Thoughts for the Holiday Season

Musings from Emily... With a little help from my friend!

The Happy Ending: Love Conquers All or Thoughts for the Holiday Season

After discussing the matter of a holiday newsletter with Phoebe, (Shown in photo—she's the one with the beautiful face!) we agreed that the topic should be love. At first I suggested peace, but Phoebe quite rightly said that love was a precursor to true peace and, as she is an expert in both, I decided to go with her feelings.

"It can't be mushy love, all slurpy with wet noses and such," I reminded her. "Not that I don't love your slurpy, wet nosed kisses, but these are writers. Love, hate, war, peace, birth, death—the human drama—we can't be too obvious."

She turned away and began to slowly, lovingly lick her paw.

"Characters," I went on, scratching her behind her ear so as to get her attention. When I finished scratching, she glanced back at me with, well, the only word I can think of is love. I got all gushy and warm and silly and put my arms around her. We rubbed noses and I buried my face in her warm fur. She stretched out and I laid my head on her warm neck.

"Struggle," I went on. "Writers struggle a lot. It's not a dog's life, you know, being a writer. We write, we struggle, our passion ignites, unleashes the white heat that drives the pen without thought. But then, the door closes, we struggle again, scratch a bit, make tea, feel sorry for ourselves, maybe take our dog for a walk in hopes of inspiration returning."

WALK! She sat up, her tongue lolling with a the giddiest of grins. WALK! It was the rapid tail wagging that gave her away.

"Calm down, sweet girl," I told her. "I have to write this newsletter first. Then a walk."

The tail wagging wound slowy down. She collapsed on the floor with a groan and I lay my head on her neck again, stroking her soft, sweet tummy. It was then that true inspiration passed between us and I exclaimed, "That's it! The emotional rollercoaster ride of being a writer. The waxing and waning of inspiration!"

Phoebe yawned, as if I were waxing—a bit too poetic for her taste.

I explained, "The answer is both simple and complex, Phebes. Because, so long as we write and take risks with the writing, the journey never ends..."

She was beginning to snore. I knew I'd lost her. Kissing her softly, I returned to the computer and began to write:

For the writer, where life ends and fiction begins or where fiction ends and life begins is never quite clear. And that is, I find, one of the great joys of writing fiction. For the life inside me, the possibilities of experience, adventure and understanding that lie in the depths of my imagination, just waiting to step forth, are not only endless but endlessly exciting, mystifying and enriching.

• Who will be my next cast of characters?
  
• To what new landscape will they take me?
  
• Who will step forth as my darkside character this time?
  
• With whom shall I battle?
  
• Withwhom shall I fall in love?
  

Falling in love-it always comes back to that! (Phoebe is right, you see!) How we writers love our characters, the good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly! Love is the beginning and the end: love of the characters, love of the process, love of our self that comes when we journey inward to discover a person we never knew we were, whether it be a hero, voyager, dragon slayer, shaman, or storyteller.

"There is no reality except the one contained within us. That is why so many people live such an unreal life. They take the images outside of them for reality and never allow the world within to assert itself."
~Herman Hesse

WE'RE TALKING TRUE LOVE, NOT A ONE NIGHT STAND

Taking your time developing the romance between writer and characters,
writer and story, is pivotal. It takes a lot for this romance to flower.
Because we're not talking about a one night stand. Writing is not
about instant gratification. No writer I know escapes without struggling
with characters, story and most of all, self. But the payoff is better
than anything you might imagine. For writing is a life journey. Unlike
athletes, we never grow too old to excel in our chosen field. We never
grow too old to imagine.

Have a wildly imaginative and abundant holiday season! And may many soft,
wet noses and wise creatures great and small come your way.

Peace and love,

Emily and Phoebe