Friday, November 16, 2007
I sure am tired of blogging daily. It's seriously looking like I'm not going to make it 'til the end.
I'm not just tired of blogging. I'm tired. Period. I finished a massive rewrite (again) of The Exorsistah, and turned it in yesterday. That was the same day I was supposed to turn in my final corrections for Zora and Nicky. Final after it's been copy edited more than a few times. It's beginning to seem like the only novels I'm getting to read are anymore are my own! And whatever I read for research. These books are being fired back at me so fast I can hardly keep up with any of it.
So, I finished reading through Zora and Nicky again today. With a migraine I've had for two days, might I add. And the got right back to writing Wounded. And it's hard. Somehow I thought writing would get easier, but it actually seems to get harder as I go!
I read a lot for research, and I'm reading Nikos Kazantzakis's St. Francis. You may know Kazantzakis because he wrote The Last Temptation of Christ. One thing I can say about him, he sure knows how to take a saintly person, and show their real, human struggle.
I came across this passage about writing in St. Francis, and it got a hearty amen from me. I even shared it with Chip's class at Taylor University when I lectured (lectured? Nah. We just kicked it.) on Tuesday:
"I had taken up my quill to begin writing many times before now, but I always abandoned it quickly: each time I was overcome with fear. Yes, may God forgive me, but the letters of the alphabet frighten me terribly. They are sly, shameless demons--and dangerous! You open the inkwell, release them; and they run off--and how will you ever gain control of the again! They come to life, join, separate, ignore your commands, arrange themselves as they like on the paper--black with tails and horns. You scream at them and implore them in vain; they do as they please. Prancing, pairing up shamelessly before you, they deceitfully expose what you did not wish to reveal and they refuse to give voice to what is struggling, deep within your bowels, to come forth and speak to mankind."
Um. Yeah, Nik. I can't even lie, it's JUST LIKE THAT.
Will you lovies pray for me? I'm feeling really impoverished, and not in a good way. I don't feel like I have any more words left, and yet, I've got a whole lot more I'm supposed to be writing. I feel like I'm making all the gestures of one speaking, but my voice is completely gone. Or like I'm talking, but I ran out of things to say a long time ago.
peace to all of you, in the midst of all our storms, I pray, even if our storm is only a flurry of words we can't make sense of tonight.