Bard and I took our first creative writing course tonight by Debbonnaire Kovacs. This might actually push me to pursue an actual--gasp--career in writing.
That scares the crap out of me.
Why does it scare me? Well, I suppose it's because I'm really afraid. The whole "you can't fail if you don't try" kind of thing. Aside from that, what do I have to say that hasn't been said a million times before? And more cleverly, succinctly, authoritatively?
I guess Deb was afraid to pursue writing as an occupation, too. One of the things she said was that, as a writer, she really wanted to write about having a relationship with god, but she didn't feel that she was qualified to write about having a relationship with God because she felt she didn't have a relationship with God. Yep. That really struck home with me.
See, I have a strong desire to write inspirational stories. Now, by that, I don't mean writing lilting romance novels of young perfect girls and how they just don't know if God means for them to marry or not marry, then long about the middle of the book, they bow their heads and pray and then everything is alright and they marry the perfect man for them. Uh, no offense if you write lilting romance novels about such girls. Then again,why do people say that? If you're offended, you're offended? I guess I'm saying that I intended no offense.
What I intended to say is that I'm more into the gritty inspirational novels, things that look like a dim and dismal river on the surface, but spring forth with Hope eternal. Did you see Magnolia? That's my kind of depth.
But I have fears that paralyze me from writing beyond a few chapters of the ever-elusive novel or the daily journal. Fears like, what if my main character recognizes herself? What if my main character gets angry about what I've written. What if my main character is me?
What if I try to write about God's grace, and I don't really fully understand God's grace? Or forgiveness?
What if I invest my life into this really cool story, and no one gets it? What if no one understands it? What if I don't understand it?
Deb Kovacs talked about a story of her own that had originated as an interjection into her pastor's sermon. He'd asked her to repeat a theme she'd discussed earlier, expound on it into a five minute aside during his teaching. By the time she had finished speaking, everyone was affected, bleary-eyed and grasping for her garments, maybe hoping for a bit of healing or something. As she made her way shakily back to her seat, her friend leaned over and said to her, "You know you have to write that now, don't you?"
So she wrote it. She wrote it all out with confidence, word-for-word, just as she had spoken it during the service. And then she said it just laid there like a three-day-old dead fish. She said the connection just wasn't there. It didn't pack the punch like the spoken presentation had. But she sent it off anyway. She sent it off first thing Monday morning--mailed it to a Christian women's magazine.
And Tuesday afternoon, the editor of the magazine was on the phone, telling her that they loved it, that the only thing they wanted to change was the male character's name.
They've reprinted the story several times. It's one of the articles that's most commented upon by their readers. Now they've asked her permission to put it into a collection of their best stories.
A dead, stinking fish.
So many times, I've abandoned my writing because I don't think I'm making any connection. Sometimes I feel like I don't really know my character, or the subject about which I'm writing is a bit too foreign for me. Or, I don't know, it just stinks.
And sometimes, I just plug on with it, and I learn something new. Or I just toss it out there the way it is. And someone catches it. And then, the energy they give it from the value they get out of it drives me on. And then I feel energized.
There are a lot of people rattling around in my head. This class may just give me the feedback and energy to flesh them out, put them into a story. Even if it is a dead fish.
And maybe there's a sea lion out there somewhere just waiting to catch it.
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