inadequacies. I am not. I feel like I’m writing a speech. A political speech. Or something equally as phony and bullshitty.
oh my life i love that song. So much. such great lyrics…..
also, what you say isn’t stupid about the whole pain being creative thing – it’s 100% true. being happy is so boring.
mind-numbingly boring.
good luck with the dialogue. write down things that real people say when you hear them. it helps.
x
By the way, i gave you an award……x
http://erisgirl.blogspot.com/2010/09/right.html
I did a cover of that song sometime last year on my acoustic. I’ve since done another cover with my friends who I jam with. I’ll upload it and send it to you when I’m back in civilization. But yes. I too love that song and whole-heartedly relate to it.
It had a lot to do with bringing me back to life.
However, if you feel like you need to be in pain to write well, perhaps you should start to pursue the opposite now, and that is utter joy and amazement. This has happened to me this summer spending time out in the wilderness. To cut myself off from everything was absolutely the best move I could have made in terms of my writing process. It allows you to see things more clearly, and also, rid yourself of distractions, and most importantly, influence. I find when I am in civilization, I am constantly influenced (not inspired) by other things/people/styles. When really, in this world of competitive writing, and trying to be the best you can be, and the best YOU you can be, and unique at the same time- it can be destructive.
New music, new places, new love, new everything is a great way to inspire you, and even throwing yourself completely out of your comfort zone, (save for transition time) is also a great way to both jump start some creative juices for reflective and exploration purposes.
I hope that helps a little.
xo