Whether or not we are aware of it, we long to tell stories, because stories take the chaos of our lives and give our days and hours a shape, a sense of order, meaning, and even artfulness.
Jamie Cat Callan, “The Writer’s Toolbox”
The day was long. There were way more tasks in the queue to do than there were hours on the clock to accomplish anything. Yet, you still found yourself sitting down in front of your laptop weighing the balance – sleep or write until your fingers cramped. You spend hours upon countless hours planning and crafting, striving to weave a wonderful web of prose.You spend hours upon countless hours planning and crafting, striving to weave a wonderful web of prose.
Your fingers race across the keyboard, excitement bubbling up in your chest because this was the inspiration you needed to get your writing over this obstacle and the story where it needs to go. Words appear faster than your fingers can craft as you pursue this idea, following where it leads.
And the best part is that you feel free!
Absolutely no restrictions stifle your creativity. Nothing telling you what you can and cannot say. No one telling you how this idea is supposed to be told. Free. Your words glide over the page, maintaining velocity with every new rush of an idea. Your mind soars over endless possibilities, birthing new ideas in its wake. It must be written. You must write it all before it slips into the beyond where you can no longer hold and nurture it.
This story will be praised and become an instant classic! Children will be mandated to read your story in classrooms and write book reports and essays from a work of art that you created. Your eyes hungrily consume what you assumed was an automatic masterpiece only to swell with tears for the HOT GARBAGE that you actually wrote. Your eyes grow the size of silver dollars with every punctuation error and every run-on sentence. Eyebrows rise to meet your hairline in shock at the multiple thought lines never forming a cohesive thought. The corners of your mouth sag miserably toward the floor in the horror of not coming close to what you intended to say. There is NO WAY, on God’s green earth, you are going to show anyone this cataclysmic travesty!
Your fingers hover over the delete key as you read the passage over and over trying to make sense of a single line. You start questioning yourself trying to figure out where it all went wrong.
Where was I going with this sentence?
How did this conversation with my family sneak into my writing?
Was this character even in this book when I started?
Was I asleep when I wrote this? Who told me that writing was a good idea?
About this career path that I have chosen for myself…
The beauty of telling a story is found in the heart of all the chaos. No. I am not saying that every scenario is salvageable. Some scenes are so bad that you should discard immediately with extreme prejudice. What I am saying is that the beauty of telling a story is discovered through resolving the layers of mystery that surround your message. There are so many angles from which to view the story that it becomes easy to rewrite the same scene 100 different times, 100 different ways and the story continues to be entertaining. That is part of the genius of storytelling. What separates you from the pack is how you siphon the nuggets of gold from the word-compost that you dumped all over your manuscript or work.
The number one tool in an author’s/writer’s tool kit is creativity. Taking that natural disaster that you named “last night’s writing session” and building symmetry and cohesiveness to your original thought is what makes the story worth writing. Pulling the crazy, unconventional ideas together to push a single message, brings order to the prose. Late in the evening when the dust has settled, just when you think the creative well is all tapped out, all of those “makes no sense” thoughts start to organize themselves into a complete picture.
Chaos becomes control.
When done well, it creates a unique spin on a story that has already been told.
Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there are no new ideas. Just a fresh take on an idea that was so different, that it feels new. Though your story started like a dumpster full of flaming trash, the embers finally burned down to reveal the gem buried beneath and it is beautiful. It is art. This is the payoff. Being able to see the chaotic wreckage that gave you headaches and backed you into corners come to a place of completion is a breath of fresh air. You are proud. This was the moment that you realized everything was leading you to this place.
An end where your heart is thundering in your chest.
An end where your cheeks hurt from the permanent smile plastered on your face.
An end that you can appreciate.
An end that quietly confirms within you that this is the thing for which you have worked.
An end that caused it all to make sense.
An end that made you realize that this is truly the beginning.