Engrossed

Things have bee quiet about here, so the hubby and I have been chilling out (a little too much, perhaps) and watching some old TV shows and the like. May sound super lazy, but we are trying to enjoy spending our time together before he has to go back to school for the semester. I’ve been itching to do some personal writing during the day while things are so slow, but I haven’t had the heart to do anything. I think I might get the urge once he’s back to night classes, and I find myself with a surplus of alone time.

With everything we watch, I am more and more fixated on the questions of storytelling and character development. I find myself analyzing things as I tended to in college, trying to fix a formula for a good yarn in my head. I’ve said since I was a little girl that all I ever wanted to do with my writing is to get someone to experience emotion. It doesn’t matter what it is. I see a story as the ultimate way to reach out and touch another human being. Unfortuately, I have find myself pretty competant at strining pretty words together, but I rarely have the gut to inject the amount of conflict that a good story needs. I’m an amicable person at heart, and I never really want to set bad things (fictional or not) into motion.

I tend to keep things very minimalistic and focus on very small things that rack my main characters with guilt, sadness, and other similar emotions. This is probably because I have always been very sensitive emotionally. My husband once remarked that the entire climax of one of my stories could be a facial expression or comment that sent the character into a downward spiral. He advised me, rightly, that not everyone gets that sort of thing.

In the end, I see my tendency to focus on the undertones of human interaction as a limiting factor to my writing. To me, it is almost a manifestation of a lack of imagination. I mean really, don’t all of the great writers play fast and loose with reality from time to time?

Therefore, I’ve taken to spending some time studying the most over-the-top and colorful stuff I can get my hands on. No, it’s not mythology. Although, my friends know that I have an almost unhealthy love of Greek myth. No, all of the comic book movies coming out the summer have piqued my interest in classic superhero stories. Wikipedia and various fan sites dot my browser history, and I have even more respect for the writers than I did as an adolescent with a passing interest in the X-Men and Batman. These people have kept characters, relationships, and (most importantly) rivalries interesting for over 40 and 50 years. They certainly know a thing or two about taking some chances in a story line.

So, where better to learn about imagination than among caped crusaders?

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