When a writer spends a weekend of work and fails, at day’s end, to have come up with anything exciting, where does the fault reside?
Is it the idea? The style? Or the writer herself?
Some chapters are anchors. They hold the plot in place; they establish what must be known. They don’t fly—they trudge dutifully toward that next, more exciting place. And yet, the same anchor can feel like something entirely not-good when it’s tied around the writer’s neck. The darkness is deep. And it’s a long way from the bottom.
Face it, Self. Some days are just blah. One is born there, lives there, seems destined to die there. Those stones in our shoes that ache so badly on the long walk to Story are ones we placed there ourselves.
In the Land of Blahs, we make mistakes. We judge ourselves unkindly. We throw babies out with bathwater. We do not see forests for trees.
Except sometimes.
Sometimes the Wizard of Blahs has a point. Sometimes the Wizard is telling us something we need to hear. Sometimes the Wizard knows the difference between good enough and better. And sometimes, he’s just the little bald guy behind the curtain.
I seem to recall going through something like this during the writing of The Spiritkeeper. There, too, I found myself facing an opening that lay deflated on the page, that gave the story nothing. That sad awareness led to a far better way in. That instance isn’t this one. And sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference. Or the reason for it.
A long thing, this yellow brick road of storytelling. Its cobbles aren’t smooth. Its way is winding. Its destination is not clear; false directions wait all along the path, with no friendly scarecrow to point out the right one. And frankly, the journey itself is one damned big pain in the butt.
And the nastiest little secret of all: The Wizard is me.
9 comments
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September 17, 2012 at 8:00 am
mywithershins
There are always days that we feel our work hasn’t been fruitful. Sometimes we need to realize what isn’t, in order to figure out what IS. As the Wizard, I’m sure you’ll find the magic you need to turn the blahs around, even if the excitement seems hidden behind a curtain at the moment. 🙂
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September 17, 2012 at 6:41 pm
Alexander M Zoltai
Sure wish you had e-editions of your books…
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September 19, 2012 at 8:26 pm
lynnbiederstadt
AZ… Me, too. If you’d ever like anything, I’ll send it to you, typos (that I haven;t gotten around to fixing) and all!
-lb
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September 17, 2012 at 9:06 pm
The Good Greatsby
I love your writing about writing. It can be hard to explain the emotional and psychological journey we go through as writers.
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September 19, 2012 at 8:25 pm
lynnbiederstadt
Paul, Thank you for that. It can be hard, sometimes, NOT to explain what we go through. You have always seemed to have such a good handle on “real” life… is that true about you?
-lb
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September 19, 2012 at 9:33 pm
The Good Greatsby
It took me a long time to realize the process was internally more valuable to me than the final product. People will only read the final product and won’t have any grasp of the psychological and spiritual high and lows that marked the journey.
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September 18, 2012 at 8:42 am
David Stewart
I hate the Land of Blahs. It’s harder to avoid than the devious Land of Internet Distractions. 🙂
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September 19, 2012 at 8:22 pm
lynnbiederstadt
David…And it’s a sneakier little bastard, too! Luckily, it’s a self-healing condition. What do YOU do to get through that wicked territory?
-lb
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September 20, 2012 at 12:48 am
David Stewart
I find Blahland harder to navigate out of. I think it just goes away with time, but if I can write something I feel good about that helps. At least with Internet distractions I just cloister myself in a cafe without wi-fi? 🙂
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