Showing posts with label writer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writer. Show all posts

Monday, May 5, 2008

The seeds have been planted

0 comments, o views. Funny. Maybe I should concentrate more on writing my ms (manuscript) then on blogging. But something tells me that I should be doing this, for a number of reasons, and I have learned to trust my instincts even if I 'm not sure of the language they are using to speak to me.

I briefly toyed with the idea of researching strategies to supercharge the traffic to my blog but then thought otherwise. I've had to scratch and fight so hard to get my other projects to publication that I feel like I deserve a crack at trusting to fate. So I've decided I'm going to leave the blog in the hands of the of the "word-of-mouth gods" and if interest is generated then so be it.

The central theme of "happiness in the modern world" has been bouncing off of the grey-matter walls in my head for days. Pressure creates diamonds and I think the same applies with ideas. Constant musing on ideas - with numerous iterations, changes of mind, reshaping, going off on tangents - generally leads to moments of clarity. These moments usually occur when you've taken a rest from staring at the same spot, like some madman, talking to yourself while trying to reach a revelation on the central theme of the story you're going to tell. Out of habit, I try to frame the central theme into one sentence that will encapsulate the story that I wish to tell. I find that this technique stops me from trying to write about too many themes and muddling the true message of what I want to get across. My father, a very wise man, once told me that the best tasting pizza is the one that is simplest, because you can be sure to taste the flavour -too many ingredients and the flavours are lost.

Anyhow, I digress, please forgive me.

Back to the central theme of "happiness in the modern world". I have a character forming in my head and his name is Raymond Figg. He is sitting on the side of his bed with his head held in his hands. A year ago he suffered an anxiety attack and the resulting depression has changed his world forever. Before his anxiety episode he had everything a successful guy could want: a great job, a loving partner, friends. He has told no one that he's suffering, not even his family, and he refuses to seek help. He thinks he'll be alright. I (the writer) am not so sure and I begin to worry for him. I want to know more about him? What happened? Where did the anxiety and depression come from if he had such a good life?

It's time for bed (for me the writer) and as I close my eyes, Raymond's face appears and he begins to talk to me. Here we go, the madness of creation begins.