I'm Kind Of Floored
It's two for one day.
A few posts back, I mentioned some projects I had "in the works." Stuff I was considering working on. As creative processes often go, they all got shelved in lieu of something more immediate I wanted to work on.
About a month back, my roommate calls me out to our porch, hands me a pair of binoculars, and tells me to look at the moon. She wants me to confirm whether or not I'm seeing what she's seeing, which is what appears to be a string hanging down from the top of the moon and across its surface. I look, squint, adjust, squint some more, and fuzzily maybe see what she's talking about.
More importantly than my seeing it is that she keeps mentioning it over the next week or so. She's the type that likes to look things up, so I have no doubt she spent some time on the internet trying to find out about it. I'm guessing she never found a satisfactory answer since she kept bringing it up.
Well, an answer of sorts was brewing in my head. A short story in the form of a fictional fairy tale sort of answer. For anyone that does anything creative, you're probably well aware that inspiration can come from anywhere. A song idea can spring from a news story; a story idea can spring from a song title; a short film can be inspired by a Yanni song; a picture can be inspired by the quality of sunlight on a certain day. Well, her infatuation with the moon's string inspired almost an entirely full-blown story into my head. This is somewhat rare. Usually when I get a story idea, I get a hook first and then have to develop the story around it. This story idea came mostly full formed. I say "mostly" because in the process of writing a story, it invariably changes; it never ends up quite the way you intended when you started it, nor should it. You can guide a story in a direction, but a well-written one should dictate to you where it needs to go---it should have somewhat of a life of its own.
Anyway, the high-level concept of this story was, as mentioned above, a fairy tale style story about a girl who sees a string falling from the moon to the earth, and she goes on a journey to discover why. Along the way, she meets some people and creatures that have their own thoughts on the matter, and acquires some gifts that help her along the way.
Inspiration for a story is usually enough to get me to try and write it, especially when it was this strong. However, even when I do write, I tend to do it at a lackadaisical pace. The discipline of writing is what I typically lack. However, I also managed to provide myself with some motivation. Because it was getting close to Christmas, I decided that if I could finish a story I was reasonably happy with, it would make for a unique Christmas gift for my roommate. Based on that though, I did manage to work my way through a few drafts, and get the story to a point where I thought it was probably good enough to give as a present.
I won't lie, however, I was nervous about doing it. I don't really write short stories all that much anymore---the inspiration/motivation hasn't really been there for a while---so I was concerned that the story basically sucked and would make for a shitty gift. But I decided to suck it up and just do it. The final step was, in a way, the biggest pain in the ass, more so than writing the story itself. Originally I figured I'd just print it out and give it to her, however my roommate is very artistically inclined, so I decided instead to go the extra mile. About a week before Christmas I was in a stationary store, and saw a journal that looked like it would make a good book. So I bought that and hand wrote out the story into it, just to give it a little more of that personal touch. Note: personal touches can apparently lead to hand cramps. Eight typed pages doesn't seem like that much, but try handwriting it out. Especially when it's last minute. Between tightening up the drafts and generally being busy with whatever other day-to-day stuff, I was up until about 8pm on Christmas Eve actually finishing out that last copy. Luckily, my roommate was out until after midnight, so I had plenty of time. In fact, I was asleep when she got home, and I was leaving for NC the next day, so I wrapped it up and just left it on her desk.
I'm not being falsely modest here when I say I was unsure of whether or not it was actually good enough to give as a gift. Because I don't write all that much, I'm far more critical of what I do than I would be with something like, say, music. I play music a lot more, so I'm a lot more confident in my creative muscles in that direction. However, I've been getting nothing but great reviews from my roommate about the story. She apparently liked the story, which I'm glad about. But even more so, she's been reading it to other people, and apparently they're liking it as well. And that's where I'm kind of floored. I was hoping that one person would like it, but to find out that others do as well was both surprising, because I hadn't expected her to like it enough to read it to anybody else, and very gratifying. And, in its way, inspiring. Maybe I can use this as some momentum to try to get back more into this kind of writing again.