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On the radio at lunchtime, there was an article I was half listening to which discussed writing. Amongst other aspects, it discussed speed and consistency. At one end of the speed scale, William Faulkner wrote "As I Lay Dying" in just six weeks in 1930. This was while holding down a full time job, and writing between midnight at 4am.
It is said that having finished it, it was published without a word being changed.
At the other end of the scale, they related the approach of Donna Tartt, who took 10 years for each of three books.
There was a conversation about the best way to write. Every day, or just when the muse takes you? Stephen King writes 2000 words a day come hell (very likely) or high water. One of the contributors said she wrote "something" every day, even, I inferred, if it wasn't good or directly related to a major project. Just keeping the writing muscles and joints oiled.
Before I started this blog - and in no way am I comparing myself to William Faulkner or Donna Tartt - I think I would have surprised myself to think I could produce something every day (let's park the unseemly events of "non-blog Saturday" for now). Gel and I have discussed the blog, the benefit I get from it, and the content (the fact that our friends having nothing to talk to us about since it's (nearly) all in the blog). Writing it is a great discipline but as Gel so rightly says I have the significant benefit of a "reason". Motivation. Sometimes I hear people saying they are creative, and that they'd like to write something but don't really know what, or how to start. Well I have a motivation, and that's a great start.
What I need to do now is improve the content. The purpose of the blog was a) for me to have the discipline of committing something into words every day, and b) a mechanism for people to keep up with how I was doing. However, there is only so much hat, food, baseball, kitten related verbiage that people will put up with.
I need to be a little more engaging than "i cooked this", "I wore this hat", "the kittens are cute". Not that I can entirely do away with that, but there needs to be something with a bit more meat behind it if I'm to keep my readers happy.....and me too I guess. I don't want people reading it because they feel obliged to.
I've had a few very (perhaps that should say very few) flattering comments about my writing. Writing in short daily bursts suits me. I'm sure if you checked, then the number of words I actually produce is quite small. Without getting too down on myself, that's the nature of blogs. They aren't meant to be long or involved. Short sharp bursts.
Over the years when I have had bursts of creative writing - mostly satirical articles a la Private Eye - they have also been very short pieces. Do I have what it takes to expand the blog a little beyond the parochial details of my life? While I have a "reason" for the blog, what is the "reason" for the expansion? That should remain the same, but my discipline needs to focus on improving the depth of the content. Could whatever I do be expanded into something more substantial. Do I have what it takes to create a short story, for example? Should it be fictional or just more "in-depth" musings on the world.
When I was setting out the terms of reference for the blog, the one thing I was clear about was that it wasn't going to become a confessional. I wasn't going to express my deepest darkest thoughts (or my happiest most optimistic thoughts come to think of it). It's not something I feel comfortable with, and to be honest I'm sure you can probably work out what they might be, and this style of blog has been done much better by people other than me, cf Dina Rabinovitch, Lisa Lynch.
But there's no reason why I can't be more thoughtful about things I see and do. Having bigged up my Wythenshawe picture the other day, I need to be careful about managing your expectations about changes in the blog. The next part of the blog may reinforce this. It isn't a hat/cat/cooking piece, but nor is it "the meaning of life". Don't expect a novel, but if I work at it, this could be a stepping stone to writing something a little more substantial.
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I'm sure it has many other names, but I call it "red door" syndrome. This is the effect that as you wander through life you will see lots of things but not notice them. As soon as someone says "have you seen how many red doors there are?" you suddenly become sensitive to red doors, seeing them everywhere. Having committed to buying a Skoda Yeti, I have seen nothing else on the road.
This prompt doesn't need to be external, and in the case of one of my "red doors" was something I became sensitive to a few months ago.
St Paul's Parish Church, Wilmslow Road.
What are churches built from? Stone of course. All of them. Churches, minsters, cathedrals. Stone (or concrete and glass in the case of newer 1950-onwards churches).
Except of course they aren't. Some (many?) of them are built of brick. It every time I see one it surprises me (I was going to "shocks me" but that's a bit strong).
There's another I know about in Cheadle, and one in Knutsford (which will be a double whammy when I share that one as I cycle past it on my route so can include in the "Interesting Views of my Cycle Ride" series).
Am I completely off beam with this idea that brick built churches are rare? What are your "red doors"?
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Postscript: I was going to call this blog "As I Lay Daying", but thought better of it.
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Blood and wee all see fine. Ready for the chemo tomorrow.
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