More on SNIS
Yes, more on Shiny New Idea Syndrome. A quote to ponder:
"A mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions."~Oliver Wendell Holmes
In my life, I can remember a few moments that very much embody the Holmes quote. One time was when I read Viktor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning. I was in the hospital battling Crohn's disease, and as usual, I approached hospitalization like I was being punished and said to my doctor, "How soon until I get out?" Hospital was like prison, at least in my mind. I viewed every stay as pushing myself as fast as possible to get released, and beware any poor doctor who said, "Maybe Tuesday," because by Monday night, I'd be bugging them to process me out. But this time I was hospitalized, I was in such bad shape that the doctor was measuring my stay in WEEKS and MONTHS, not days. His answer was "You're going to be here for a long while."
I was understandably devastated. By about day five, I was so homesick, I didn't think I'd ever get better because I had a broken heart missing my daughter (an only child at the time) so much.
A friend of mine recommended the book, and I was so sick, I remember I could maybe get through a page or two at a time. But eventually, as I got better, I whipped through it. Then I proceeded to start all over reading it again. And then again. My copy has pages falling out and is held together by rubber bands. And I remember the most unusual sensation. My brain felt like it had exploded. The concepts were so amazing, so true, so life-altering, that I knew my life would be measured by who I was before the book, and who I was after.
So it is, in a smaller way, with SNIS. Once an idea is up there in my brain, it becomes this living thing. There's no putting it "back"--no pushing it into a closet or beating it back into submission. Even if I NEVER write the book that's dying to be written, my brain is forever changed by it's being there. Which is one of the wonders of creativity and the human mind.
So has an idea . . . or a book . . . changed you? Stretched you to new dimensions? Thoughts?
"A mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions."~Oliver Wendell Holmes
In my life, I can remember a few moments that very much embody the Holmes quote. One time was when I read Viktor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning. I was in the hospital battling Crohn's disease, and as usual, I approached hospitalization like I was being punished and said to my doctor, "How soon until I get out?" Hospital was like prison, at least in my mind. I viewed every stay as pushing myself as fast as possible to get released, and beware any poor doctor who said, "Maybe Tuesday," because by Monday night, I'd be bugging them to process me out. But this time I was hospitalized, I was in such bad shape that the doctor was measuring my stay in WEEKS and MONTHS, not days. His answer was "You're going to be here for a long while."
I was understandably devastated. By about day five, I was so homesick, I didn't think I'd ever get better because I had a broken heart missing my daughter (an only child at the time) so much.
A friend of mine recommended the book, and I was so sick, I remember I could maybe get through a page or two at a time. But eventually, as I got better, I whipped through it. Then I proceeded to start all over reading it again. And then again. My copy has pages falling out and is held together by rubber bands. And I remember the most unusual sensation. My brain felt like it had exploded. The concepts were so amazing, so true, so life-altering, that I knew my life would be measured by who I was before the book, and who I was after.
So it is, in a smaller way, with SNIS. Once an idea is up there in my brain, it becomes this living thing. There's no putting it "back"--no pushing it into a closet or beating it back into submission. Even if I NEVER write the book that's dying to be written, my brain is forever changed by it's being there. Which is one of the wonders of creativity and the human mind.
So has an idea . . . or a book . . . changed you? Stretched you to new dimensions? Thoughts?
Labels: Shiny New Idea Syndrome, Viktor Frankl
posted by Erica Orloff at 7:24 AM
11 Comments:
As with all of your posts, I don't know where to begin. I'll limit myself to one slice of what I'm thinking.
I had the extraordinary opportunity to teach undergraduates for two years at the University of Illinois. I've stood in front of classrooms plenty of times since, but I absorbed The Lesson at UofI: the best way to learn something is to teach it.
I was expected to spend about 20 hours a week preparing my lessons. I spent 50 hours preparing, because I wanted to do a great job (not just a good job), and the result was I learned much more than I could possibly have shared with the students. The experience benefitted me more than them.
Writing is a form of teaching, a kind of soapbox we stand on to deliver what we think others should hear. Not everyone has the opportunity to spend four months lecturing to students who have paid to listen. But everyone can put pen to paper. If you want to learn something about (say) Crohn's Disease, write an essay about it.
Writing, like teaching and public speaking, stretches us far beyond our self-imposed limits.
Stephen:
Wow . . . yes, so true. I have learned so much as a writer by teaching--editing other people and inserting comments and talking to them about why one might make this choice or that in terms of their work. Writing is an odd profession in that way--it's never about just pouring out what's inside. It's almost always about stretching your boundaries as you go.
All the time, the most significant being an essay by Stephen King called "The Making of a Brand Name" that appeared at the front of a collection of essays about King. It inspired me to start writing, so yeah, big effect.
And probably everything I've ever read.
Again, another one for me in terms of career was probably "The Well-Fed Writer" by Peter Bowerman, because he was so adamant about saying, yes, you can not only make a living writing, you can make a good living and then shows how (everybody's path is different, however).
Glancing over at my bookshelf, it's sort of hard to pick one out. I know that Jonathan Kellerman's "Silent Partners" was a book that suggested to me where my creative true north might be located.
Dick Francis' "To The Hilt" which is, among many things, about a creative life and living inside and outside of society as a result of it, has really resonated for me.
Stephen King's "Bag of Bones" which is about a novelist dealing with the death of his wife, resonates for me still.
So many books...
Hi mark:
I will have to check out a couple of the books you listed.
I know when I read GOOD OMENS by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett I was struck by the idea that there were people writing popular books that were so utterly absurd. I loved it!
E
Frampton Comes Alive. Enough said.
Jude:
LOL! You were just jealous of his hair.
E
Hey, that record was perfect except for one thing: it needed MORE COWBELL.
Jude:
Of course. Because we know the prescription. ;-)
E
Gaiman's Anansi Boys taught me how I want to do beginnings. He taught me about hooking all over the place.
Then, the way the book was structured led me to think that the beginning and the end were almost the same. So then I started to read books backwards to test my theory. (It works until the end - exposition; the exposition can only be read forwards.)
The plot and endings of my stories improved, but it screwed up my process. :-)
Spy:
Wow . .. I will have to pick up a couple of books and work backwards. Interesting!
E
First time, it blew my mind. I looked at the whole world differently. It was sort of bizarre; the next day it caused a completely unrelated breakthrough in a teaching rut I'd been in for a couple years, that's how much it changed my brain.
Totally weird. Bizarre. ;-)
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