Moving From Idea to Story

Themes and fragments and pulses of emotion have been running through me the past few days.

Trail Ridge Road, and hence the store where I work, has been closed due to ice and snow above 10,500 ft since Sunday night, giving me plenty of "free" time to work on things which matter to me.

At first this meant promoting my travel and landscape photography, which you can learn more about at Art on the Edge.

Then I fooled around watching old episodes of LOST on netflix, mainly getting a visual fix on my last great obsession, "Desmond" (Henry Ian Cusick).

I also made a few necklace designs for CrypticFragments etsy (where, by the way, a massive sale is in effect til October 11, 2009).

Finally, after reading bits and pieces in various books recently discovered at Estes Park library, being inspired by connections on twitter, and remembering that it's ok to not be perfect, I began jotting notes.

I felt something moving closer...a vague but persistent feeling.

A story is being born.

I now have my two main characters in the process of being fleshed-out, awaiting their naming.

I have a basic idea of what each of them wants.

A very basic idea of the setting...though not yet a geographical location.

I know quite a bit of the backstory, as it comes from another manuscript written in what feels like another lifetime.

And now, my friends, comes the true test...forming scenes, putting actual words on the page.

And the inevitable questions:

Do I write longhand, as I always used to, or try to work on the computer?

Should I write "off the top of my head" or wait til things are fully formed in my minds' eye?

Can I overcome my doubt and fear and 4 years of writers block?

Can I actually WRITE again instead of thinking about it and wishing for it?

How bad do I really want this?

Some Kind of BreakThrough

I woke at 5:20am today, anxious to see the weather, hoping for a snow closure of the mountain road to give me a day (or two) off work. I'm weary. It's the end of our season.

Blissfully, at the moment (6:17am) Trail Ridge Road remains closed due to snow conditions with an additional 6-10" forecast up top by Tuesday evening!

Assuming the store stays closed (can't see how they'll open road with THAT forecast), the rest of the crew (aged 21 and above) are planning a trip to a casino.

But not I!

I intend to stay home, watch the snow from a few miles away, and spend most of the day enjoying a newfound creative freedom.

My breakthrough this morning, while it may seem trivial to some, is both an enormous relief and a great hurdle overcome for me.

I have long been a victim of reality.

By this, I mean, that when writing about a place which actually exists, I have not been able to take any creative license with it. I've been chained to accuracy via maps, describing images of actual sights, and so forth in attempt to bring the setting to life.

However, this has hindered me in that, if I do not know loads of specific details about a place, I cannot write about it.

And if something does not actually exist in a place, I couldn't put it there in my fiction.

Until today!

Today, there will be houseboats in a place where none actually exist in the "real world". Either I will write a disclaimer saying I have taken liberties with the physical environment, or I will allow for the possibility that someone will say, "Hey, there are no houseboats in _______."

And that's ok with me.

Freedom!

New Goals

I want to try to start writing again...again. Life seems determined to keep me from this pursuit, but I am making a resolution to attempt one page, or at least 350 typed words, per day.

As of this entry I do not have any specific projects in mind.
Should I do fiction? Non-fiction? Travelogue of my upcoming India trip?
Does scrawling lines of ideas, possible sentences, character details, etc count towards a word or page goal?

As of right now, I really have no idea what I want to write about. My mind has not been clear and my emotions are a jumble, so I'm not going to be too hard on myself.

As long as I get a page of "something" done on a daily basis, at this stage I will consider that progress. I can get more serious after two weeks or so of that.
I'll "up the ante" after that time, so to speak.

Poetry Slam...

One of my co-workers recently suggested to a group of us at Xanterra RMNP that we hold a poetry slam on Tuesday night.
I have never read my poetry aloud...but this may be the perfect first time.
I think the impromptu plan is to have a bonfire and possibly some music (a lot of our co-workers are musicians), and some of us will read/recite.

I now have to select a few potential pieces to read! I am thinking of Natalie G., 1986, In Memoriam: Van Gogh and the like.

You can view these and other poems from the past two decades at CrypticFragments Poetry.

Long Awaited "Demi~Poems"

I have finally decided to go ahead and pot these on the blog with a copyright notice in plain view and so on and so forth, and hope that if the day ever comes when I am ready to begin submitting again in earnest, having appeared previously online will not entirely disqualify my work from being considered (I know Poetry magazine will not consider anything published online, for one).

