It’s a Writers Life for Me?

(Another post like the last one, but different…sort of)

I didn’t sleep through k-12 but I struggled. It would be years after public school that I would get my first pair of low vision reading glasses. I had a learning disability and was told I had ADD. So here I am at 46, a poor speller, with a Fundamentals of Grammar book in one hand and my laptop in the other. I don’t know how to write fiction. I don’t know how to tell a good story. But I’m going to find out if I can learn.

I have been saying I’m writing a non-fiction book for nearly 3 years and have about 12 first chapters and reams of uncategorized ramblings. As much as I would like to write that book I think I want it to write itself. I’ve lost my way and my enthusiasm for it. I am pretty sure it would be an okay book. Maybe even good one. When I sit down to work on it, however, it feels like learning a language I don’t want to speak. At least it does right now.

I need to lube my joints. I miss making something from nothing or something from something else. In my visual arts I build stories out of objects. I want to see if I can learn to build stories out of words. So I’m going to try.

First lesson: Write. I’m working my way through the book Immediate Fiction, by Jerry Cleaver. Today I learned that you’ve gotta make your characters suffer. A lot. And then see how they deal with all the trouble you keep tossing in their way. Seems so mean. Do I conger an amalgam of a few people that have rubbed me the wrong way and sic the dogs on them? That might actually be kind of fun. Then there’s the idea that if I design this Franken-fuck do I want to spend all my writing time with them? I get ahead of myself.

I’m doing the exercise on page 38 (of my addition of the book) where Cleaver has given a few scene ideas to see what I can do with it. The scene I’ve chosen to try is:

“Trapped on a ski lift, on an airplane, or in a taxi with someone who starts talking or acting strange. The want is to be left alone, to be at peace to e safe. The obstacle is this weird person who is acting strange and maybe is dangerous. “

Earlier in this chapter the author explains that the character has to have a want and an obstacle. (hope I’m explaining this right). A big want, not just a want like “I’m thinking I want some chocolate milk.” More like “if I don’t get the hell out of this cab this wack-job with the bang-the-ho music jacked-up is going to do something really freaky that if I live to tell about it will damage me for..ever” want. The obstacle is the wack-job of a drive who has a want just as big as the characters. That’s all I know so far. I’m going to try and write a scene. My character is trapped in the taxi. Wish them luck because if I do this right, it’s going to get ugly.