There have been too many days when I didn’t know what to write about. I sat here waiting… waiting… waiting, but nothing came to me.
I used to think that some mornings I just wasn’t meant to write anything. Inspiration did not visit me, and instead I wasted hours drinking cold coffee while staring blankly at my computer screen.
Well, frankly, that sucked. So I started something new.
I attended my sister’s college graduation this weekend. Traveling back to my own alma mater, drinking in the springtime air and clusters of brightly blooming flowers, the buzz of excitement and energy, was good for the soul.
But it also made me think about those times in life—like graduation—that are simply bittersweet. The good comes with the not-so-good. Reaching a new point means letting go of what’s come before.
And it made me ponder why writing about bittersweet moments is so good, so deliciously satisfying.
A few years ago I taught at a high school with a strong Arts program. At the end of the school year, the fruits of students’ labour were put up for sale in a silent auction. I remember walking through the room, mouth agape and eyes bulging in awe of the talent I saw.
Later in the staff room a colleague and I, both of us English teachers, both aspiring authors, were fawning over the accomplishments of our students and I remember saying, “I wish I had talent like that.” My colleague assured me that I did. When I protested that I couldn’t even draw a wiggly line, she said to me, “You’re an artist; you paint word pictures.”
It was a moment of epiphany, one that’s stayed with me to this day.
The day Marston was born, we found out my wife’s grandmother had cancer. They said she had six months to a year to live. Three weeks later, she was in critical condition, and my wife was flying up to see her. It’s now four weeks after my son was born and I’m here in Pennsylvania, Amish country, for the funeral.
Never before have I seen life and death in such close proximity. Cormac McCarthy once said these are the only two subjects worth writing about, life and death. After experiencing it first hand this month, I get it.
Are you using photographs as a tool in your writing? No matter how good your imagination may be, looking at the setting, the character or the mood you’re describing can only enhance the task at hand. A nicely taken portrait can reveal much about the character – his/her vulnerabilities, moralities, moods and feelings, origins – and suggest a story behind it. By looking into the eyes of a photographed subject, you’re looking into this person’s soul. You, as a writer, are to catch this and put it into your art: words.
