Saturday, May 30, 2020
I promised myself that before the end of this month I’d have written a short story. That creation couldn’t be about horses, dogs, birds, or living on a small acreage. The new effort would be outside my ordinary experiences, and be believable to average readers. I’m an almost-failure.
Recently, I’ve parked myself before a laptop to fiddle with ideas but not coming up with anything different and workable. While writing about something I’ve experienced or want to learn about, it seems easy to find words that explain and describe. Maybe drawing on creativity from more abstract sources might not be my bag. So, achieving fails.
Maybe not so fast, for humans have dreaming states and mine often seem productive. Several nights recently, I’ve awakened to find myself having deeply created a story. “I’ll write that,” I mumble and recreate the production in my sleepy brain. For a few seconds, all’s good, but soon, lines, logic, and theme begin disappearing, become irretrievable. Those are “almost fails”.
I believe that captured dream stories would provide a start, or idea, to help me tap into deeper creativity. Of course, a popular way to capture dreams is by keeping pad and pencil on a nightstand. My past experience teaches that by mornings my nighttime sleepy-scribbles offer little (if any) value.
Yesterday, I had hoped to formulate a creative story while riding on horseback in a beautiful area. As usual, realities kept interfering. My saddle was cinched too loosely and trying to slip. My ponied horse kept dipping her head to graze, forcing me to keep pulling on her rope. We were a couple miles from the trailhead and seemingly in the middle of nowhere, when it became impossible to avoid dismounting to straighten my saddle, while somehow, continuing to hang onto that ponying-rope.
Dear Friends: I will keep hoping to find and write from an alternate universe. Diana