Inside a Writer's Head - Part 1

I've come to the conclusion that the actual act of writing, (the working of thoughts into ideas, working ideas into character into story, into dialogue, then into little black and white symbols on a white background, editing, deleting, re-writing, making it flow and make sense,  and even then (hopefully) moving a stranger emotionally) is quite maddening. But when you get it right, (and it happens SOMEtimes) when you get it right, MAN IT IS BLISS!

But I swear, the very next day you write, everything stinks. It's awful. Nothing makes sense. You don't know where it went wrong! We were just so happy yesterday! What changed since then?! So you tackle it. You chew it up. You spit it out. You see what tastes good and what is bitter. Then you roll around with the bitter for awhile hoping there's SOMEthing of value in it before you finally toss it out (or SAVE it in a new folder on your desktop) and by day's end little bits of paper are crumpled and strewn about your office floor along with articles of clothing.

Wait, what?

That's right. You heard me. You see, writing is like being married to the most gorgeous tortured artist you've ever met. He's all soul and raw nerves and wants nothing but praise and a clear path to his most meaningful endeavors but you're just there to listen and make him toast and coffee in the morning. He's selfish. He never chips in to help you around the apartment. "What. I live here." is his reply when you ask for help cleaning up his messes. He smokes like a chimney. He can't hold down a real job. He works at the record store part-time only because "it helps him get in the zone" so he can "create beauty." And you just wish he'd wash his hair once in a while!!

But he's so dang hot.

And when he gets it right, he gets it right. Despite his obnoxiousness he can be really generous and romantic a lot of the time. (You should hear him sing and play guitar. To die for!) He even surprises me once in a while and just says the most beautiful lines of dialogue and I'm like, "Thank you! Where did that come from?" And he's like, "I got it all right here, baby." as he holds his heart.

And when you win an argument, it's pure triumph! I'm sooooo much smarter than he is. "I'll change him!"

That's seriously what it's like to be me during the hours of eleven AM to five PM and then again at ten forty five PM to one forty five AM. Writing is like texting about the nature of the Universe all day long and you're like, "Just freaking CALL ME!"

Then he finally calls you, because he realizes that marriage is all about serving each other and communication, and he tells you he picked up the dry cleaning, washed his hair and made dinner!!! And suddenly everything you've mulled over all those hours just magically fills your mind and the page and I'm like, "I love him so much! I want to have his babies forever!" And you know you're going to live happily ever after...

That is, until tomorrow.