Random Writing

I spent about an hour yesterday (which turned out to be another long work day) writing on a story starter from a few months ago that I happened to open but had not really planned to do anything with. It was oddly satisfying. Oddly, I say, because it didn’t amount constitute progress on the story I’m “officially” working on, or any other project that I care much about for its own sake (though obviously since putting in that hour yesterday I’m now wondering if I can do something with it after all).

The main thing I take away from the experience, though, is a reminder that it’s the writing itself I find satisfying: putting words in mouths, virtual flesh on virtual bones, swirling an order of fictional events and chronologies out of primordial chaos. It’s not the pleasure of playing God, but rather the joy of creation: a rather more worthwhile thing, I can’t help but hope, even if the stuff of it is (as Shakespeare’s Puck put it) no more yielding but a dream. That, and a realization that story starters can indeed be useful when I want to do some writing but am feeling stuck.

P.S. I think I’ve already emailed everyone who follows this blog, but here’s a link to my son on his mission, singing a song of his own composition about Mormon doctrine. Fun stuff.

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