Lying To Prove a Point

Lying is bad, right?  Well, I'm not sure.  Sometimes an idea is best explained by using it in a narrative.  But if you have not experienced such an illuminating situation, you have no such narrative to tell.  So your only option is to lie.

If you want to explain why a child shouldn't go with strangers, you may need to tell a story that never happened.  It highlights all of your concerns annd explains the dangers even though these things have not happened in frnt of you.

But lying to prove a point has its limits.  Suppose you are trying to convince somebody to make a prudent investment or to avoid a frivolity.  In this case, lying will hurt your goals.  If you give fake numbers or fake ratios, you have merely spouted useless drivel.  Certain subjects, like math and logic, cannot be BSed well.  To use a logical point with irrational support defeats the purpose of doing them in the first place.

Forgetting Ideas

Ideas come to us, sometimes when we don't even realize it.  But when we do realize we have an idea, it is a true wonder.  It is amazing that we have created such a thing.  It is a little miracle.  But if we do not cement that idea somehow, we will forget it;; that little miracle is extinguished.

Forgetting an idea is a tragedy.  Nobody knows where one random idea may take you.  Forgetting that idea is taking away the possibility that anything could come of it.

Recording your thoughts is like hiding a present that you leave for you to find later.  You record your ideas when you do not have the time or energy to work on them.  If you put them all in one spot, or if you leave them in several spots, you can come back to them later, when you've long-forgotten what you had written in the first place, and be amazed at what you find.

Some of them may trigger memories.  Some may seem completely alien to you.  But know that they are all yours.  They are wondrous gifts that you have left for yourself.  They are ideas, put into cryogenic slumber, waiting indefinitely for whenever you would choose to revive them.

Don't let yourself forget ideas, even the dumb ones.  They're all tragedies.  Save your miracles for however long you can.  Some ideas ripen or mature.  Some never lose their freshness.  Some may go out of style, but later return.  They're all good.  Treat them as such.

Divorcing Art From Artist

Who is your favorite writer?  Why is that person your favorite?  Is it the way they tell a story?  Is it plot, characterization, scene building?  Is it the larger ideas presented in their work?    Does it have anything to do with the author's personality?

How many authors have you personally met?  For all the ones you have met, how did it affect your view on their work?  Did nice people feel like better writers?  Did you even want to read something a jerk wrote?  How come you pass a different judgment on writers you know than on writers you don't know?

Is it fair to do such a thing?  If so, why?  If not, why do we still do it?  Does anything other than the work itself matter to the audience?  Would you like your work to be judged as a reflection of yourself or would you rather have it judged on its own merits?  Whichever your answer, will you treat others as you would like to be treated?


P.S. Did you like how every sentence in this post was a question?

Can You Say It Drunk?

I believe that writing is a representation of speech.  I read at speech's pace because I say each word as I read it.  But even if you are a speed reader, you record them as speech.  Each word matters.  And the order and melody of the strings of words (also known as phrases) still register, even if you are a speed demon.  As such, if your words are cumbersome, they will trip up, slow down, and turn off your readers.

I had an experience earlier today that illuminated a good test for writing.  My mom has a temporary handicap parking permit and we are making light of the situation (better than taking it too seriously).  As such, my parents refer to her as a crip.  When we drive somewhere, we look for "crip parking".  This really bothered me, though.  Not because it's terribly politically incorrect (that's the best part about it).  It was just a mouthful to try to say.  I fiddled around with it and figured out that the /p/ at the end of 'crip' was making it difficult to say another word after it.  It also made it sound harsh (which is probably why it's so effective as a gang name).

I always liked using 'cripple' instead of 'crip'.  She needs "cripple parking", where we hang up our "cripple tags" and sit in "cripple chairs".  Although it adds an extra syllable, it softens the word significantly, making it easier to say the whole phrase and making it more silly and aloof, which is what we are shooting for in the first place.

Along with that realization came the other one: the best writing can be said with the least required control; you should be able to say it while you're drunk.  It reminded me of a comedian who had a joke that Budweiser is the most popular to say because it is easiest to order while drunk; it's just "Bud".

I don't officially recommend drinking, especially if you are underage, but the idea is sound.  Either get drunk, pretend to be drunk, or find some other way to be lazy, and say out loud what you have written.  If you can say it while not in perfect, precise control of your mouth and tongue, you have some pleasant writing right there.

Except For When It's Not

Writing is always fun, except for when it's not.  Laughter is the best medicine, except for when it's not.  Absolutes always have this format.  It's another way of saying that there are no absolutes.

I came up with that little phrase as a joke.  Every now and then it gets a laugh.  But really, it's a way to see the world around us.  Life is always great, except for when it's not.  No matter how wonderful things may be, sometimes they will suck. What are you going to do about it?

What will you do when writing isn't fun?  What will you do when your ideas are stale?  What will you do when your storytelling falters?

As usual, these are questions with no universal answers.  Look inside yourself for them.  What would you do?  Try harder?  Take a break?  Seek help?  Give up completely?

Find out those answers.  When you reach those exceptions to the rules, you will be glad you prepared.

Product vs. Process

Why do you write?  Is it that you love the product you create?  Is it that you love the process of writing?  There is no right answer here.  These are deeply personal questions and can only be answered by looking within.

I can see myself taking either side of the argument, so the answer is "both".  I think it's impossible to be solely one or the other.  So it's more about how much of each you feel.

This isn't really meant to prove anything or guide you.  It's just about learning about yourself.  I suppose that if you cared about the act of writing vastly more than you care about the finished product, you would be better off as a hobbyist.  But other than that, it doesn't prove much.

Still, I think it is a good piece of information to have.  It will keep you realistic.

Make Room For Micro Projects

Most writers started off writing little pieces.  They're easier to manage and faster to finish, so they're perfect for a novice.  As we get deeper into writing, we tend to work on larger projects.  Even if we stayed within a small format like the short story, we try to write a collection of them instead of a random one-shot deal.

But those small, random, one-shot stories are wonderful.  And when you are working on a large picture with your writing, taking a break by doing a quick little micro project is a breath of fresh air.  It's like a painter who does a random sketch on a napkin every now and then while working on a mural.

Sometimes, when we work on one thing for a long period of time, we get deep into the groove with it and never want to stop until it's done.  Other times, if we try to do that, we get burned out and have a drastic drop in productivity, not to mention quality.  If the latter happens to you, take a break.  Do a micro project.  Do a sketch, enjoy the process, and move on.

It doesn't have to do anything or be anything.  It's just a break from monotony, a refilling of your stamina.  It is a way to remind you of what you like to do and why you like to do it.