Hi everyone. I hope you are all staying warm and well so far this winter.
As a lot of you know, I have done a lot of writing since I lost my vision eighteen months ago. I have written about a lot of different things. I have written a lot of different ways. I have written about a lot of different emotions, some of which I have no idea what they really mean.
I have written short stories, kids stories, blog entries, mobility lesson overviews, personal stuff, non personal stuff, and other things that I am not certain what to call. I have written a bunch of poems, and almost half of them circle around my vision loss, and how it has affected me. Some of the poems are rather dark and bleak, and I really had no intentions of starting, or finishing pieces that wrapped around this subject. They just seem to appear on the screen after I just start typing. I can’t explain why, or how, all I can do is just read them afterwards. Most of the time I read these after I have written them, I really can’t remember much of the actual writing process. It is like I am experiencing the written piece for the first time.It is pretty weird, and pretty unexplainable, but it is what it is.
I started writing a sstory one week for an exercise in one of my writers groups. It was supposed to be a Halloween piece. I really tried to write something, a short story that would only take up six or seven pages. As I got a few pages into the piece, I knew that this short story was going to develop into something a heck of a lot longer than six or seven pages. I ended the first chapter, with the end nowhere in sight. This morning, I submitted chapters fourteen and fifteen to the group, with the end nowhere in sight. I have not a clue what I am doing, but the journey that has taken shape is well worth the ride.
The same sort of writing experience takes hold of me when I am writing these chapters. I sit in front of the pc screen with my fingers on the keys, and I usually have no clue where my fingers will take my mind, or is it the other way around? As I start typing, a movie plays in my mind. In all it’s cinematic magic, the characters appear, the actions take shape, and the story moves on, and once again, as I read the chapter back, it is like I am reading someone else’s work.
I think I am possessed. PC gremlins or something.
I try to lay out these chapters in my mind before I start writing them, but nothing ever takes shape. Nothing ever finalizes.
Nothing ever is until it becomes.
I have told this to the writers group, and some of them say it is a gift to be able to write like this. Most of these people, with years of writing experience, tell me they need to do a story line, and lay out all the details of characters, events, places, everything before they start the project.
I am sure that by me not doing these things, I will eventually run into problems. I will get stuck. I will hit dead ends, or blank pages, or uncertainty. With all this in mind, I keep pounding the keys, and hope for the best. I don’t really hope actually, I just type.
I am so fortunate and grateful that I was able to learn how to touch type. It has opened up so much of my mind. It has given me new avenues to explore, and believe me when I tell you, when I leave my mind alone, it does explore.
I have always tended to flow from one thing, quickly into another, when it comes to this rusty, gear driven machine between my ears. I don’t argue with it any more. I just let it go where it wants to.
One thing is for certain, without the advice of drugs and alcohol, and no nicotine, it tends to have a larger capacity fuel tank, so I don’t have to find a gas station as often as I used to. It just goes, and goes, and goes. That energizer bunny dude ain’t got nuthin on me.
I have always been able to play things out rather vividly in my mind. I have always had a great imagination, and it has taken me to many places in my life. With my typing always improving, I am able to put my imaginations, my vivid possibilities, all of the wondrous imagery of my mind, all of it is able to be put onto the pc screen. I can’t see the screen, but I can feel the stories, my imagination if you will, scrolling up the monitor.
I do love to write. I always have. I always will. Hi Coco. Good girl. Cold nose. Sorry, got distracted. Smile.
Where was I?
I love to write. I will keep on writing. I have been told that some of the stuff I write is actually pretty good. I am glad that other people like some of the things I write. When I read back the things I have written, and I smile, or frown, or cry, I know that I like it too, because it makes me feel. That’s really all that counts to me. If I enjoy what I write, then I will always keep on.
I don’t know what I will ever do with all this stuff. I don’t know where I am going to put it all. It’s kinda like all this snow Matt! Smile. Really, one of the best things my screen reader says to me is, “Save as”. All of these things, all of these feelings, all of these instant mind folding tangents, all of them categorized, backed up, saved as, it all represents who I am, what I think, where I have been and what directions I choose to go. In the end, that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?
Now, let’s see, control s, save as. Perfect..