without fail, i would exhaust myself writing for pages about them; the exact color of the protagonist's hair, the complete description of their house layout, an excruciating year-by-year explanation of the tragic childhood that led to the present issues at hand. with a cramped hand and a steadily rising loss of attention, i'd either put them aside to finish later (something that never happened) or wrap them up awkwardly in 2 hastily penned sentences summing up the rest of the plot. i now own at least 6 notebooks filled with half-baked stories that are hilarious to re-read, but otherwise meaningless.
i've been thinking that this applies to something much bigger than writing weird stories, though. what if we're all getting caught up in the details, the small things that don't really matter, and just end up complicating our stories beyond any purpose? it's so easy to be strangled by the tiny things that seem so critical in the day-to-day grind, but it's something worth resisting.
when we're done here, our stories should be a crazy, complex, winding road of mistakes, confusion, joy, sadness, and everything else we experience. there will be details - every good story has them - but they shouldn't override the whole gist of it. there's no need for forced endings with all the important stuff crammed in at the last second, and there's no need for our stories to trail off pointlessly.
i guess what this all sums up to is that details are important, but they are details and only details - and i, for one, don't want my story to end up half-finished and meaningless because of them.
1 comment:
You and me both, sister, except my characters always had really awesome childhoods and a brother and a dog with a funny name, and really boring lives, that's why I never finished mine.
I love this, beeteedubs, and also you.
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