Tuesday, July 07, 2009

Farming...

For some time now I've felt the saturation of too many words, of too much life, crowding my heart and head. Mornings, when I wake with the chortling birds, the words have come reluctantly, exerting their own tug-of-war that not even two cups of coffee can overcome. I have a short story due the end of July for an anthology and, as of last week, not a sentence committed to paper. Not even an idea. So when I left for North Carolina last week, I left sans computer, sans files, sans everything but a few stories written by friends. I decided to BE - in the moment, in the breath - for a few days.

On Sunday morning I stole away with my husband to the daylily farm a few miles from my parents' house. The air was swollen with moisture. While my husband chose his specimens, I paced the lanes between furrows of flowers, their reds and oranges, lilacs and pinks richer in the overcast. I walked for exercise - it was a large field as daylily fields go - and to release the tensions that continued to dog me. Workers pulled plants from the ground and tended the lilies still striving toward a distant sun. In the back field, a young man and woman clambered from a pick-up truck and began to harvest hydrangea blooms. Watching them as I walked, the muse snuck in and whispered: Clayton Oxendine Pettigrew, and the story unfurled.

I am smitten with my new character and his story, and hope to constrain GONE to its 2500 word limit - I have not written a 'proper' short before. But I like the sprawl of a novel, the luxury of space a long story affords, so who knows? For now, Clayton plants the red clay of Eastern North Carolina and I farm my words...

Peace, Linda

10 comments:

  1. In the now, what a nice time to be in!
    good post

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  2. Good post, Linda. It's a nice feeling when the muse pays a visit. I've had the same experience, whether it was while mowing the yard or vacuuming the floors or painting the walls to my parents' new house. When that happens, you can hardly wait to get back to the laptop and let your fingers race across the keys.

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  3. Interesting metaphor, to farm words. We do that, as writers. We cultivate our words and watch them grow as we type across the screen, half hypnotised by our own muse. I like that.

    Jai

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  4. Glad Carolina could inspire you, Linda. She's been very good to me for germinating ideas.

    Can't wait to read about Clayton!

    --John

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  5. The greatest gift of writing is when the character and story come easily. After many weeks at a dru trough, it was about damn time... but sometimes stuff needs to ferment.

    Peace, Linda

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  6. Glad the dry spell has broken. This is the best way for stories to come, I think--in that quiet, restive place where our muse can finally find words and we are still enough to hear her whisper. I find it so interesting how one character and his life can unfurl from a single word or image. Can't wait to read the new story.

    Greta

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  7. Thanks Greta. Yes, that quiet place. So damn elusive with children. Some days I'd like to become a nun.

    Be careful what you wish for! Peace, Linda

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  8. You a nun? Ha. Not with a Clayton running around in your head. Great post, look forward to the read.
    DeborahB

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  9. Linda,
    I have an Award for you. Its a Hearthfelt Award!
    Come by and pick it up!
    Shellie
    http://layersofthought.blogspot.com/2009/07/three-awards-for-me-and-now-finally-my.html

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  10. Thanks for the Heartfelt, Shellie! And thanks for popping by...

    Deborah, thank goodness Clayton's almost fully committed... to paper, that is. This story totally consumed me for two weeks. As you know ;^)

    Peace, Linda

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