Writing Beyond the Boxes
Okay, Timmy, this is the final round of our discussion about boxes, at least in this particular context. I know I sound obsessed with it, but this concept has infiltrated everything. I can hardly read something written in recent years without envisioning the author meticulously checking off each little box as they go along. It’s my problem, and I’m making it yours too, Timmy.
Why am I so fixated on this? Why is it a singular focus for me? Why can’t I stop noticing it? Perhaps it’s because I’ve come to understand that the process of writing, the craft, is anarchic in a way. I’ve mentioned many times before how stories tell themselves, shaping as they unfold. In my own writing experience, it’s the story that tells me when it’s done, when something is missing, and when something is wrong. No, it doesn’t speak to me, Timmy, don’t worry; I’m mentally sound. But it’s a gut feeling, something I can’t quite describe.
Yes, I had an outline when I sat down to write. I had plans and was organized, but it went out the window a grand total of five times in my current novel. Five times I had to reevaluate my approach, five times I found myself in a block not really understanding why I was blocked. But I try not to despair, and I ended up being able to just continue my journey.
And I believe that is the sticking point here, Timmy. We are so quick to dread our own feelings that we seek any crutch to keep them at bay. Any crutch, and if that crutch turns our works into the same beige repetition as the last, then so be it.
No, Timmy, that is a disservice to oneself and a betrayal of the craft. The human experience should not be beigefied, nor can its uniqueness be artificially implemented. If not, then all corporate endeavors would flourish and bloom into greatness instead of being the same gray goop flowing everywhere. Successful only through the brute force of the corporate machine. Just remember, Timmy, the god of the Corpos cannot create and it cannot destroy; it can only use until that which it holds in its hand has been consumed, no matter the person or the product.
So when you sit down to write, don’t just build a flow chart and stick to it. Don’t just accept methods and formulas made by others, not even me, Timmy, especially not me. Why? Because the one railing against something might be the one most in danger of falling into it. For as you stare into the Abyss, the Abyss stares back at you. It is only a matter of who flinches first, and it is usually the human. So be wary even of what I say, Timmy, lest I am blinded to my foibles as a human being.
But I am at least aware of this. Many just sell the box of success, trying to use it to achieve success themselves. This is hardly bad; it is just a matter of people being aware that it won’t solve all the problems they have, especially in writing.
With this, I am closing the issue of Boxes for now, though I am certain that it is going to rear its head soon enough.
Until next time.
