A writer often is often asked: “What
do you do when you are struck with Writer's Block?”
You know, that dreaded experience of
trying to get the next project off the ground, but find yourself
staring at the screen or notepad for hours because the words, story
ideas or subject matter are nowhere in sight. Finding any inspiring
idea just seems like trying to hunt and trap an extinct mythical
creature that can no longer be caught and tamed. Frustrating!
That's your hard core definition of Writer's Block, not having something to write about. However, believe it or not, in my experinece that's somewhat rare. A 'block' also has its common variety of niggling frustrations that are more common.
How about the kind where you have your
story or academic subject matter ready to put to page, depending on
where your creativity is leading you, everything is all laid out in
your notes or plot sketches, you have all the information you could
ever want, but you still can't seem to start the thing? The first
paragraph, not to mention the first page or three, is crucial because
you know that's your opportunity to catch your reader's attention.
You hope you nail it … but.....you could botch the whole thing and
turn your reader off forever.
This expectation of making a good first
impression can weigh a writer down, literately block them from
starting because nothing sounds and feels right when you type or
write it out, and then the anxiety sets in that convinces you're a
hopeless mess-up, which makes it worse. Nothing seems to 'gel'
together, so I will metaphorically call his icky place the dark
paralysing world of “Writer's Anti-Gel”.
When starting the first chapter, of
“Faust: My Soul Be Damned for the World, Vol.1”, guess who
literally sat for two days a good half of the third staring at a
blank screen coaxing the creative muse to appear with loads of coffee
and chocolate until FINALLY the first introductory paragraphs
'gelled' into place. (And no, I wasn't goofing on the Internet, I
wasn't connected at the time. I was off it several years in fact!)
Writers will tell you just hammer
something out and then edit the crud out of it later: you won't get
anywhere unless you force yourself to write and get a first draft
together, because if you wait for inspiration, it'll take half a
lifetime before you get a book together.
Yes, there is truth to that, I do hammer things out be it good or bad once I get into the actual draft and there's something to build on and then edit, but the first paragraphs, (and okay, I'll admit, a good portion of my texts), I like to make sure it sounds perfect in my head and I'll keep editing it as I write instead of just writing away without polishing as I go, so of course, I get stuck in the parallel non-creative gloopy gloopity glop slow-paced dimension that is “Writer's Anti-Gel” until it finally gels in the right direction.
The thing is, the last paragraphs and
closing segments are just as tricky in their own way as the first.
“Faust” is a historical academic epic so to speak, so naturally
the end of the chapter has its own unique requirements. I needed a
satisfying conclusion that gels in a way so it's not rambling but not
abrupt either, something that makes a lasting impression regarding
the vast amount of information just presented and that rounds the
whole thing off just nicely in a page, preferably less, maybe with a
memorable kick.
Well, when I was nearing the end of
that first chapter I got stuck in the non-gelling “anti-gel”
universe again. When you're writing about how a real historical
individual may have sold his soul to the devil for knowledge, power
and worldly glory, and you want to round off this gruesome history
'quite nicely' with a 'memorable kick', that's a tall order!
Of course, I knew I was going to be
staring at the screen for days on end with this doozie, but rather
than succumbing to staring and wasting time moaning in the Realm of
Anti-Gel, or hammering out just anything until it was squished and
prodded into place and still feeling like a product that was way
below par even for a draft, I did what any desperate writer does ….
I prayed. Yes, seriously.
No, I'm not kidding.
I thought of my Guardian Angel, who
often gets ignored even though I know he's there.
We never think of
our invisible guardians enough or ask their assistance, even with our
daily tasks. They don't just guard us from temptation and danger,
they like us to involve them in our lives. They take a keen interest
in everything we do and they like helping us in our work, (as long as
it's not sinful of course!)
So, I reached out to my neglected
princely friend and told him what was needed to finish my first
chapter and asked if he could enlighten me with an idea, maybe let me
know how to polish it off ....
Then...'It' happened.
No sooner was the request made when the
words started to interiorly flow so quickly like a bubbling
cascade
it was like I was taking speed dictation. I was literally yelling in
my head 'Not so fast! Not so fast!', my fingers tapping away trying to capture that miraculous flow as the text rolled out
right to the very end...then, stopped.
This was so different from the 'running
flash' of inspiration to where you don't want to stop writing because
you're on a roll. I've had that too quite a few times, but when
those 'running flashes' happen, it still feel like it's you and your
ideas. This wasn't exactly like that. It was really was as if
“someone else” was interiorly dropping the words and I was doing
my best to keep up with their pace. Prayer answered!
Here it is, the final paragraph to the
first chapter of “Faust: My Soul be Damned for the World Volume I”,
which I cannot take credit for. I give it fully to my Guardian
Angel:
“Faustus, who embraced evil and
shunned righteousness, became the foremost symbol of the misuse of
free will, that sublime gift from God with its inherent opportunity
to choose virtue and reject iniquity. “What shall a man gain if he
has the whole world and lose his soul,” (Matt. 16: v. 26) - but for
a notorious name, the ethereal shadow of a career, and a brief life
of fleeting pleasure with no true peace? This was the blackest and
most captivating tragedy of all, few could have remained indifferent
to the growing intrigue of this individual who apparently shook hands
with the devil and freely chose to descend to the molten, sulphuric
chasm of Hell for all eternity for so little in exchange. It is a
drama that continues to fascinate today as powerfully as when Faustus
first disseminated his infamous card in the Heidelberg locale to the
scandal of his generation. In fine, a life of good or evil, the hope
of Heaven or the despair of Hell, Faustus stands as a reminder that
the choice between these two absolutes also falls to us.”
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If you find yourself stuck in a situation, no matter what it is -- don't forget to pray.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS - See other posts on "Books, Babble and Blarney"
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If you find yourself stuck in a situation, no matter what it is -- don't forget to pray.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS - See other posts on "Books, Babble and Blarney"
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