Demi~poems are not meant to be complete, nor are all of them even in "poem" form. I say anything which has a sense of poetry or flow to it, which is emotionally evocative, etc, can be poetry. Demi~poems are poems of my life...poems which spring into being when one phrase flows into another.
Each line of a demi~poem (as I compose them) may begin with or contain the same word as a "flash point".

The following works are the creation of Tammy Winand and may not be copied, reprinted, redistributed or otherwise reused without her express written consent. You may contact her through this blog if you iwsh to quote or re-print any of her work.
Thank you for obeying the law!

Without further ado...Three Demi~Poems

(untitled demi~poem 1, April 2009)
"Fire gates
Golden Gates
Black Gates
Gates of Hell
Lost Gates
Arched Gates
The Pearly Gates"

("The Mysteries of Life" demi~poem 2, April 2009)
Myaterious countries
Mysterious cities
Mysterious castles
Mysterious cathedrals
Mysterious villages
Mysterious homes,
Mysterious neighbors,
Mysterious strangers
Mysterious lovers
Mysterious meals
Mysterious meanings
Mysterious wars
Mysterious Endings

("The Lure of Gold" demi~poem April 2009)
A golden dawn
Golden minarets
Golden spires
Golden towers
Golden sunsets
Golden dreams
Golden skin
Is Gold a Sin?"

Whether you enjoy them, or like the form (or not)...I hope they in some way moved you or made you think.

As always, your comments are welcome.

New poetry in other forms forth-coming...but please see Just Real Life regarding my new new relocation and lack of online time for the forseeable future!
Thank you

Sunday May 9, 2009...Checking In

I'm going to start by admitting I've been feeling lazy and sorry for myself.
Besides the Morning Pages (which get done roughly 3 times/week) and the idea/fragment notebook (which I think I mentioned in the previous entry), I have not been writing, nor have I felt like writing.
In fact, I have not felt very much like doing anything at all...except explore my new environment in Denver, CO (read about this at Just Real Life)

I am tired...not just in body but in soul. With the exception of the two days I spent at the fabulous "LoDo" Tattered Cover Bookstore and the 45 minutes I sat in the sun with my feet in the South Platte River, I have just felt...exhausted.
I have blamed it on allergies. I could also blame it on change of sleep cycle/duration, possible illness, depression or anxiety (despite the increased dosages of both my meds)...etc etc

Maybe the truth is I just do not want to have to do anything.
I am trying so hard to accept and be positive about the impending move to Estes and my job at RMNP. Trying to affirm and visualize...
Sometimes it works for a few hours. Sometimes I even have several upswing days where I feel full of energy and creativity.

But an online discussion w/ a fellow writer today made me realize...I really do NOT want to do the work of writing. In fact it makes me shudder and feel a bit sick. That makes me sad. But there is no fire, no desire.
At least, not on the surface, perhaps only in buried nearly extinguished embers.

I KNOW I can write. I KNOW I write well. I have so many ideas.
But I do not have the strength, focus, or emotional energy to DO the work right now.

I am still trying to heal on so many levels. Perhaps someday this will propel my writing. I want to share a few of what I call "demi~poems", poetic fragments, not intended to be "great" or even "good", certainly not intended for publication.
But maybe putting them out there and possibly receiving some feedback would be a positive experience.

(to be cont'd...)

WIPS

The writers idea notebook I started a few weeks ago has finally yielded the beginnings of 2 actual stories w/ plot sketches for a few others.

I am a whopping 6 paragraphs into the first draft of my latest effort...and anywhere btwn 1-3 paragraphs into a few others.
I have also been "playing" w/ some of my old characters, trying to see if they really want their stories to be told.
For those who don't follow me at twitter, the reason for this is because all of my manuscripts (from 1989 til 2004) were written long hand and are in storage in either PA or FL.
I am currently in AZ.
In 15 days I am moving to CO.
So, although I remember the plots of most of them fairly well, I do not remember exact phrases, and some of them were (if I have to say so myself) absolutely brilliant, and I do not want to lose them.
Perhaps I just don't trust myself yet to start from scratch. I have been silent so long...
Or maybe I have trouble believing the stories can be salvaged?

Whatever the case, at least I am finally working again after several years of silence.
And thank heavens I am building my support community, at least online, through the #writechat at twitter.

In case you do NOT yet follow me there, my direct link is CrypticFragment.