I can’t stand metaphors and yet … see my title. Ridiculous. What was the alternative? ‘Here Are Pieces of My Mind, My Thinking?’ That’s no lure. Neither is a cabinet.
I don’t think anyone needs to or wants to know what I think, but how is … well, it’s entertaining to me, which is truly convenient.
When I look back at my note-and-sketchbooks, I’m not appalled, even if it’s appalling. I like seeing how I tried and tried again. And again.
I like finding notes from months ago, paragraphs that aren’t much different and occasionally, are nearly the same, as what appeared in my notebook that day. I like finding notes that remind me how easy it is to be all noble and self righteous until you’re not. I’m SO happy that doesn’t happen often. But it happens.
These are some bits and pieces from last week:
waiting for encouragement and kindness, applause and approval left her in the same position as when she was worrying about disapproval.
I write copious character notes – not facts or biographical details but things like dialogue, voice and language and cadence tests. I think I’m measuring the distance between what a character says and how they say it and what they really think.
Violet is a handful. Violet is wild. Violet doesn’t care on bit, not at all. Ask anyone.
Except Violet. She has one little head and much is happening in it.
I don’t think this is what Violet will look like, unless Violet insists on looking like this. But her story is already different than what I scribbled above.