Saturday, March 18, 2006

writing voodoo

Okay, it might not be voodoo per se, but voodoo-esque at the very least. Whatever it is, I believe in it. I totally submit to writing voodoo. I am superstitious as hell when it comes to writing. I light the incense and candles, have the altar, collect totems and the whole bit. You know why? Because it works. I've been in the writing equivalent of a muddy spring rut for a few weeks now, thinking I'm getting out only to find I'm not at all, and it was getting really aggravating. It will get that way again. It's just that I was starting to very quietly freak out about the silences in my head, so the other day I did two Heidivoodoo tricks. 1. I looked for music. 2. I wrote a letter to the story. For the first, I went to iTunes and just let the electronic muses guide me. I ended up with a lot of Moby, and I can't tell you how I ended up there. All I know was suddenly I had the entire Ambient album and made various selections from Hotel. Then I went back on yesterday or the day before, it's all starting to blur -- anyway, the second time I ended up with Voodoo Child -- or is it Baby Monkey? Anyway, whatever it is, I bought it, and then wandered into some DJ Tiesto mixes (I'm sure I'm spelling Tiesto wrong, and I am sorry, DJ, but if I say your stuff rocks will you forgive me?) and bought "In My Memory" and "Close to You," or something like that. In two days I've listened to "In My Memory" over twenty times, and that's just the iTunes count. It's also in the car and on my iPod. For the second, I just opened my story journal and said please. It was pretty basic. It was also sincere. I just thought, you know, this can't hurt, because I'm already fashionably crazy. Actually, my rational brain had it all worked out that it was some sort of fabulous psychological exercise. Whatever. It was voodoo. And it worked. Two scenes today -- one only okay, the other not bad, I think, and neither in order. I'm also a long way into a snappy, anal outline which is candy for my I-love-order Virgo self, and the Wall of Notecards is coming soon, I can tell you that. All this is shorthand for, "the story is coming back." And maybe it was just time, maybe it was psychology, or maybe the gods are now appeased and giving me license to explore the world of story again. You know what? WHATEVER. So long as the voodoo works, I'm going to be happy. Happy, happy, happy. And writing again, thank God.


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