Sometimes it just happens (like a sudden realization), and a story turns in an unexpected vein or a character changes. The questions of what do I do with this one or what happens to her, is she necessary? dissolved with two sentences and a two-page scribbling from who knows how long ago — which I read yesterday afternoon and fed my subconscious. The piece is not dated, but I gather it is over ten years old but less than thirteen. I have time markers in life. You know: before that, after this, in between that and the other … jobs, relationships, homes, stages in life. I have a string, without disrespect, of the equivalent of BCs and ADs.
Most change happens like a tide softly lifting a sunken ship — CSL wrote something to that effect.
I went to get the book, read it recently and knew it was close at hand, but somehow did not go on a monkey ride (internet | black hole searches and getting lost online). It’s in The Weight of Glory: as gradually as the tide lifts a grounded ship.
ME — CS LEWIS
Anywho — back to Natalie, who originally was the impetus for the writing of this body of work but had fallen off the radar as I immersed myself in writing about six others (three couples). It is easy to do because they are becoming a commune, a microcosm, in a way, and are, therefore, relational, which is verdant soil for writing.
So Natalie is back in the fold, in some fold anyway, and it makes me glad. I like her, although she scares me a little because she’s 1) a nurse and 2) a violin player, which means I must buckle up and put in the work to make her real. Perhaps why I avoided her? It doesn’t matter whether she’s central or not, she’s in for the long haul. Initially, she was going to be the closure of the novel, but since I have drastically changed her path (at this point) with two sentences, that ending, as it stands, is unusable. Perhaps. We’ll see. (This seems to be one of my mottoes, along with Will see.)
As I typed the scribblings onto a brand new blank page, I was astounded at the story (it makes what I have already written, which has nothing to do with the newly found slips of paper) and the background. I had forgotten it all. The more organized I am, the better, most effective, and quicker I write. So why do I sabotage the process by being all over the place? On the other hand, I have waited so long to do what I want until I get organized … that I just DO. That tug-of-war. So I write and organize almost every day. At some point, I pray, the organizing should be 0. Right?
After choosing the image for this post, I realized something about Natalie, so I added a note to her file, a new blossom.
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