Friday, September 27, 2013
LETTING GO OF MY CREATION. . .
Yesterday, I gave the first draft of my sequel Shadowwater, SHADOWWATER: Dark Sea to my friend to edit. As with other writers, artists, composers, the act of creating brings with it an emotional component. Not only the year long process, in this case, of writing a story, but the connection one brings to creating. I, as with many fiction writers, affix the adjectives such as spiritual or soul-driven to describe the act of creativity. An author taps all of her or his life experiences to produce their work.
Laughter, tears, anger, empathy--writing cleanses my soul and exfoliates all the dark matter that has collected in my brain. My protagonist Lili personifies what I am and want to be; Cal her lover, what I believe to be a man of the ages; someone I'd like to know; Miranda, an amalgam of friends whom I've lost or found. However, all my characters have complex lives that include conflicting memories. It is those reflections; recollections that they are forced to relive, even from the smallest of stimuli, which require their creator to also recall painful events: death, tragedy, hopelessness, despair. Think of it as method "writing". Reaching deep into one's soul for inspiration.
Wisdom espouses writers need years of life experiences to produce "great works of literature." Though I'll admit I'm the "right" age to write in those pundits' views, I don't pretend my novel is a classic of the ages. What's more tangible is an author who brings his or her range of experience to their work. A Pakistani school girl whose opinions on education almost got her killed has more to say, and therefore write, than most authors over the age of forty.
And a story should be sensory: an author strives to observe, absorb details in nature, for example through an artist's eyes: wisps of clouds floating in an azure blue sky. Other sensual memories which I may use: feeling the heaviness of rain on my eyelids or the scorching sun burning my skin or remembering the touch of a lover's hand on my body; hearing the sounds of Spring Peepers or Herring Gulls fighting for crumbs on the sand; inhaling the aroma of Pad Thai at a favorite restaurant, swirling with spices, and tasting its textures, layer upon layer, bean sprouts, peanuts, rice noodles, and the wet, sweet sauce all challenging the taste buds. All these sensations could be easily missed if the novelist isn't aware of her/his environment.
And then there's the sixth sense, often disputed though more accepted, which a paranormal/magic realism author must embrace to understand her/his character's "magical" gifts. To step away from oneself and imagine: my spirit soaring with the wings of an osprey; a crow acting as a sentinel; a sandpiper bowing its head to acknowledge the human who believes that all beings are connected, whether out-of-body or highly-attuned to the natural world, these could and possibly should have some foundation in reality. There will always be disbelievers. but for me, I must put any doubts on hold.
The experiential and the sensory co-exist, and, to be able to transfer these essential sensations to paper can be a draining emotional process or a therapeutic catharsis if you will. Thus when it is finally time relinquish one's creation, albeit temporary, letting go is bittersweet.
I'm still feeling disconnected.
Copyright 2013 Wendy Shreve
Sequel, SHADOWWATER: Dark Sea will be published early Spring, 2014. Go to www.shadowwater.net for latest updates.
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