“I am raining down in pieces. I am scattering like light.”
That quote is from Suzanne Vega’s song “Small Blue Thing” which I rediscovered while sorting my CDs. And it perfectly describes my current state of mind. I don’t seem to be able to concentrate on anything. The least thing distracts me. I am scattered in pieces.
This is a state of emptiness, I think. A time to refill, to soak in, to expand and solidify. This feeling reminds me of a familiar process. Usually, three times a week, I make bread. I mix the flours, water, salt, yeast, and oil and I knead it, let it rise, punch it down, let it rise again, form it into a loaf, let it rise once more, and then bake. When that loaf is eaten, I start the process over.
You can try to hurry the bread-making process—knead it less, skip a rising—but you won’t get the beautiful loaf you expect. Right now, I am scattered. I am in the ingredients stage. I need to be patient and let the “magic” happen.
sounds like Divine Timing at work. : )
I’ll go with that because it’s certainly not MY timing.
Homemade bread sounds SO DELICIOUS right now. It makes me want to bake some, too! Oh, wait…that would probably distract me from today’s goals of writing and working out. Still, it’s tempting! I’ve been scattering like light this week, too – yesterday, I couldn’t focus for the life of me. Today’s been better, though. Enjoy the process, and you’re right, you can’t force the magic. That was a timely reminder for me this morning, thank you!
You’re welcome. Maybe it’s something in the air. Or the stars. Or mischievous fairies.
I’m easily distracted too. I can’t seem to focus on some pretty important things right now. I’m dragged off to other realms at the drop of a hat and I just can’t seem to make myself …
… Oh look! I just got an email!
Ah, yes, email. Some days I force myself to turn it off … for a while. But now, I’m waiting for that glorious email from an agent requesting a partial … or what the heck, a full! Oh, look I have several white roses in bloom. Maybe I’ll go outside into the sunshine.
Hocus Pocus Focus Focus! Being a loaf of bread is a fine state. A fine state. I too am rising, rising.
Mary, you are soooo into poetry mode today.
I like your description or I should say your metaphore about the bread and the processus of writing. I feel exactly like this at the moment. When I start a new novel, I am doing a lot a search for the story I whant to write. This make me travel around a lot of different world and culture. I just try to feel the essentiel part of the theme I whant to develop…
Sometimes, My mind is totaly lost in tranlation… To many new idea at the sametimes. I think its just a state of mine that will past when the bread… the story will be clear in my head and on the paper.
Yes! The steps of writing are like bread making too. Here’s to all of us turning out perfect loaves.
I go through this about once a month. It’s not specifically related to writing, but impacts it greatly. I feel as if I’m a snake trying to shed its skin – I’m writhing in discomfort. Arrgh.
But your post reminds me (because I’m going through it at this moment – I couldn’t write my poem yesterday) that it will pass. Thank you.
You’re welcome. I’m trying not to be impatient, but right now, as the sun is sinking low, the world outside my window has turned golden, and yet all I can think of is, my feet are cold. I do so desire a rush of excellent words.
You’re making me hungry. Great image, and rising bread is magic, so I know the writing magic will happen in its own good time.
Must not rush. Must not rush. Must not rush.
I love homemade bread. I’m in the “must not rush” phase too. I’ve learned something about this industry in general: That is their theme. “Must not rush”. I think it’s their way of making sure we’re sane before they publish us. If we can survive this process without pulling our hair out, they reward us.
Ah, industry secret. I just read Nathan’s blog about this. It was funny to hear him speak from the “other side.”
I love this: This is a state of emptiness, I think. A time to refill, to soak in, to expand and solidify.
I, too, am in a fairly constant state of distraction. When I read that line, my whole body relaxed. It’s a much better way to look at it than, “j, seriously, someone needs to save you from yourself.”
Patience. Okay… (thanks!)
I’m happy you found something worthwhile in the post. From time to time–okay, nearly every day–I need to remind myself of the steps in the process. I just miss waking up every morning excited to work on my novel.
Lovely analogy, Linda. I also really like the Suzanne Vega lyrics. I will have to check out the song on Itunes. Happy Thanksgiving!
I’ve been rediscovering some quieter music lately. I haven’t followed Suzanne Vega’s career, but I find her old stuff inspirational.