"... I want a legacy. All the suffering and pain that life brings, it should be for something. From this life we should birth a legacy: be it children or a monument, a book or an idea...life seems like a very long incubation period where we should "produce" something. What will I birth?"
This is an excerpt from an e-mail I sent my friend earlier today after being incredibly moved by the Michael Jackson Memorial coverage. This one joined many others that have shown up in my dear sounding board's inbox. She then moves them to a folder labeled "Jennifer"--this folder by now containing enough of my observations, desires and frustrations to publish my biography. Sadly, those words--my best work--live like pennies at the bottom of a piggy bank, to be seen by no one else. This raw passion of mine that I can barely channel for my fiction writing is like a beautiful collage of colors hidden from the view of those who truly appreciate the kinds of colors I create--thereby robbing my collage of its true purpose. I say all this because as a writer, inspiration means everything to me. Michael Jackson's death and today's homegoing celebration roused feelings in me that I haven't felt in a long time. As my three unfinished novels sat on my flash drive, I instead composed an e-mail, instead of a paragraph to bring me closer to the finish line.
My friend suggested that I keep a journal, and when this "inspiration" comes over me, record the words on the journal's pages instead. I've tried this, but I don't stick with it. My question is, how do I transfer my desire to wax poetic in an "e-mail to nowhere" to furthering a character's day, to adding that pivotal scene between my protagonist and his sidekick, all to create work that will reach the eyes of many?
Reality vs. Fiction--my ability to create words effortlessly (as in this blog post) but stare blankly at one of my short stories, processing too many thoughts at a time to extract a single one that would make the story better. These are my musings.
But are they the musings of a storyteller, or of a transciptionist of inner emotions? Are these roles one in the same?
Pray that you always stay on said friend's good side *insert evil laughter*.
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