I haven’t done one of these Saturday Morning Posts in a while. Originally, I was going to do a Wednesday post. I’m deep in the editing swamps, and I had a lot of “editing” thoughts on my mind, so I thought I would write something like, “things to look for when editing – including bilocating characters and moistening lips.”
While the post would be educational, I sat down to write it on Tuesday morning and was…bored. Maybe it was the fact that it was 8 am and I had just spent all my mental energy on that day’s Wordle. Maybe it was the fact that I have a sneaking suspicion most of you (my beloved readers) don’t want to hear me go on about the technical side of the writing craft, because frankly, I’ve discovered I don’t either.
I like talking about writing, and so obviously that involves some talk about craft. But in general, I’m not a how-to website.
In fact, I’m not a website. I am a fleshly being. And so I like to rabble on about random things. That yes, revolve around writing. But no, I don’t have Five Ways to Give Your First Chapter a Great Hook or the Seven Best Ways to End Your Fourth Chapter.
I’m just here, talking. And that’s it.
It’s spring. I can feel it.
*insert image of me laying, pressed flat to the ground Aragorn style*
Here in Cleveland, we’ve been buried under snow since I think mid-January. I’m at the point where 30 degrees feels balmy, and when it is I switch out my winter coat for a jacket. BUT, it’s now been reaching up to the 40s, the sun is getting warmer, and that feeling, that distinct feeling of change, is here.
A sense that something is stirring, something is shifting. It’s just started. But it’s there. Things are moving. Spring is almost here.
I get excited about spring. I’m not much for the pastel colors, the obsessive amount of floral design peppering stores whether it be in clothing or home decor. I’m not much for the ducks and the little pink piggies, and I think the commercialization of Easter is weird and has the disappointing feeling of having to eat white chocolate because it’s the only chocolate that is left in the house.
And I also love winter. I love the low sun and the vivid sunrises and sunsets. I love snow and the crunch of ice. I love the quiet of long, dark days.
But it is exciting when you look up at 6pm and suddenly it is light outside.
Something new is on the way.
Sometimes I feel like I learn more from books I don’t like (and probably don’t finish), then books that I do.
I think it’s because when I like a book, when I’m into it, I’m into it. My writer brain has left the building. I’m sucked into the story and am too busy enjoy it to wonder why I’m enjoying it. I just am, and that apparently is enough information for brain. My brain is happy with the serotine it’s getting and wants nothing else.
But a book that I’m not liking? That turns on the Fix It part of my brain. I have recently sat down to some books where I resisted the urge to grab a pen and start making edits. I immediately starting thinking why I wasn’t enjoying the book. I started thinking of how to make it better, what the book was doing wrong.
And that makes me think about writing, about craft, story structure, etc. And when I sit down to write next, I think of those things. Things I don’t want to do, and the things that I should do.
But man, when it’s a book I enjoy, I turn into a monkey brain and am just like, “more peanuts, please?”