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Posts Tagged ‘Fiction’

Action is hope. At the end of each day, when you’ve done your work, you lie there and think, Well, I’ll be damned, I did this today. It doesn’t matter how good it is, or how bad—you did it. At the end of the week you’ll have a certain amount of accumulation. At the end of a year, you look back and say, I’ll be damned, it’s been a good year.

— Ray Bradbury

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A portrait of productivity. Photo by ModCatShop on Unsplash

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Some days you wake up with a story idea crystallized in your mind, bright and shiny and ready to go. And some days you wake up with “She’s An Easy Lover” by Philip Bailey and Phil Collins stuck on repeat. 

Guess which kind of day I’m having.

The funny part is that it’s not a song I’ve ever actively liked, I wasn’t dreaming about anything related to its subject, and it’s not the sort of fiction I tend to write. I mean, it’s not as if the song is about the lead singer of a band telling the story of how he stumbled into a dark street one night after a show and into the arms of a beautiful and deadly vampire or anything. 

Right?

So maybe there’s a story seed here after all. I still don’t know why this particular song came to me at this particular time, but that’s the wild and unpredictable nature of creativity for you.

“Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.”

― Franz Kafka

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Photo by Valentin BEAUVAIS on Unsplash

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“There is something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where they’ll take you.”

― Beatrix Potter

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Photo by Brooke Lark on Unsplash

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Where has this day gone? Despite constant motion since pre-dawn, I have accomplished exactly two of the many things on my list for today. Ok, fine, three if I stretch it. It’s time to buckle down and finalize the edits on this story.

“Concentrate all your thoughts upon the work at hand. The sun’s rays do not burn until brought to a focus.”

― Alexander Graham Bell

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Photo by Romain Vignes on Unsplash

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“Imperfection inspires invention, imagination, creativity. It stimulates. The more I feel imperfect, the more I feel alive.”

― Jhumpa Lahiri, In Other Words

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Photo by Renzo D’souza on Unsplash

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For today’s bit of fun, here’s a Nature‘s Futures story by Marissa Lingen: So your grandmother is a starship now- a quick guide for the bewildered.

Your grandmother is becoming a starship! She has gone through many phases in her life already — infant, child, teenager, young adult, student, worker, in many cases spouse, parent, retiree. She has had hobbies like knitting, volleyball and carbon mitigation. She has travelled in planetary atmosphere whenever her circumstances allowed. Now she is uploading her consciousness into a starship! The circle of life is beautiful.

I am now going to imagine that my grandmother is a spaceship.

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Photo by Shyam on Unsplash

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If you can write beginnings and ends, you can make a nice living as a writer. If you write middles, you win Pulitzers and Nobel Prizes and stuff. But with beginnings and ends, you’re going to do okay.

— James Patterson

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Photo by Eilis Garvey on Unsplash

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“Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory. If a soldier is imprisoned by the enemy, don’t we consider it his duty to escape?… If we value the freedom of mind and soul, if we’re partisans of liberty, then it’s our plain duty to escape, and to take as many people with us as we can!”

― J.R.R. Tolkien

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Photo by ian dooley on Unsplash

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So there I was, wading through old backups and oddly named files and all the other detritus that accumulates on the drives of most computers, when I stumbled across a story start. At some point in the hazy past, I was writing/still half-dreaming/avoiding other work when I came up with a snippet. (I do this a lot. Most of my story starters are corralled into a central file, but apparently this one escaped.)

Does the idea still speak to me? Maybe. Here is its beginning.

The room was twenty feet wide by fifty or so deep, and high enough to stash a semi trailer. The basement warehouse hid inside a larger complex designed to cloak all manner of shady dealings. The walls were concrete, bare in some spots and painted a dull grey in others. Dim afternoon light filtered in through a series of filthy windows set just below the ceiling. The west wall contained a pile of musty wooden crates stacked head high, and the door sported a series of aging and graffitied corporate memos. Whoever Toby was, I could call him for a good time. Dust bunnies occupied the corners. It was the dullest den of iniquity I’d seen yet.

Still, I wouldn’t have minded the decor so much if it weren’t on fire…

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Photo by Alexander Grey on Unsplash

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I’m still working through my tech to-do list, and while there are still a few issues popping up, I’m close to being back on track. So no, I have not spent the weekend working on writing projects as planned, but I am ready to hit the ground running, swing into action, get cracking, or your preferred cliché here, etc. etc.

I also ran across a stack of notes that contained to-do lists from before we bought house. A decade ago. The pile also included story ideas, the lifetime warranty for my lucky fishing hat, and a random page of haiku. The poetry ranged from bright and sunny to, well, I’ll let you be the judge.

One cold, dark night.

Knee-deep mud and a shovel.

But that’s love for you.

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Photo by Luísa Schetinger on Unsplash

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