Minding the Gap

There is this gap between our expectations and reality. Sometimes it is just a crack in the sidewalk, other times, the grand canyon. I know that I need to mourn the gap. Mourn the difference between how I want things (in writing) to be, and how they are.

There is a Quote by Neil Gaiman. 

If you have had a Serious Writing Conversation with me, I have probably attempted to tell you about it. Neil says: 

Well, you never achieve everything you wanted to. It's the simple act of writing. You begin with a platonic ideal that is a shivering tower carved out of pure diamond, that is this pure thing that stands there unfouled by gravity and the weather. And then, the thing that you build is this thing that you have to build out of whatever is at hand and you use empty sushi boxes and chairs and get friends to hold it up and try to make it look like it's standing. And at the end of it, people look at it and they say, "It's amazing." And you say, "Yes, but if only I could have done the thing that is in my head."

I am acutely aware of how awesome my writing and ideas are--in my head. The fact that there is a huge discrepancy between how they are inside, rolling about my head, and how they are outside, in black and white, causes me some angst. 

Some very intelligent writers recently have been telling me that it is okay to feel this way. 

But this gap is painful.

And sometimes it is hard to get over.

Sometimes the gap is wide because our skill hasn't caught up with our potential.

Sometimes the gap is wide because we imagine the universe.

Sometimes the gap is wide because we want to hurry up and be done.

No matter why the gap is there, we must mind it. 

And that is hard.

The Simple Act of Writing

Well, you never achieve everything you wanted to. It's the simple act of writing. You begin with a platonic ideal that is a shimmering tower carved out of pure diamond, that is this perfect thing that stands there unfouled by gravity and the weather. And, then, the thing that you build is this thing that you have to build out of whatever is at hand and you use empty sushi boxes and chairs and get friends to hold it up and try to make it look like it's standing. And at the end of it, people look at it and they say, "It's amazing." And you say, "Yes, but if only I could have done the thing that is in my head."

--Neil Gaiman, Hanging Out with the Dream King, Conversations with Neil Gaiman and His Collaborators.

This quote was Neil's answer to whether he had achieved everything he wanted to with The Sandman. And I love what he says for so many reasons.

I recently went to a local NaNo Write In, and one of the women talked about how she's scared try to write because she's scared her writing won't be perfect. That drive towards perfection is something that immobilizes a lot of people I know. It's why NaNo can be good--it unfreezes writers because first drafts aren't perfect. Can't be perfect. It's the simple act of writing.

I love how Neil attributes his friends as the ones who holds up his works. You just can't do it without friends. It's the simple act of writing.

And I absolutely love his description of an idea--"...a shimmering tower carved out of pure diamond...this perfect thing that stands there, unfouled by gravity." I love the implication that once an idea is introduced to the real world--taken out of the mind--then it is marred by gravity. By the weather. That we lack raw idea material--pure diamond. That we have to use what is at hand to mold our idea. The simple act of writing.

I've never felt as though writing was simple. But if I sit down at my computer or with pen and paper with an idea in my head, then I write. And maybe it is. The simple act of writing.

Obsession

When I'm writing I almost always "discover" a song that I already know. I hear it in a new light, and it makes me think. I become obsessed.

My current obsession song? Bouncing off Clouds. I'm sure it surprises nobody that it happens to be a Tori song. I look to Tori Amos for inspiration as I look to Madeleine L'Engle. And I'm never left wanting. Here are some of the lyrics that I'm obsessing over:

Make it easy
Make this easy
We could make this easy...
It's not as heavy as it seems

I like the simple idea that sometimes we make things harder than they need to be. That we can make things easier. That bouncing on clouds is a choice we can make.

You say you're waiting on fate
But I think fate is now
I think fate is now
Waiting on us

Fate isn't set, and it is in fact waiting. For us. How interesting an idea is that?

To deepen and widen the obsession with Tori--here is an interview with her describing her dive into sorrow to come out with her song, Tear in Your Hand. Years ago, this song introduced me to Neil (Gaiman) with the lyrics:

"If you need me, Me and Neil'll be hangin' out with the dream king. Neil says hi, by the way."

At the time, I started reading Neil Gaiman, and loved his stuff. And I discovered Tori as a tree in Neil's book Stardust. (Here's Neil reading the first chapter.) I spent a few happy years looking for references for Neil in Tori's songs and Tori in Neil's works.

Further fodder for the obsession: Here's an interview with Tori explaining her process writing the song, Happy Phantom.

What do you obsess over, if anything, while writing? Do you find that the process of others--writers, artists--makes you expand your own process?