Writing class last night. The week before I actually scored an enthusiastic "good work!" Just a lil' snip snip here and do some hacking there and this will be perfect.
**Rainbows in the sky during my drive home @ 10:30 pm** BLING!
Last night-- F!
No, not F exactly. Just my teacher trying so desparately to cram his lessons on narrative voice into my head like a beauty queen trying to stuff her back-up blow dryer into her already exploding suitcase--but the things he was trying so hard to tell me just weren't fittin!!! I bawled, "It's like we've got your puzzle pieces and my puzzle pieces and they just ain't slippin' together here! I JUST DON'T GET WHAT YOU WANT ME TO DO!!"
On comes my thinking face, interpreted by the class as my "woe is me, I suck as a writer" face. Not so, people. Not so.
I'm in class because I KNOW I need to LEARN a thing or two. Because I've written a 50,000+ word manuscript that was great as it came out, but just not lighting my fire anymore when I read through it again. I'm missing the boat somewhere here and that's why I attend this 3 hour long class every week.
So that someone can please help me! Help me, please!
Narrative voice...I thought I had understood but I still just wasn't gettin' it.
But I am a fiercely competitive person. Comes from my parents who would end the family's game of CLUE in a shouting match everytime...Oh and UNO...don't even get me started on that game of primary colors ('cept green). You have no idea how savage a game like UNO can be.
I left determine to figure this thing out. DETERMINED!!
Think Think Think Think.
Today I went to the library and filled my bag with a few Good'uns:
The Crossing, by Cormac McCarthy
Fablehaven, by Brandon Mull
Spells, by Aprylinne Pike
The Stand, by Stephen King
Story of a Girl, by Sara Zarr
What Dreams May Come, by Richard Matheson
Quite a variety, yes? Exactly what I needed. It's time to study people. Study an learn.
And I do believe IMHO that I am squeezing myself through a breakthrough. Maybe. Just maybe. Reading through first pages with all of Caleb's quips on voice running through my mind, trying so hard to SEE it. TO SEE IT!
And I think I see it. I THINK I get it.
Whether or not I am implementing it is yet to be judged. But I've rewritten Project #2s first chapter, and oh oh does it feel so good. It feels REAL. Whereas I was typing up skeletons before, I feel like I'm actually filling out some flesh, muscle and brains here. I've just got to talk a little more. Yes, in a craft most people need to desparately hone their CUTTING skills, I need to OPEN MY MOUTH (a tip you'd suggest I implement in my life away from fiction if you knew me)
The real goal, however, is to find that I've finally transplanted a BEATING HEART into my fiction.
I will know when Dr. Frankenstein, I mean Caleb, evaluates my creation. *sigh*
Run! Run...
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