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Possession
Dec. 27th, 2008 11:35 amI was telling someone the other day how I often feel like I'm at the mercy of my imagination, how I have to monitor it with constant vigilance, be ready to harness its energy at a moment's notice (which is why I'm never without a small notebook) because anything and everything can set it off.
I was referring to the brief, but powerful flashes of insight that help me to better understand my novel project, those precious "a-ha" moments that every writer lives for.
But I just as easily could have been talking about an experience I had on Christmas Eve., when the urge to record a completely unrelated story idea, specifically a short scene between two characters, was so strong that I felt as if I was being possessed. Like there was some force greater than myself pulling all the strings as I scribbled, and I was nothing more than a conduit allowing the tale to be told.
The words and the images emerged in my head after Mike's stepmom told us about the daughter of one of her customers, a teenage girl who committed suicide after a long battle with mental illness. She called one of her friends right before to say she was gonna do it, saddling the poor girl with what I can only imagine would be a lifetime of guilt and unanswered questions.
That was the part that really got me thinking, and then suddenly there was this character in my mind, a teenage girl who gets a similar call, only it's from a friend who hasn't been a friend in quite some time. So at first, she's just wondering why the former friend is contacting her (I don't know what made them fall out, but my sense is that the caller ditched the callee to hang with a new crowd, because the callee was getting too "weird" for her by getting interested in goth or punk or something), and then she overhears the suicide and is left to wonder why she was chosen for this kind of call.
I jotted all of this down, happy to have a new concept to file away for future reference. I didn't give it much thought though, because my main objective is to work on the wrestling novel until it's finished.
Maybe an hour later, I get this vision of the new character in her bedroom, a vision so strong that it renders me incapable of any other thoughts, and I realize that the scene where her life changes, the scene where the former friend calls, is starting to materialize. I sat there for a minute, debating whether to explore the material in my head, and when I started hearing the conversation I knew I was on to something. I jumped up, pulled my notebook out of my bag, and spent the next half hour or so transferring my thoughts from head to page. It was totally unlike my usual writing process, where I labor over every word and revise as I go. The moment just unfurled right behind my eyes, and I recorded it as fast as I could, following the movement of the story, listening to the voices of the characters, doing my best to keep up and not miss anything important.
When I was done I had to stop and catch my breath, and wonder where in the hell that all came from. It was exhilarating, and I'm glad I gave in to my impulse, even if the finished product is super raw, and will likely sit in statis until I'm done with my current novel revision.
I was referring to the brief, but powerful flashes of insight that help me to better understand my novel project, those precious "a-ha" moments that every writer lives for.
But I just as easily could have been talking about an experience I had on Christmas Eve., when the urge to record a completely unrelated story idea, specifically a short scene between two characters, was so strong that I felt as if I was being possessed. Like there was some force greater than myself pulling all the strings as I scribbled, and I was nothing more than a conduit allowing the tale to be told.
The words and the images emerged in my head after Mike's stepmom told us about the daughter of one of her customers, a teenage girl who committed suicide after a long battle with mental illness. She called one of her friends right before to say she was gonna do it, saddling the poor girl with what I can only imagine would be a lifetime of guilt and unanswered questions.
That was the part that really got me thinking, and then suddenly there was this character in my mind, a teenage girl who gets a similar call, only it's from a friend who hasn't been a friend in quite some time. So at first, she's just wondering why the former friend is contacting her (I don't know what made them fall out, but my sense is that the caller ditched the callee to hang with a new crowd, because the callee was getting too "weird" for her by getting interested in goth or punk or something), and then she overhears the suicide and is left to wonder why she was chosen for this kind of call.
I jotted all of this down, happy to have a new concept to file away for future reference. I didn't give it much thought though, because my main objective is to work on the wrestling novel until it's finished.
Maybe an hour later, I get this vision of the new character in her bedroom, a vision so strong that it renders me incapable of any other thoughts, and I realize that the scene where her life changes, the scene where the former friend calls, is starting to materialize. I sat there for a minute, debating whether to explore the material in my head, and when I started hearing the conversation I knew I was on to something. I jumped up, pulled my notebook out of my bag, and spent the next half hour or so transferring my thoughts from head to page. It was totally unlike my usual writing process, where I labor over every word and revise as I go. The moment just unfurled right behind my eyes, and I recorded it as fast as I could, following the movement of the story, listening to the voices of the characters, doing my best to keep up and not miss anything important.
When I was done I had to stop and catch my breath, and wonder where in the hell that all came from. It was exhilarating, and I'm glad I gave in to my impulse, even if the finished product is super raw, and will likely sit in statis until I'm done with my current novel revision.
