Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Roshambo!

In an uncharacteristic move (and a possibly unsettling one for those who know me), I'm keeping this brief. In short, I’ve had an epiphany, courtesy of my kids fighting over the last of the gummi cherry hearts. It goes like this: to achieve balance, sanity, success as a writer, I must get my Roshambo on . . . play a little Rock, Paper, Scissors.

Let’s start with Paper, the medium of my chosen art form (ignoring, for the purposes of this strained metaphor, the Kindle and all Kindle-like devices). You wanna write? Then do it. Get your ideas on paper. Sit down and scratch out some prose. And do it often. But remember, as even the youngest Roshambo player quickly learns, you can't throw Paper every time and expect to win. At some point, those Scissors have to come along . . .

. . . and shear off the useless, the superfluous, that which hinders forward progress. Yes, I’m talking about cutting from manuscripts (you should have seen the carnage from our first professional edit), but also about life. Sure, it’s nice to make homemade confections for your kid’s bake sale, but what are those gooey chocolately squares doing for your characters, your plot, your agent search? A whole lot of nothing. Carve away the unnecessary. Stop by the bakery on the way home and call it good. Get some wine while you're at it. It helps.

And don't forget the Rock. (Anyone else picturing Dwayne Johnson? Shirtless? But I digress...) I’m relying on homonyms here to make this work but, again, it’s my strained metaphor so my prerogative. Rock. Not a stone for skipping, but Rock as in I Wanna Rock and R.O.C.K. in the USA and, dare I say it, Rock Lobster. In other words, ROCK! Surround yourself with kick-ass music. With transcendental art. With film and theatre and dance and paintings and clothing and humor and food that beckon your muse. That expand your mind creatively. Talk with people who challenge and inspire you. And then take that inspiration (and your glass of Cab, and one of the brownies you pilfered before shipping 'em off to a bunch of ungrateful third-graders), and start throwing Paper all over again.

3 comments:

Ivin Rhyne said...

You had me at Roshambo... and then lost me at "Rock". Might I humbly suggest that "Rock" might mean go out and LIVE in the real world of rocks, paper, scissors, water, motorcycles, blenders, and gummy cherry hearts.

You started to get there with music, but music is only one way to add real texture to your life. Take pictures, take care of your elderly grandmother, show up at PTA meetings. These are the places where stories actually happen and genius finds inspiration.

Pick up a rock and throw it across the pond just to watch the ripples.

Jayne Lynne said...

Ivin...
You might humbly suggest that...and I'd argue you are right...to a point. Anything that adds texture to your life can be inspirational, and I did not mean to suggest that music was the only way. (like I said, the metaphor was strained) In fact, I'd wager that some people (not me) would actually find inspiration in baking those brownies. However, engaging in activities that do not bring you joy can suck away at the precious little time most of us have to engage in our craft. And I still think listening to someone else living their art through music or watching them live their art in film, etc., can be the kick in the pants many of us (me) need and just might expand our horizons...

Ivin Rhyne said...

As always... balance, balance, balance.

That, as they say, is the trick.

(and who exactly is "they"? I have no idea)