Reaching a Plateau
August 1, 2001
7:13 a.m.
"I want to be an actress or a singer, but I don't think I sound good." Brigid said this a few weeks ago. "Why do you say that?" I replied. "Well, when I sing with the records I think I sound great, but when I try it all by myself I just sound like a little kid." So we talked. It was a good talk. She's almost thirteen, you know? She's trying on ideas for size and seeing which ones work and which ones don't. We talked about ways people practice, and we talked about how she might learn from watching others, and we talked about failing and succeeding and rejection and critics. Lisa and I have watched Brigid try on ideas for a long time, of course. And we figure she'll probably try on a few more before she's done. We worry. That's what parents do, after all. But I know that there will come a time where she will find something that she loves to do, something where the work is as important as the outcome itself. Who knows, though? Maybe this one is it ... "Whatever you decide to do, you should really want to do whatever hard work it takes to succeed," I said. "I know. I've already increased my range by singing Phantom of the Opera a bunch of times." "There you go." I nodded and smiled. We talked more, but that was pretty much the end of the real conversation.   I'm thinking of this conversation because I've just finished a big chunk of the book. I've moved twenty pages further into the story, and things are good. These were a difficult twenty pages, though. They are transition--or retrospection--or whatever. The bottom line is that they were tricky. They required all the skill that I had, and then maybe some more. But I'm sitting here this morning thinking I've done some pretty good work, and feeling pleased with myself in the most comfortable of ways. I have to look back and wonder if somewhere deep inside myself this is why I stopped where I did, why I went back and reread and "fixed" the entire book over the past week rather than move forward right away. I knew this was a tough spot. Maybe I didn't think I was good enough then. Maybe I needed to see things differently. I don't know. What I would like to think, however, is that my subconscious knew I could do it. Call it instinct or feel or intuition. Whatever. Reading the book again was the right thing to do. It gave me momentum. It brought the entire story back to me so that I was focused as I started this section. What I do know is that I can honestly, and without conceit, report that I am a better writer now than I was six months ago. I'm better at understanding plot, better at understanding character, and better at micro-writing. I hope it's okay to say that. I hope no one will think I'm being pompous or self-indulgent or just a plain jerk. I've been practicing, you see. And so I really should be a better writer now than I was then. No, I don't think I'm the next Lethem or Gaiman or Card or whoever. I'm just me, working at my own pace and striving to get better in my own way. I've tried hard to just stay "in the box" and focus on the story, and the characters, and just doing my best. I've remained productive. I'm a "fast" writer, you know? I can't help it. But I've worked hard this past few months to bring my best stuff to the keyboard every day. Above all that, I've done my very best to blot out everything else about the business so I could just have fun with the process. This is what I realized this morning: The re-read was fun. It really was. It was work, hard work in a lot of places. It frustrated me to know I had 150 pages of "bad" material waiting for me, while I dilly-dallied over the "good" 350. [Let's not question why re-reading 350 pages of "good" material was hard work in places, okay? Writing is difficult enough without finding ways to forgive a little healthy schizophrenia]. I worried about whether I was wasting my time. But it carried me. I see that now, and I'm quite content with the decision. It gave me what I needed to do the next twenty pages, and the next and the next. It was what I needed, right when I needed it. And in the process, just like Brigid, I've come to realize I've increased my range. Have a great day.  Geeze, Ron ... get a life Daily Persistence is © Ron Collins |
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"You can't start with how people look and speak and behave and come to know how they feel. You must know exactly what's in their hearts and minds before they ever set visible foot on stage. You must knoow all, then not tell it all, or not tell too much at once." Eudora Welty |
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