Something to say?

My mind continually goes back to last summer when my workshop instructor told us "we all have something to say, that's why we write."

I wonder though - do I really have something to say?
Or is it really that I would like to have something to say?

Most everyone wants to be heard for one reason or another in their lifetime. It doesn't have to be profound or meaningful to humanity; people just want to be acknowledged. It doesn't necesssarily have to change the world or even ones part of the world. A simple "well said", or "that's an interesting idea/viewpoint" would be sufficient.

Is that what I am really after? Is it more that I have never felt as though I have been heard, really listened to? And perhaps being a "writer" will somehow give me the status/credentials/certificaton to be accepted as worth listening to? Am I tired of people not understanding what I am talking about, so maybe my written words will convey my thoughts better?

Maybe fiction writing is not the correct choice. Maybe that is why I don't know what to write sometimes because I don't want to "just" tell a story - I want to say something.


Interesting thought... glad I turned off the television.

Summer Writing Festival 2011...

I am registered for another Writing Workshop in June at the Iowa Summer Writing Festival!

I am excited more this year as I know what to expect and feel I will get even more out of this experience as I was rather anxious and nervous last year.

Granted, I have not been writing as much lately, but I have been reading - a lot. I get caught up in the research of my ideas. Perhaps as with life, the capture is in the pursuit. It just seems that I want to have all the details right, maybe a bit too right? Also, I discover one detail and that creates a new tangent that I get lost in and often forget where I started exactly. I guess I could have worse problems, huh?

I do find it interesting that as the weather has slowly been changing from winter to spring and nature begins to bloom, my urge to write is blossoming as well. I have noticed over the years that my most productive stretched always start in May. Odd, yet it makes total sense to a certain extent. Just as I get fat during the winter, my mind takes in more information and as I begin to get physically active to get back in some sort of shape (other than rotund) my intellectual activity begins to make shape of all the new and updated information I digested with all those holiday meals and treats.

To the adventure...

Words... or lack thereof...

I really dislike when I realize I have not written anything in an extended period of time. I tend to be hard on myself and I am not easy to appease in such moments.

I have been remodeling my parents house for the past couple of months on top of work and freelancing, so I shouldn't have had tome to write. I can understand this, but I don't accept it. If I can watch TV, why can't I write?

"Everyone needs down time," I am sure most would say; but mentally, I never rest.

Thus, I am not in a good mood, am having great difficulty finding my center and failing at not being frustrated, angry with myself.

Freaking headaches. Why can't I get rid of them?

Ug.

Summer Writing Festival 2011

Last week I was very happy to discover in my mailbox a catalogue for this year's Summer Writing Festival. After my weekend workshop experience last year, I am seriously considering a week long workshop. I can get the time off from work AND pre-approval from my wife!

What will I be attending? While I keep referring to my novel, which in reality will probably be edited down to a novella, I am more interested in a Short Story workshop. After my fiction writing course last semester, I am kind of still in the mindset of the short story, getting my point across the right amount of words and not worry about the total amount of words.

Some of the course names sound a bit, well, cheesy, but after reading their content they do sound like they cover a nice ranges of topics and a lot more time for interaction with other writers and instructors.

It is months away, but I am already excited!

Novel rewrite...

So, I have secured some office space that is quiet, a block from the downtown Iowa City and most importantly: FREE! The property management company I work for is allowing me to use the space until the rent it!

What does this mean? It means that now I no excuses and serious motivation to finally sit down and rewrite my now five year old first rough draft of my novel. Among other things, I suppose.

No Internet, spotty cell reception, no one quite sure where I will be... perfect combination for actually getting writing done.

If life would get any better I would feel like a thief...

Freedom...

A recent career change has left me with vast amounts of "free time", and for some reason I am still having a hard time adapting. Granted, I have been working towards this life style for years, but I guess I wasn't fully prepared to have some dreams become a reality.

Be careful what you wish for?

Perhaps...

With this change, I now have the luxury to read, to write, to think; almost exclusively on my schedule. I have the time to develop skills that are of a intellectual interest; fodder for the mind and soul. First and foremost is the time to write and revise works I simply haven't been able to develop. Getting my ideas out and on paper (or computer) has been the goal for a couple of years with the idea I would clean them up and polish them accordingly - when I had the time, of course.

And now... I do.

A very strange reality, indeed. Yet, how much time have I put into the revisions?

Zero.

Very odd...

What exactly is the hold up?

Nothing, really. I just need to be easier on myself, to be patient with my mind to make the necessary changes required to permit me to "work" on my projects. I also need to remind myself that by "messing" around with computers in the same manner has put me in this new life style!

Thoughts...

I have been reading more and more fiction lately in hopes to better develop my prose as suggested by a recent professor. I have been trying to stick purely to fiction; however, I seem to find myself falling back into non-fiction.

While I understand that reading fiction will only help my writing, I cannot break the habit of learning about the vast amount of subjects that stimulate my mind. I read some great piece of fiction that gets my mind going and then I switch to research mode and get swept up in the learning.

It is an addiction of sorts; that I will not deny. I get an incredible rush when I make new connections, develop new understanding or just learn something entirely new. Perhaps it was that for so many of my early years learning was a challenge; but also, I just never quite thought like the other kids.

And I still don't.

When I first began to get sober I realized for years I let myself believe that I was always wrong; that I just didn't "get it". I spent a lot of time and effort trying to "understand" and "fit in". What a mistake. Now I accept that I don't get it, and I no longer feel that my lack of "understanding" is a bad thing mostly because "it" doesn't make sense!

The world is a crazy and fucked up place. I often think that if I ever understood "it", then either I had caved and comforted, or I had become completely insane. However, I am not so sure these are mutually exclusive...

At any rate, I am wondering if I shouldn't fight the non-fiction urge, to appease the beast to aid in allowing for my fiction to come more easily.

There are so many thoughts, often mixed up between fiction and non-fiction; sometimes they are so actively bouncing off each other my heads spins, quite frankly I feel a bit out of control. I am still working towards that balance of writing, reading and thinking.

Doesn't seem like it should be at difficult, right?