Wednesday’s Theme Music

The monthly black mood is coming on, one with a rich ore of self-pity. Trying to wrestle myself out of the mood this morning, I started telling myself what I really wanted. That transitioned to all I really want. Lyrics from the Alanis Morissette song, “All I Really Want” (1997) crashed the stream.

And all I really want is some peace man
A place to find a common ground
And all I really want is a wavelength, ah
And all I really want is some comfort
A way to get my hands untied
And all I really want is some justice, ah

h/t to Songmeanings.com

What I really want turns out to be a complicated network of hopes, dreams, desires, and longing. Some of it requires a time machine. I think more of it requires different DNA.

 

 

Rescue

If I rescue you, you’ll rescue me.

Our minds can understand it, but our eyes can’t seem to see.

We keep trying to save each other, but hate gets in our way.

One day, it’s love, the next day it’s hate, and we don’t know what to say.

I sometimes reach for you but you shake me off.

Sometimes you reach for me and I shake you off.

You hurt me and I hurt you back.

There’s so much we don’t understand, so much we lack.

Then you do something that reminds me of who you are.

And I think again, we’re on the right path, but the destination’s too far.

And I know I’m wrong because this isn’t right.

It’s not the destination, but the journey together, that I think about at night.

The Muses and Me

Some days, I require a word count because the muses are behaving like children. The words won’t come. A thousand pounds of pressure is required to press the computer keys. It is exhausting. Computer games call, sunshine beckons, books that I want to read whisper, “Come here,” and to-do lists acquire enormous importance. The word count is necessary to get some frigging work done. That’s in the writing process stage.

In the editing and revising stage, the muses are generally mute. Their work, they tell me, is done. Chapters are the masters. X number of chapters must be completed today. Sometimes the muses show up and start talking about another project. Other projects, with the glorious feeling of creation that they impart, are always seductive. I beat the muses back with sticks. “Not today, damn it. You know that I need to finish this first.” They don’t care. Muses are self-centered. They run with their own agendas.

There’s always a stick for the days when it’s needed. But some days, the muses are waiting, tapping their little feet or fingers, eager to begin. Just give them a sip of coffee, and off we go. I don’t always know if I’m going in the right direction and harbor this terrible fantasy that I’m a football player in a tight game, running with the ball toward the wrong goal.

A table full of muses are here today. Each is learning forward, ready to feed me their input. Got my coffee. Time to write like crazy, at least one more time.

Thursday’s Theme Music

I’ve been thinking about the Bruno Mars song, “Marry You” (2010).

It’s a bouncy song with a 1960s dance bop flavor to it that begins with a little setting.

It’s a beautiful night
We’re looking for something dumb to do
Hey baby
I think I wanna marry you

So, the essence I take is that they’re bored, so they’re getting married, not for love or romance, or so you’ll have someone with you to cope with disappointment and strive to get ahead, but because there’s nothing better to do. There is a touch of romance because he later confesses that maybe it’s the look in her eyes. But, it could also be the dancing juice. So…you know….

Later, he sings that if they break up, that’s okay.

If we wake up and you wanna break up that’s cool
No, I won’t blame you
It was fun, girl

h/t to AZLyrics.com

But, you know, why not, right? Just say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah. There are a lot of fun flash mobs out there around this song. Naturally, they involve someone asking someone else to marry them. I keep wondering if they plan to stay together, or was it just something fun to do?

Keep Paddling

Well, I’m up the creek. No, it’s not a creek, but a river as wide and powerful as the Amazon or Mississippi Rivers.

It’s all about writing, of course. I’ve used many metaphors to explore and explain my writing ventures, progress, and process. All of them, despite being disparate, are correct and accurate. My writing processes changes as I go through different phases of conception, imagining, creating, writing, editing, and introspection.

Paddling on a broad river seems the correct metaphor, simile, or analogy for now. I have a firm idea of where I’m going, yet currents attempt to pull me into different directions. Swirling eddies trap me with bursts of vacillation about which way to paddle. Right now, the river of words and ideas are bright and shiny. Sometimes, though, the sun goes down. Moonlight and starlight might help then, but sometimes, I’m alone out there, lost in darkness, on the river alone.

Muses often help me out, throwing lines, shouting directions and encouragement. So does the habit I have now of reading interviews with published authors in my quest for a quote. Many of those writers have tales of being out to sea, up in the air, trudging through a hot, dusty desert, or locked in solitary confinement. They write about writing for themselves for years, sometimes being published but with little to speak of in the ways of sales or recognition. They continued writing because they’d discovered the joy of writing for themselves.

Then, suddenly, bang, an agent signs them. A publisher publishers one of their novels. A rave review punches through the public’s consciousness. An actor, director, producer, studio head, whatever, reads their novel, buys the rights and makes it into a movie. Overnight, they’re a sensation after years of writing for themselves.

The joy of writing for myself can’t be overstated. I’m on a river now because while there’s sounds and sensations, I’m mostly in solitude, communicating with my muses about where I’m at, what I don’t like, and what I do enjoy. I’m going with a flow. Although it might not seem like it from everything else written above, it feels like a process flowing with quiet confidence and satisfaction.

Your results and processes are probably different, of course. Or perhaps they’re the same, or you see some nugget of yourself in the now of your existence, doing similar to what I’m doing. No matter how your process works or changes, I wish you well on it.

The coffee is gone. Time to pack up and head out for a sweaty walk in the hot sunshine. It’s been an excellent day of writing like crazy.

Cheers

Monday’s Theme Music

Let’s take a little Journey this Monday morning, looking back at 1985 via “Only the Young”.

In the shadows of a golden age
A generation waits for dawn
Brave carry on
Bold and the strong

Only the young can say
They’re free to fly away
Sharing the same desires
Burnin’ like wildfire

They’re seein’ through the promises
And all the lies they dare to tell
Is it heaven or hell?
They know very well

h/t to AZLyrics.com

Sparked by the line, “Only the young can say,” the song was streaming through me this morning. Being old – well, technically advanced middle-aged (AMA) has some advantages, but I think that being young can offer some, too. Like, it’s easier to start over and look forward.

But then again, we can channel Frank Sinatra in our streams and stay young at heart. That must count for something so I added it. Released in 1953, “Young at Heart” is three years older than me. LOL

Stay young.

 

 

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