There is a joy in accomplishing something transcendent in a craft. We've all been in a museum and have noticed the bits of furniture which are in every way transcendent pieces.
Sure, not every sideboard is a stunning piece; but, we've seen the ones that are.
The donuts here are transcendent. If you're an eight-year-old grandcub, they're pretty much heaven. They're pretty close to that if you're a somewhat older bear, too.
Writing is a craft. It can rise to the level of art on those occasions when we perform some transcendent act allowing the reader to internalize precisely those emotions we desire to portray through our characters.
Now, you know the difference between the craft of writing and the art of writing. You have to decide what emotions you will portray which you can portray and which can be internalized by the reader.
Here's a hint: all of them.
You want to sell. You want recognition. You want accomplishment. You want to rid your soul of that burning need to tell the tale - your tale - that no one has seen before. You then know you want to write transcendent emotion on the page.
Think of this: if it isn't evoking the emotional transference you intend, why is it on the page? Sure, sometimes emotions need set-up. They need guides. They need signposts so we can find our way. Ever scene cannot be composed of extended dynamic range.
They can however convey something in the language of emotion.
Try it. Write something. Write something which invokes emotion. Use that as the map and see: do you like that writing better than your otherwise best-boy craft?
Write something. I'm away from electronic fire for a bit this weekend. I'm writing. See you next week.
No comments:
Post a Comment