Random Insanity - Random Awesomeness

Continuing from my previous post, another interesting event happened during a Revising and Editing class I sat in at Cortland. In explaining how a colon can be used to introduce a list, the professor used as an example, "My favorite food is:" and had the class start calling out their favorite foods.

It was a slow start to get people to speak up, but the enthusiasm quickly snowballed. Soon people were calling out what they liked, others were commenting on how they also liked that food while others expressed their disinterest in the food.

The professor reeled the class in and continued on with the lesson, but it was amazing how easily the entire class could have been derailed at that point. I was thinking about how, if I am having a conversation with my friends, I regularly do find myself getting derailed or sidetracked by using an example which branches off into a new conversation (thus leaving the original one unfinished).

But I also thought about how excited the class got by bringing up foods they like. Even though food had nothing to do with the subject at hand (ironically, the colon), people responded quickly and positively to this random subject.

And I do that all the time. Whenever it's quiet and I can't think of anything better to say, I will come up with a random question. It sometimes seems completely insane to just say, "would you rather eat a walrus or a whale", but it actually ended up leading to some great jokes that lasted me through the whole weekend that I spent with my friends.

In short, the principle here is a fascinating one. We react to subjects we care about. Even if they sprout up unrelated to anything else going on, we still like it. Random insanity can easily result in random awesomeness. It may not make for the most exciting prose, but if you're making a magazine, you'll see that the pros learned this lesson a long time ago.

How Far You've Come

I returned to Cortland, NY to visit a friend of mine. While I was there, I was able to talk with my Professional Writing professors, who invited me to sit in on their classes. It was an absolute blast. It was such a rush being back in my old stomping grounds, talking about my the subject I love, and since the first class was Revising and Editing, and they were discussing punctuation, it was even focused on my specialty.

What really struck me, though, was that I knew everything there. Now, I've always been good at grammar and syntax, but it is not an easy subject. If you aren't very dedicated to studying it, it will take you a while to pick up the nuances of using colons, semicolons, dashes, and parenthetical commas (the specific subject of that day). But that day, it took all my strength not to just blurt out every answer when the teacher asked a question.

And that was when I realized how far I've come. It's not just that I know how to use punctuation, it's that I know why to use it (to the degree that one even can understand why anything is done in our crazy language). And more than that, I know it for certain; I'm not guessing.

When I was taking that class for credit so many years ago, I did not know how to use dashes. If I was asked how a colon works, I would have to search my head to find the words to explain it. But now, I can just spout the answers as a reflex.

Look back at your own past. If you can, try to return to places or scenes that used to be common stomping grounds. If they haven't changed, then use them as a point of reference for how much you have. It is a wonderful boost of confidence to see how far you've come.

Live An Interesting Life

There is a common assumption that writers don't live lives of their own. They spend their life documenting or studying others, and turning those documents or studies into stories, so they never get to do any of the fun stuff - they only watch.

It seems like this belief is held by writers and nonwriters alike. Certainly, there are outliers, but it feels like so many writers are these timid or dull creatures who sacrifice their own life to enrich others.

But the sheer existence of outliers proves that such is not a rule. You can live an interesting life and also write about it. You could also write about anything else other than your life. It's your choice.

Is That Chapter Behind You?

It is quite common to describe life as a story. As such, we often think of aspects of our lives as chapters. This is totally cool. Certain events or challenges mark a period of time with an overarching theme. When we complete a task or reach a new understanding, that arc has finished and the next one begins.

But as great of an analogy as that is, it actually does not hold up as much in writing. Until a book is published, you can always go back to previous chapters. You can always change things from a slight tweak to a major shift.

To a degree, though, we usually do not want to make a change that is so big that you then have to rewrite everything that follows it (and some things that precede it, too). However, you do have the option if you want it.

You may have written the chapter and moved on to the next one. You may feel like it's now set in stone. But ask yourself: Is that chapter behind you?

You Have To Be Smarter Than Your Genius

I love smart characters. One of my most favorite stories are those of masterminds who create intricate and elaborate plans to accomplish a seemingly-impossible goal. I'm fairly certain that any character ever played by Anthony Hopkins qualifies as such.

What I hate is stupid stories written about smart characters. They invariably require one person to hold the idiot ball and make some mistake that is painfully obvious to anybody who enjoys this kind of story. When the genius is "the bad guy" and he is going to get foiled, there always seems to be some near-miracle that allows "the good guys" to solve the puzzle. I say "near-miracle" because some deus ex machina either places the missing link right in front of somebody's nose, or gives the problem-solver the ability to guess the most unlikely thing possible and follow that random hunch thoroughly enough to realize it was right.

I do not write stories like these for one main reason: I'm not that smart. I cannot come up with genius master plans. Every time I do, I realize that the situation could be solved through much simpler means and anybody smart enough to come up with the complex plan would realize that they didn't need a plan that complex.

If you really do want to write a story about a genius, you have to be smarter than your genius.

The Value Of Dedication

I've been doing this blog since January of 2009 and I've been working at my job since July of 2009. I honestly did not expect either of them to be particularly impressive endeavors. But as the years have passed, I have found that, in fact, both are incredibly valuable, and are impressive to many eyes (though for different reasons.

Cheff Salad is impressive for the sheer dedication, as well as the steadily increasing volume of my entries. Many people have started a blog, but very, very few believe they can write something once a day. Of those that try, fewer still can continue it for three years and counting.

My job is impressive for the steadily increasing volume of knowledge and experience I have in the non-profit arts scene. It is not the years at my job that are impressive, but without spending that much time there, I would not have accumulated these things that do have value.

Dedication generally pays off. It will probably take longer than you think it should, and it may not feel very rewarding during the rough times, but it will work out. And it may end up benefiting you in a way you never really expected.

If you want it, keep at it.

Hardwired For "Screw You"

I have studied two martial arts at length: aikido and capoeira. Every now and then, when I have a dream I remember, it is sometimes about me taking an aikido class, usually in my first dojo in Florida (which I have not been in for over 10 years now).

I don't like to analyze my dreams because I don't have a damn clue how to do that. However, I was able to analyze one rather interesting thing. Last week, I realized that whenever I have dreams about going back to martial arts, it is an aikido class. And last night, I had a dream which turned into an impromptu capoeira class.

This shows one very important thing about me: My brain is hardwired to say "screw you". It is so powerful of a response that I even do it to myself.

But here's why it's awesome: Creativity comes from challenging everything. Every time somebody makes a statement of fact, I challenge it. I go over all the facts, all the evidence, and I see if there is any way to prove that statement false. Sometimes, I take the alternate path, believing that the statement is false, and then constructing the world where such would be the case. For example, what if people could physically change their body through sheer force of will?

The "screw you" mentality can be a frustrating one. It makes everything take longer. It makes everything more stressful. It still becomes predictable when you know that every statement will be an argument. However, despite the frustrations, it can still be a beneficial and fruitful tool for ideas.