A Writer's Challenge
Being a writer is awesome. I can write what I can't say.
It is truly a gift to be able to write about things which can shift somebody's perspective, maybe one day save a life. Seeing something in your imagination and writing the story as it unfolds, what I love about being a writer is you know what happens before anyone else does.
Writers are not limited by reality, in our books we set the stage, the costumes and direct the characters from where we sit on the other side of the computer screen.
The only thing that writer's cannot do is stop. And if they do, it had better be urgent and with good reason. But sometimes it's hard to know who is in charge, the characters or the writer themselves.
Although I had set out to write a ghost story, I was thinking more along the lines of Meat Loaf and Marion Raven's 'All Coming Back To Me Now' video-clip. I went kinda Kripke and things went a little too dark.
For the past three weeks in the spare moments of my lunch-hour, I have been writing long-hand a novel about ghosts and physics. Supernatural Fiction. Darkly funny. Sexy.
The kind of book which would potentially put me on the best seller shelf and by extension, maybe land me a million and producers begging for the rights to the movie.
But on Friday I shredded those thirty pages with a sad sigh - because I will never know what happens to my characters.
Today in the lunch room my work mate asked me. "So Sarah. Why write about ghosts?"
"I didn't have any inspiration for anything else. I'm sick of my typical genre and wanted a new challenge."
"I wouldn't entertain anything like that, it's of the devil." Another work mate said gently and didn't say anything more about it
Before you horror fanatics go into a frenzy, let me just say: I agree with her.
I grew up in a house with restless spirit, saw something once in the garage which scared the heck out of me. I know firsthand that 'scary stuff' is very real.
So what was I doing writing about it in the first place?
If I was just a writer - it wouldn't matter. I'd just be doing a job.
But as a Christian - it's just a tad unsettling. And that is what my work mates were concerned about, that I was using my God-given gift for something unGod-like.
Being a writer gives you the power to sway readers, move them to the point of tears and bring happiness simply by turning a page. But as we know, there are some things which should not be written, let alone read - because the power works both ways - for good and evil, simply because this world has both.
The power of words has an incredible (and devastating effect) on people and as a Christian, I had to decide which effect I wanted my words to have on the people I would be writing them for and myself - because for the past two weeks when I crawl into bed I have fallen asleep with the blankets over my head. The other day when I was at work, I was putting away the equipment into the shed and suddenly, the wind howled and let's just say I got a bit jumpy and began singing 'Fruit Salad' by the Wiggles...because that would just terrify me if I was a ghost! (Haha..)
After speaking with my friends about it, I made the choice that as a Christian, I would write to glorify God with my gift and even though it was extremely difficult, did what needed to be done.
I tore the lined pages out of my purple note-book, clutched them to my chest and said to my friends. "When I come back I'm going to need a Kit-Kat and a hug!" before setting off determinedly to find the nearest shredder.
"Are you crazy?! Don't do this! You'll never find out what happens!" Sulked my inner-writer.
"Why not just keep writing it? Go on a little adventure. You don't have to publish it." Said a silky voice in my ear.
"If you do you'll never find out if Nathan and Daphne get together!" Whined my inner romantic.
"Claire, sit there until I shred every page." I instructed our receptionist.
Despite the conflicting voices in my head, I sat there and shredded each and every single page; saying a teary farewell to Nathan, the hot ghost hunter with his devil-may-care smirk, smoldering green eyes and low, husky voice. Afterward I felt a little strange, kind of like the feeling we have when we lose a friend. But then again, there are some friends we are better off without.
Maybe I'll resurrect Nathan in another novel. A novel which is about life, laughter with absolutely no trace of mind-altering paranormal matter which makes people nervous enough to break out into a song!
The moral of this story is there are stories that just shouldn't even begin, yet alone be read.
On a happy note, I'll be able to focus again on other things while I come up with inspiration to write something else.
For example, remedying the fact that I am eating myself out of winter as well as the zipper on my faux leather jacket - and redecorating A.'s and my modest little home with calming colors like mint green and white and light a few scented candles to make the air smell sweet.
