PLAY!

"That's the truest test of insanity: insane people are always sure they're just fine. It's only the sane people who are willing to admit they're crazy." Nora Ephron

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Sometimes when I'm writing, I try to truly step outside myself, just letting the words and thoughts flow...omitting the usual (nigh-omnipresent) "editorial function," you know, that self-critical feedback that has likely stymied more good ideas than bad ones it has corrected! That's right...as Nora says it so aptly above...just go a little crazy, admit it, and run with it--laissez les bon temps rouler!

Sometimes writing is truly play--using a strong character, I can ask, "What might this gal do?" and just let her have at it...and have her wisecrack her way out of a pinch. At other times, writing is work--the dialog doesn't crackle, the descriptions seem tedious, the plot is as linear and interesting as a six-inch ruler...ugh. Worse, still, when I'm reading something that actually got published despite those same problems! That said, I think I learn more about writing from a shoddy work--"Gee, this is boring and the dialog is stiff and having to re-read the same ppgh three times...I'll just do the opposite. Oh, and, I promise to never use a five-dollar word when a five cent one would be crystalline! Unless I forget and am carried away on the wings of my flowing prose--which is where that edit-function becomes necess!

Sometimes, writing is such fun, I sit here and belly-laugh.
"What's so funny?" drifts from my wife's lips, from down the hall.
"Me!"

Here's a quick ppgh taken from "Christmouse Time," when the brave little mouse meets the Magi:

Leuko walked right into the middle of the street, slowly approaching the strangers.

The nearest camel startled and abruptly started to back up, causing the other camels to bray and spit. The men did not turn to calm their camels, leaving that task to their underlings, as their hands dropped to the hilts of their swords and their eyes scanned the area, looking for the threat that had startled their beasts. Spotting Leuko, they chuckled, but the largest man, he of the deepest voice, dropped to one knee and asked, “Ah, brave little one, do you come with a message?”

Thinking fast, Leuko replied, holding up one forepaw, "Fear not. I come in peace."

Surprise?

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A NICE BLEND OF PREDICTION AND SURPRISE SEEMS TO BE AT THE HEART OF THE BEST ART.
--Wendy Carlos, composer.
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  Sometimes it's just the very idea that is the surprise--what on earth made Andy Warhol come up with the idea of a painting of a Campbell's soup can?
   Sometimes the surprise is held close to the chest till the bitter end: witness Dame Agatha's mysteries (if you've never read Agatha Christie, pick one up, and travel back into a slower, quieter, antiquated time...a time when murder was sneaky and the unveiling was slow.)
   Sometimes a surprise pops up early, or in the middle of things: Haydn's SURPRISE SYMPHONY! (a quiet recording, so turn the volume up...the one and only surprise is at about 32 seconds. Papa Haydn's sense of humor was simple but irrepressible!)
   A good story is filled with little surprises, balanced by little predictabilities: don't you love it when a character is highly idiosyncratic--okay, when they're just plain odd, with several verbal or behavioral tics? Trumpkin, the dwarf doesn't ever offer the same exclamation twice, but he is always alliterative, e.g., "Tubs and tortoise-shells!", "Beards and bedsteads!", and the like. Predictable, yet fresh each time...I love him!
   How true of life, with its predictable routines, but routines that are only a breath away from disruption. One phone call, one misplaced sock, a missed call, and the day is irretrievably altered.
   Been surprised lately? C. S. Lewis was "Surprised by Joy." The other day, I was surprised by a prematurely dying battery in my scooter...except, that still, small voice had whispered, just as I was zipping out the garage, "Hey, Davio, why dontcha bring along your battery charger/cable, just in case." One mile later, I was asking a new friend if I could plug in and recharge. Thanks, Still, Small, Voice...I'll try to listen to you with keen attention, altho I sure can be a doofus when it comes to listening!

Writing fantasies.

“You have to write the book that wants to be written. And if the book will be too difficult for grown-ups, then you write it for children.”
― Madeleine L'Engle


Writing for kids has been simple, thus far: I'm targeting my own grandkids. So, I cannot say that I'm intentionally taking something complex and reducing it to its least common denominators, yet, I must admit that Madeleine L'Engle makes a profound point: there are often profundities that lurk just under the surface of "kiddie lit." If you question L'Engle's point, then I do wonder if you've not read her books or the Narnia Chronicles lately?

My intent is not to imitate L'Engle, MacDonald, Lewis, or Tolkien (as if???), but to take away from them their delightful sense of wonder and playfulness. I particularly enjoy the avuncular asides that Lewis drops in, such as, "...for everyone knows it is very foolish to shut oneself inside a wardrobe."

My hope and prayer is that my stories for children might have something in them for readers of all ages. Here's a portion of one of my Nativity series:

The Dogs of Christmas
   Arf and Yarf had wandered their way across the country. They didn't exactly know where they'd started from, because, of course, they didn't have a map and there were no street signs. But, they did know where they were now—they could read, which is, of course, a well-kept secret among dogs (see, they kept it secret from you, too!) The sign read, The Bethlehem Inn and Stables.
   “Fancy name,” Arf growled.
   “For a not very fancy place,” Yarf added, pawing at the dirt on the front doorstep.

   The dogs were slender—they had been surviving for weeks now on what they could hunt up, or the occasional handouts from shepherds whom they'd met along their wandering ways. Of course, the shepherds hardly had any more wealth than the dogs! Some shepherds were kindhearted, and would scratch and pat the dogs, and share morsels of bread and cheese. Other shepherds started hurling insults and sticks and rocks as soon as the dogs came into sight.
   “Good to be back in a town again, Yarf.”
   “True. Townies are usually kinder than shepherds,” Yarf added.
   “And they're usually no good with a sling—my tail is still sore from—“
   At that moment, the innkeeper appeared from around the corner, where he'd been checking up on the animals in the stable. Seeing, him, the dogs wagged their tails and put on friendly faces. The innkeeper waved his arms and yelled at the dogs, who tucked their tails and ran.
   “So much for the 'friendly townie' theory, Arf.”
   Arf looked over his shoulder with a grin. “Still, he's not slinging rocks!”
   The dogs darted around the next building, slowing immediately. In their experience, only man-cubs would keep up a chase. They sat and panted for just a moment, more for relaxation than because they were really out of breath—sometimes it just feels good to simply pant.
   “Let's check the back of a few houses before we check out behind the inn.”
   “Fine, Yarf, but, you know that the inn is usually the only place in town with a decent slop-pile.”
   “Right-o, lad, but we don't need him seeing us lurking,” Yarf concluded.
   The town was small; they checked behind every house and shop. They raided a few moldy bread crusts and found a good puddle in the otherwise dry wash on the north side of town.

   About an hour later, they noticed some distant sounds.
   “Music?” Arf yelped. “Let's check it out.”
   They raced over the fields in time have a distant view of...
   “What are those, Yarf?”
   “Dunno, Arf, never seen anything like it. Let alone, heard anything like it!
   Arf nodded in agreement as they trotted closer.
   Yarf put back his head and howled, and Arf joined him in a nice harmony. They howled and yowled and had a great time singing along with the angels....

Complete story here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1negtwdDvhM80jtWJi4Q7vvyZV2UHicxZUoHqPwi-ClU/edit

Do let me know what you think. Thnx for reading.