The reactionary writer

Some people cut themselves with razor blades; I continue to try to write. [ Me ]

When I started the Anvil & Sprocket several—five?—years ago, it was in part to build a regular practice of writing. I’ve been successful at that, more or less, although A&S is currently badly broken and I’m spending far more time fixing it now than I am writing for it (not a good scene). But critical reviews are hard work, and there’s also the time spent watching the movies, so as far as writing practice is concerned, things could be better. Also, it’s analysis, which is not particularly creative.

So I started my weblog, which lets me make content out of practically nothing. Or, at least, out of things I’ve seen other people write about. (“Thudfactor: The Echo in the Echo Chamber.”) But there’s a problem with this, too: it’s analytical; it’s processing information from one end, mashing it up, and pushing it out the other. There’s another slogan in that, but I’ll leave you to come up with it. But the point is, it’s all already there for me, and I’m just giving it a little spin.

I think I’m pretty well-versed in the craft of writing; I understand story structure and plot (good lord, with as much analysis as I’ve done, how could I not). I have racks of books about how to write: Natalie Goldberg’s books, Annie Lamont, Ray Bradbury’s Zen-writing book, and a host of methodology books and how-to-write books from people who’s books I’ve never read. Now, whenever the urge strikes to buy a new writing book I just read a chapter of Fondling Your Muse and remember why it’s pointless. I know I’m not having problems with scene and structure, partly because I understand how those work, and partly because I never get there. Same thing with plot and characterization.

What I seem to be having problems with is thinking. I’ve done everything I can to intellectualize the process, and now, every time I sit down to “imagine” my story, my attention slides around it to something analytical. I think my imagination gears are stripped. I’m not real sure how to get them working again.

Oh, and yes—writing for 600 Seconds might help, but I’ve noticed a tendency there to write for and choose topics that can be turned into essays, not fiction; and if I try anything else, I lock up again. I can’t even handle ten minutes.