Thursday, June 21: Femme Fatale
WRITER’S MAGIC
By Deborah Elliott-Upton
There’s something magical about water, whether it be a lake, ocean or even a bathtub. Today it’s the swimming pool. We christened it for the season after what seemed like endless days of waiting for the pool cleaner to come and the chemicals to subside, all the while the temperatures soared to new heights. Anticipation isn’t always fun, but often it is rewarding. The water lapped against my skin like a thirsty dog.
While floating across the pool, I stared at the clouds and thought of absolutely nothing. I didn’t worry about not having a column ready for our illustrious leader, James Lincoln Warren, or finishing the short story for the by-invitation-only anthology I’ve been asked to contribute. My mystery novel needs to be proofed one last time before sending it off to the really nice editor who’d shown interest.
But, I simply floated.
And marvelous ideas cropped into my head without my even threatening the Muse. Not truly full-blown ideas, but germs of ideas — the sort that breed like rats when left alone, so by all means, I leave them alone.
This is a good thing. Usually. But not when you’re enjoying floating in the pool and the last thing you want to do is get out, dry off and spend serious time in front of the computer. Summer is not meant for such things.
Perhaps this is why laptops were really invented. I can imagine some guy at a desk in Silicon Valley thinking : If only I could knock off some work in between laps in the pool.
My laptop sits on the picnic table today next to an icy pitcher of raspberry tea I knew I’d want later. Work’s not quite as inviting as floating, but after a few minutes, those ideas will start separating like cells in a Petrie dish. The strong ones will float to the top of my consciousness and somehow propel me from the water where I am comfortably doing nothing to sitting in front of the computer, my fingers flying across the keyboard.
Actually, that may be the best part of being a writer, those times when your mind is racing with inspiration and the story always wins, breaking across the finish line just before the writer gives in and allows it to take over.
From a tiny idea, great stories spring forth like a stream winding a path downstream to end in a giant waterfall. Beautiful and majestic, it is indeed magical.
We all are blessed with gifts of the magic of inspiration, but unless you share the story, it withers and dies.
Deborah, it’s no accident that in many mystical traditions, the element of water is associated with the well of the subconscious.
Reading your column recalled for me those several water scenes (swimming, scuba diving, and watching the fish tank) in “The Graduate.” Not that it has anything to do with the writer’s muse.
If I come over for a dip, can you promise I’ll be inspired?
Ah, Steve. There is never a doubt. I imagine you are always inspired…and inspiring.
It’s refreshing to know that I am not the only writer who’s laptop isn’t always in use. I read once that Agatha Christie found inspiration in the bath tub while eating an apple. Now to find out that your inspiration comes from floating in a pool, I’m inspired to jump into the ocean.
I don’t know about streams or giant waterfalls, but when I am really stuck I sometimes jump in the shower and turn the water on as hot as I can stand it. This seems to open my mind and often times I have to cut the shower short so I can get back to the computer. But unlike some people we know, I always stop to at least put on boxers first.
Debbie,
The comment: but unless you share the story, it withers and dies.
This is so true! Think for a moment how many wonderful thoughts are just lost in the clouds, because no one wrote them down. Can you imagine never reading Stephen King, Joyce Meyer or Zig Ziglar? The definition of a writer should be; … (Debbie) someone that is able to put her thoughts into words, brilliantly , on a consistant basis that lures the reader to pour over their words and read for hours.
Thank you again for an enlightening story. I myself, cannot not imagine never reading the writings of Deborah Elliott-Upton.
There is definitely something magical about water – a pool, the shower, whatever – it always brings ideas for new stories into my head. Maybe because it’s so hard to get to writing material then… :]]