Early morning
I’m hungry, but I want to spend a few minutes writing before I make breakfast. Besides, after I eat I plan on tucking myself back into bed with a cup of tea and Prodigal Summer, and once I get started, I don’t want to stop for a couple hours.
When I shuffled into the livingroom this morning, the sweet, potent aroma of magnolia filled the air. Somebody had gathered one of the huge blossoms from our tree out front, and put it on the table in a vase. The fragrance is so much better than dog. Then, when I sat down at the computer, a little note greeted me (not aloud): “Hey Mommy, Good morning. How are you this morning? Well, just wanted to say ‘HI’!! Torie” Two fresh surprises on an early Saturday morning. What a great way to start the day.
For the last few days I’ve been feeling peaceful again, after a couple weeks of near despair that I’d lost it forever. I don’t know why it’s suddenly returned, but once again I can sink down into my spirit to hang with God, instead of bobbling around the surface in a panic. None of our circumstances have really changed, so that can’t be it. Happily, I don’t need to figure it out; all I need to do is enjoy it.
As many of you know, I started a novel a few years ago and have been able to work on it only in fits and starts throughout the years, usually only when I was recovering from a long illness, or some other forced solitude, and I’ve been growing increasingly frustrated at my apparent inability to follow through and finish it. What I read this morning in Fifty Days of Solitude, by Doris Grumbach, illuminated and encouraged me. She wrote:
“Benjamin Sachs, in Paul Auster’s recent novel Leviathan says: ‘The two times I’ve sat down and written a novel, I’ve been cut off from the rest of the world, first in jail when I was a kid (he had been a conscientious objector), and now up here in Vermont, living like a hermit in the woods. I wonder what the hell it means.’
“Peter Aaron responds: ‘It means you can’t live without other people…. When they’re there for you in the flesh, the real world is sufficient. When you’re alone, you have to invent imaginary characters. You need them for companionship.’
“So. Solitude is the proper condition for the creation of fictional characters, to keep me company…. The longer I stay alone, I reasoned, the greater the imaginary population of the house, the richer the fiction.”
Obviously, this isn’t true of every writer. Charles Dickens had a huge family, lived an incredibly busy life filled with people, and still pumped out volume after volume. But I know it’s true for me. I know now that that’s why “when the kids leave home… when the kids leave home… when the kids leave home…” rolls continually through my head like a hopeful little mantra. When the kids leave home, it’s possible I’ll miss them so much I won’t be able to live without my fictional Martin Doyle and his family and friends. Plus, I’m relieved that in the meantime, I don’t have to beat the crap out of myself emotionally for not getting to it yet. All in good time, my pretty. Aaalll in good time.
Now, what do I do about the fact that I’ve been so entrenched in blogging and all its accoutrements that I haven’t been painting? Hopefully things’ll settle down in this department, too. Aaalll in goo… yeah. xo
July 2nd, 2005 08:50
I am in awe of anyone who sets out with the incredible goal of writing a book. Amazing. You’re so brave. Creativity is so beautiful. So like, well, the Creator.
Hope you’re enjoying Prodigal Summer. Ever read Life of Pi?
July 2nd, 2005 09:07
I’m in awe, too, and I think that’s why it’s so daunting to me. You get to thinking, “Who do I think I am?” But then you get to thinking, “Why not??”
I do love Prodigal Summer so far. And it’s funny that you mentioned Life of Pi, because I left you a comment on your site a few posts back, that you must have missed. I asked if you knew what the teeth in the tree on the island represented. (Were they the remains of people who’d been enveloped by the vegetation, or some such thing?)… It’s hard to remember the details now because it’s been awhile since I read it, but it seems that’s the only part of the book that really flummoxed me. The rest I found wonderful and surprising, up until the very end.
Two of my favorite books ever are Possessed by A.S. Byatt, and Bel Canto by Anne Patchett. Ever read either of those? I bet you’d like them.
July 2nd, 2005 10:24
Oops, my bad. I forgot. The teeth in the tree. Yeah, that whole island section was weird, even for that book. I’m not too clear on it now, but at the time I think I looked on the island experience as a “false light” type thing. And the way following after false light will eventually eat away at the true spiritual impulse.
I remember being struck by the symbolism of Pi’s family. They covered the spectrum of human spiritual posibility:Father-atheist, Mother-cold, dead religion, Brother-distracted by temporary material world. And how, to pursue the path of spirituality they must all die.
Also, the last sentence in the book made me cry unexpectedly. I was touched at the report, at the choice to put in print which story they opted for. Like the theme all throughout the book - faith vs. doubt. You CHOOSE the mystical path because it’s comlier, lovlier, richer, more fragrant and filling - if mysterious. The path of doubt has only dry, hard fact without magic or sparkle.
Thanks for the recomendations, I’ve added them to my list.
July 2nd, 2005 12:21
Not to break a train of writing thought, but How was your trip to the graduation? and did Jesse do well? and you know all the other questions I can’t think to ask. You have to answer before it gets too hot, ot you’ll put it off again. How do you LIVE in that heat (I remember Bakersfield)? We hibernated in the shade and the river and the swimming pool and slept? through the hot times. Oh, but it is cool and nice here today, however, the weather service is calling for VERY Hot over the next few days. Glad for air conditioning and lots of shade. Anyway please tell us a little of Jesse’s graduation and all the attending events that make those times memorable. love, dad
July 2nd, 2005 17:07
Hi Twyla. You make me want to read the book again. I’m not much into reading into symbolism in stories; I wish I was better at that. I didn’t realize that Watership Down was about government systems until somebody mentioned it. I thought it was just a nice story about bunnies. Okay, I wasn’t that unaware, but almost…
I’m going to look at Pi again.
July 2nd, 2005 17:13
Don’t worry, Dad; I won’t let you down. For the last couple days I’ve been letting Jesse’s story ferment; I want to do it justice. You’ll be hearing about it within the next few days.
The temp finally dropped a little this evening. It’s raining, which always cools things off. You know well that we don’t have central air (just fans and window units), having visited us in the summer months. We stay pretty sticky. And we nap a lot. Order ahead for cool weather when we come in a couple weeks, okay? xo