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On Writing…

I had a really good ‘Mir Night’ aka writing night. I feel all invigorated and shit. (Yeah, I’m done writing eloquently and shit ha ha). No seriously I’m only leaving my story because I came to a pinnacle point in the story and I know that I might have had a little too much Jim to do it justice, I need to come back to the climax at another point, but luckily I got really great notes on everything so I’m good to go. I guess I’m feeling a little writers high because I picked up this story I started (actually when I was pretty trashed) but then forgot about. I found it, fixed all the many typos, misspellings and run on or nonsensical sentences and decided to work on it properly. It was actually just one of those practice writes where I gave myself a prompt and went with it. I found it, went back and read it and realized it wasn’t something to just be thrown away. Over a drink and a cigarette, I analyzed it and took some notes of what I thought it was missing. I wasn’t sure of where I was going with it (as it was a free write) but I thought about what I had and where it could go and what could be. I went outside for a think and a cigarette and took vigorous notes. I don’t know. I guess that’s what the high is. I just had so much fun putting the puzzle together of a potential good story and the different ways I could go with it. To be honest, I had more fun figuring it out than I did going back and actually fililng out the details. However, I was having fun with those and the writing of the bit I got actually written out this evening too.

I donno. The funny thing is that since graduating from SU I’ve been more methodical about my approach to writing. In high school I was big on the whole Jack Kerouac stream of conscious thing, or just only writing when inspiration hit. In college I was amazed by my ability to write on demand. I’m blown away that I was able to turn out a story a week for McDowell’s fiction class. It really told me what I was capable of, when demanded. So when I got out of school, I thought I would be writing all the time but life took over. So I decided long ago to make “Mir Nights” in which I hide away in my bedroom with some bottle of booze or another (to be honest) and focus on nothing but writing. Those weekly nights came and went. Sometimes I offered my precious nights to others on demand. Sometimes I offered them because I ‘wasn’t feeling it.’ However, even nights that I spent working but didn’t get anything actually ‘written’ I was totally working. I’ve become the opposite of the writer I was in early college years. Even for a short story I realize that to give it integrity and depth (even if the characters are shallow) I need to plan everything out. And that planning had become part of the writing high for me. I used to just get high on writing but then get stuck and let things simmer until they cashed out. These days I get a certain thrill leaving my laptop going outside with a cigarette, my cocktail, and my notebook to give it a good think. Tonight, that was my favorite part. I wrote the beginning of this rambling story and it was my job to give it substance and uniting purpose…and I did it and I loved working through it!!! Granted I haven’t finished it, but writing notes, feverishly about what should be said and why and how and pulling the big details in with the little just…gets me off in such a certain way that I know that really this is such a main passion in my life I’d be lost without it.

Anyway, yes, good Mir night. So good I apparently have to blog about it, but I really want to point out I did do a lot of writing but knew I had to quit at this stage. I’m hell bent on keeping ‘Mir Nights’ up on Tuesdays and just focusing on writing and hopefully having a bit bigger of a portfolio when I go to London. If not that, I need to be in the habit of writing. To be honest, I’m so excited about the opportunity I’ve been given to spend a year just writing, I can’t put it to waste. To a certain extent I think I failed myself in the amount I’ve written between now and when I graduated from my bachelors. There’s the saying that only x amount of people call themselves writers, only a smaller of x actually write regularly, and even an x smaller amount actually go for publishing, and only an minute x beyond that are published. That really opens my eyes when I think about it how I’ve been dickin’ around, just living ( thought for the betterment of my writing but not finding time to do so.).

            This profession being the only thing that I’ve felt pleasure doing…I want to do it properly. (Though I’ve found I have a second gift of creating a mean self tabulating excel spread sheet, I’ve found that ultimately puts me out of business ) I’m willing to accept the fact that I’ll have to fill out some Starbucks application forms once I “over educate myself beyond gainful employment” because I chose a silly degree, rather than a useful one. Well, I guess I am I father’s daughter…

All that aside maybe things all of this will pay off and the high I fell just writing stuff will translate into stuff being published and sold…here’s hoping.


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