Soo, this weekend was a busy one…saw Nemo in 3D, went to a memorial service, shot some bow and arrows at a sporting event at a local church-camp, held some adorable barely month-old kittens and went to an ordination ceremony last night.
Well, Nemo 3D wasn’t as impressive as I thought it’d be, the memorial service was sad but beautiful, and the shooting just left me sore. (I have a chiropractor appointment on Wednesday.)
My aunt has these adorable kittens and when they are old enough…I’ll get to take one home! Yay! And the ordination ceremony was interesting, (my brother-in-law was getting ordained as a minister)…
Anyway, the point I was trying to make was this:
Woke up with a sore throat and sinus headache this morning, so I must have caught something at that ceremony last night, uggh!
So here I am huddled on the couch with a blanket, my laptop and some soothing music and wondering how sleepy NyQuil will actually make me…I doubt it’s advisable to apply for jobs in a drug-addled state…hmm…
But of course I did everything else this weekend, instead of writing. I managed to create another cover page for a story…but nope, no writing done…
It made me think about some of the things that I’ve read from other writers on here: How a writer is an observer. Sometimes we become so preoccupied with observing, that we forget that we are also part of the reality that we live in.
Some emphasize that as a writer, it is just as important to live your life outside of the fiction world. Although things were certainly busy enough this weekend, it is something that I seem to be having more and more trouble with lately. Living in reality. Instead of zoning out…plotting, planning, hearing character’s voices in my head…
***One of the songs I was just listening to. I love the music in the Chronicles of Narnia movie. Another fine example of losing yourself in another reality!***
As the winter months come upon us, I start to dread it a little more…
Every year since I was a senior in high school, I’ve had what people call “the winter blues.” My doctor diagnosed it as “Seasonal Affective Disorder,” where my mood, attention span, etc. seems to be dependent on how much sunlight we may or may not get in a given winter. (I know, move some place warmer, silly! As soon as I get moolah, that might just be my plan!)
There is some correlation between serotonin and the brain, and for some reason, in the winter months…things are a little ‘off’ for me.
Things are certainly better than they were. I have a special sunlight lamp, my diet is much better and I try to exercise more, but there is something else that I notice. As I lose focus on the reality around me, I am able to lose myself in my writing and fictional worlds just a little bit more.
Anyone ever notice that a lot of great writers suffer or have suffered from some form of Depression? Robert Frost…Sylvia Plath…just to name a few…(one day I will do the proper research!)
While I am in no way planning to shut my head in an oven door, I find it interesting that as I become more withdrawn from the real world, the fictional world is welcoming me back with open arms.
This summer, I had the best summer of my life. (Everyone loves a summer romance!) I saw new places, I spent more time with my friends than I ever have before. I see this summer as bright and shining, full of sunshine a warm yellow; and the bright, rippling blue lakes that I drove by when I went to and from various places in the Finger Lakes area.
And for the first time in about a year: I didn’t write.
Four months went by. I hadn’t written a single thing. (Handsome guys will do that to a girl…) But it makes me question myself. Should I still call myself a writer?
My notebooks didn’t get forgotten…I still had them with me wherever I went. I jotted down a few ideas, came up with a character name, a different story plot, but I didn’t string more than three or four sentences together. No dialogue got written. I might have started two paragraphs in a story and then, hey, there was swimming to be done, and kissing and movies to watch and cuddling…
But here I am, back to reality. Ironic, really. Summer romance done, full-time job over. The reality that I lived in this summer was probably as close to a fiction one as I’ve ever saw myself in.
I suppose the idea is this: When dreams aren’t being fulfilled in reality, I try to live them in the fiction world. What happens then, when I have a really good day?
Hmm, it’s a troubling thought. But I understand, (maybe more than some,) how important it is to maintain a good balance.
And I blame it on that movie, The Words…damn that clever, thought-provoking writing!
“Eventually, all writers have to make a choice,” says a character in the film. Do you live in the fictional world? Or maintain a grasp on reality?
Hmm. Here’s a thought: Why can’t a person do both??