I have to go to work now. And for those of you who are curious, I feel alot more braver about going to the shed! But because I'm weird - I'll sing Fruit Salad anyway! ;)
- Sarah xx
It is truly a gift to be able to write about things which can shift somebody's perspective, maybe one day save a life. Seeing something in your imagination and writing the story as it unfolds, what I love about being a writer is you know what happens before anyone else does.
Writers are not limited by reality, in our books we set the stage, the costumes and direct the characters from where we sit on the other side of the computer screen.
The only thing that writer's cannot do is stop. And if they do, it had better be urgent and with good reason. But sometimes it's hard to know who is in charge, the characters or the writer themselves.
Although I had set out to write a ghost story, I was thinking more along the lines of Meat Loaf and Marion Raven's 'All Coming Back To Me Now' video-clip. I went kinda Kripke and things went a little too dark.
For the past three weeks in the spare moments of my lunch-hour, I have been writing long-hand a novel about ghosts and physics. Supernatural Fiction. Darkly funny. Sexy.
The kind of book which would potentially put me on the best seller shelf and by extension, maybe land me a million and producers begging for the rights to the movie.
But on Friday I shredded those thirty pages with a sad sigh - because I will never know what happens to my characters.
Today in the lunch room my work mate asked me. "So Sarah. Why write about ghosts?"
"I didn't have any inspiration for anything else. I'm sick of my typical genre and wanted a new challenge."
"I wouldn't entertain anything like that, it's of the devil." Another work mate said gently and didn't say anything more about it
Before you horror fanatics go into a frenzy, let me just say: I agree with her.
I grew up in a house with restless spirit, saw something once in the garage which scared the heck out of me. I know firsthand that 'scary stuff' is very real.
So what was I doing writing about it in the first place?
If I was just a writer - it wouldn't matter. I'd just be doing a job.
But as a Christian - it's just a tad unsettling. And that is what my work mates were concerned about, that I was using my God-given gift for something unGod-like.
Being a writer gives you the power to sway readers, move them to the point of tears and bring happiness simply by turning a page. But as we know, there are some things which should not be written, let alone read - because the power works both ways - for good and evil, simply because this world has both.
The power of words has an incredible (and devastating effect) on people and as a Christian, I had to decide which effect I wanted my words to have on the people I would be writing them for and myself - because for the past two weeks when I crawl into bed I have fallen asleep with the blankets over my head. The other day when I was at work, I was putting away the equipment into the shed and suddenly, the wind howled and let's just say I got a bit jumpy and began singing 'Fruit Salad' by the Wiggles...because that would just terrify me if I was a ghost! (Haha..)
After speaking with my friends about it, I made the choice that as a Christian, I would write to glorify God with my gift and even though it was extremely difficult, did what needed to be done.
I tore the lined pages out of my purple note-book, clutched them to my chest and said to my friends. "When I come back I'm going to need a Kit-Kat and a hug!" before setting off determinedly to find the nearest shredder.
"Are you crazy?! Don't do this! You'll never find out what happens!" Sulked my inner-writer.
"Why not just keep writing it? Go on a little adventure. You don't have to publish it." Said a silky voice in my ear.
"If you do you'll never find out if Nathan and Daphne get together!" Whined my inner romantic.
"Claire, sit there until I shred every page." I instructed our receptionist.
Despite the conflicting voices in my head, I sat there and shredded each and every single page; saying a teary farewell to Nathan, the hot ghost hunter with his devil-may-care smirk, smoldering green eyes and low, husky voice. Afterward I felt a little strange, kind of like the feeling we have when we lose a friend. But then again, there are some friends we are better off without.
Maybe I'll resurrect Nathan in another novel. A novel which is about life, laughter with absolutely no trace of mind-altering paranormal matter which makes people nervous enough to break out into a song!
The moral of this story is there are stories that just shouldn't even begin, yet alone be read.
On a happy note, I'll be able to focus again on other things while I come up with inspiration to write something else.
For example, remedying the fact that I am eating myself out of winter as well as the zipper on my faux leather jacket - and redecorating A.'s and my modest little home with calming colors like mint green and white and light a few scented candles to make the air smell sweet.
I have to go to work now. And for those of you who are curious, I feel alot more braver about going to the shed! But because I'm weird - I'll sing Fruit Salad anyway! ;)
- Sarah xx
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