I have this strict schedule—Monday thru Friday—Five Posts a week…
The last post was about Scrivener—best writing software I’ve ever used—made me stay up so late it was early, for three days in a row.
Needed something to take me so high I could lay this body down in Peace…
My Muse tapped me on my mind’s shoulder and whispered—“Remember those ladies, The Pointer Sisters?”
The Elegant Drive?
The Smooth Rush?
The Soaring Heart-Felt Execution?
Did the YouTube search, found a gift for You :-)
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One of the “rules” of blogging is: “Don’t talk about yourself.”
Another “rule” is: “Let your readers know about you.”
Sometimes “rules” are dumb…
If people don’t understand anything about me as a person, how will they understand what I write in this blog?
The title of this post is my personal motto. Awhile back I posted an “interview” with myself and appended a video of Diana Krall, my favorite singer, with the song, Temptation, being an indication of those flames in my heart. That song has the flames Deep within and I thought I should give another, more obvious, example of what it means to be a writer with flames in his heart.
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For anyone who happened on this post by mistake, I put a cool music video at the end.
Please don’t tell the folks who actually read the post that it’s for them, too :-)
Back in February I wrote a post called Where Do Writers Find Their Ideas?. The post may or may not be valuable but the conversation in the comments really got interesting.
I hope some of you will read that post and its comments so you can become the scouts for the territory this post is revisiting.
I want to add a few notions to my ponderings about where writers find ideas and, if the gods of blogging allow, perhaps the comments on this post can recall and carry forward what folks began exploring back then–especially if we get a few scouts to help us in our wanderings…
A few of the comments back in February touched on writers finding their ideas in the lives they lead–essentially, right in front of their noses. While it can certainly seem that way at times, I’m going to step out on that limb I keep weighing down with my own ideas and suggest that even what seems to come from in front of us is actually coming from deep inside–somewhere about six inches behind the nose and seemingly buried in the black hole that leads to another dimension some call the soul.
For the truly brave readers, I’ll link to a page about some of Plato’s ideas and another about some of Jung’s concepts.
O.K., now I’ll wait for the scouts and brave ones to carry out their missions………
………………………………………………..
Alright, let’s carry on.
Look! There’s a writer right there, sitting at the computer desk writing on a piece of paper. Let’s peek over their shoulder.
I walked to the store. Strange lady there. Seemed kindly and normal till I looked in her eyes… Weird. She seemed to be damning me, calling me out on what I haven’t done for the kids, making me wonder–ok, she’s a witch but only uses her power to uncover what people are hiding from themselves. It feels like a judgement when she trains those violet eyes on you but she only wants you to realize your hidden strength, only wants the best even if if means a time of suffering through–
No, she wants no suffering and what looks like damnation of you is her own suffering, not being able to stop the manifestation of her power, her gift…………………….
O.K., I cheated.
I made the example adhere to my theory that even what seems like an idea from outside actually lives and breaths with what we add to it from inside.
But then, plenty of sane psychologists would say that everyone does this to some degree. Writers just can’t seem to help focusing on the process–taking what happens around them and infusing it with what-ifs and I betchas and spinning tales and knitting plots.
Then there are the writers who research various topics and use the fabrics of history as their launch pad. [mixing metaphors like that is one tactic some writers use to make their everyday minds jump the track and spin out yarns that glow in the dark]
Then we find the writers who go deep into the cave behind their nose and pull out whole worlds glimmering with unrealities that illuminate our lives with hope and courage, making our own dreams blossom and flourish.
Like almost all my posts, I don’t intend to lay down any rules or make up any musts. I want to incite. I want to prod. I want to tease out your own ideas; and, I pray you’ll play along and tell me the effect my words had on your own remarkable mind :-)
And, one last kind of writer, sitting alone with just their thoughts–full of characters they wish were real, that they’re working hard to make real. To that writer who can’t seem to let themselves crawl out of their cave and find a kindred soul, here’s a video with musicians from around the world, singing a song just for you:
Comments anyone?
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Follow the “co-author” of Notes from An Alien, Sena Quaren: On Twitter
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