A Writer's Soup
I was recently in the company of a woman who had to be the center of attention. I LOVE being around people, and I LOVE lively conversation--but don't need to work a stand-up routine, if you know what I mean. People like that tend to make me go to the other room at a cocktail party (which is what I did). Then I start looking for a wall to lean against (which I did). Then I refill my drink while hiding (ditto). Then I leave (which I did).
Which is NOT to say everything she was ranting about wasn't funny. Some of it was. But I'll get to that later.
When I first moved to my new home, I was cornered by another woman at a barbeque-type thing, and she went on--at length--about how terribly interesting she and her family were and how they would make a great book. I wanted to drown myself in the pool's deep end. One, she wasn't interesting. Two, she was rather imperious and rude. And three . . . well, they WOULDN'T make a great book, just a bit character for a laugh or to infuriate.
And that is what writing is about. It's like a soup. Made by Anthony Bourdain (because in my life, all paths lead back to Tony). He advocates throwing out your ENTIRE spice rack. Go ahead, throw it all out! Use only FRESH basil, oregano, garlic, parsley, chives in your food, in your soups. Dried stuff is for pout pourri (he didn't say THAT, but I figure it's true).
That is like a book. Don't rehash old, stale, dried-out characters. Even for your secondaries. Give them fresh, lively back stories. And DON'T let them take over your soup. A dash of the stand-up comic, and a modicum of the rude drone will do.
The trick, of course, is figuring out just what the right mix is. How do you simmer your work in progress? For me, it's making sure it all moves it forward, baby. Then I am sure the soup works. Even if I have to pull some stuff out. Part with it. Move it along. But make sure it's fresh. I love my grey characters . . . none of them tread fully in the light, and I like them that way. Keeps 'em lively.
How about your soup?
Which is NOT to say everything she was ranting about wasn't funny. Some of it was. But I'll get to that later.
When I first moved to my new home, I was cornered by another woman at a barbeque-type thing, and she went on--at length--about how terribly interesting she and her family were and how they would make a great book. I wanted to drown myself in the pool's deep end. One, she wasn't interesting. Two, she was rather imperious and rude. And three . . . well, they WOULDN'T make a great book, just a bit character for a laugh or to infuriate.
And that is what writing is about. It's like a soup. Made by Anthony Bourdain (because in my life, all paths lead back to Tony). He advocates throwing out your ENTIRE spice rack. Go ahead, throw it all out! Use only FRESH basil, oregano, garlic, parsley, chives in your food, in your soups. Dried stuff is for pout pourri (he didn't say THAT, but I figure it's true).
That is like a book. Don't rehash old, stale, dried-out characters. Even for your secondaries. Give them fresh, lively back stories. And DON'T let them take over your soup. A dash of the stand-up comic, and a modicum of the rude drone will do.
The trick, of course, is figuring out just what the right mix is. How do you simmer your work in progress? For me, it's making sure it all moves it forward, baby. Then I am sure the soup works. Even if I have to pull some stuff out. Part with it. Move it along. But make sure it's fresh. I love my grey characters . . . none of them tread fully in the light, and I like them that way. Keeps 'em lively.
How about your soup?


4 Comments:
Ack! This is too wickedly weird! I just blogged about this :0
As usual, my soup boil-ith over. A little of it is stale old dried stuff. A little is too much of a good thing. And just like when I cook, I've been close to it long enough that my senses are dulled. More pepper? Too salty? A shot of Tabasco maybe? How 'bout a dash of merlot?
Nah, drink the merlot and let that sucker simmer on the back burner. :)
As far as neighbors etc. It's been my experience that someone eager to tell you how *interesting* they are, is usually the most boring, self-absorbed person walking the face of the freakin' earth!
Hi Lainey:
Stepping back and simmering is a brilliant analogy. I do that, too.
And yes . . . the people who think they are fascinating usually aren't.
E
Make my soup crow this time.
Sorry if I sounded like such a butthead on that last post.
W.W.I.
xo
Jude:
No big deal. We just have different opinions.
:-)
E
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