Fiction Happens

Fiction Happens
Originally uploaded by Ink Spots

I had two whole hours of writing time at the coffee shop this morning. I forgot how much writing is like breathing to me. I use one of those books filled with subject ideas to start from since I have no real on going story. I'm back in my old habit of writing four or five pages and then summarizing where the piece would go if it was a full length novel (ha). Then I keep the idea in a fold with the others, then I can go back to it if the ideas stick with me over time.

The process of writing amuses me, at least my own. While it is very creative and free I find that I work best in a consistent environment, coffee shop, yellow lined pad, blue pen (preferably my mother's fountain pen). Of course the more time the better and if I can remember to bring this CD with me all the better.

Then I start writing, the words flow out with no plan, I am surprised often by where they take me. I can feel my breath change, become slower and more even. I loose myself in the worlds I create, I can see what my characters see down to the dirt in the corner of the room. When I pause or stop the world around me is sharper, more vivid. The present becomes written to me, I walk for a while in narrative.