Thank the guardian angel of creativity for lunch hours and internet connections.
I’m not trying to duck Lisas’ tag but I’m running into some roadblocks in on the road to cyber space. I have my ideas but the entry appears to have its own take on nature of the beast. Since I started this journal I’m discovering more and more that the words have lives of their own and they can be very stubborn about how and where they “live.”
This has happened before with term or research papers. I would have my vision of how the work should go. The paper itself would simply refuse to go where I wanted it to go. Once I realized what was happening I would give in and just let the words flow. Truthfully, I usually got better results that way. Maybe it was my subconscious and I gave the paper a personality. I have never written a last draft of a paper and then copied it. The version I ended up turning in was just the last draft I had time to write before the deadline.
The new entry (entries) and I are negotiating. As usually happens, the entry will probably win. Something along the way these entries are heading has been knocking around in my mental pending file for a while. The last month or so have been really hairy at work so the idea just kept rattling. I’d hear the cage doors clink every now and then and tell it to be patient. Actually, I’d give it a few thoughts for breakfast and tell it shut the heck up, darn it.
What may happen is a series of entries on an author or authors. A special book, perhaps. You know the kind I’m talking about. The book that owns you as much or more than you own it. The ones you’ll part with only after they fall to pieces or if you can find another copy. (Alibris, you are a Godsend.)
Lisa, you were on target about college lit classes. I wasn’t a lit major so my exposure was limited to the Intro to whatever lit classes and Shakespeare. Intro classes in large universities are divided into lectures and discussion sessions. The discussions are led by grad students who are just full to the brim with similes and metaphors and kind of impatient when you don’t see the same picture they do. I loved Shakespeare. The only book I remember from the lit classes is Lady Chatterley’s lover and I’m still trying to figure out what all the fuss was about. I was bored stiff.
They didn’t cure me of my love of reading, but I didn’t always want to read what they wanted me to read. Three cheers for Cliff Notes. So, please be patient with me, I’m a work in progress. Also, I’m trying to figure out who to “tag” myself. Hmmmmmmm.