It is a long road that I believe never truly ends. That road is that of a writer when finding
their voice. The best of the best say
that the most important part of this journey is the journey. No matter what never stop writing. For many
writers that is almost like saying never stop breathing. But as an asthmatic I can tell you that
breathing is not always a guarantee. And over the years my writing has come and
gone like a breath in some instances. Whiffed away without any hesitation or
thought. My well seemingly run very dry.
However my mind still swam with scenarios of unfulfilled
passions and desires. The human spirit needs passion and desire. Creation is as much a part of living as the
breathing and the beating. Most seem to not notice that life is nothing if not
a lesson in sheer natural brutality. The elements that make us up crammed
together in clumps and fits. Our very
systems demand the use of words like force, beat, move. As they say the
struggle is real. And it is a struggle.
Nothing worth having has ever been born politely. It comes in a haze of
blood, sweat, and tears screaming its battle cry ready to be heard, listened to
and engaged. Life does not ask for the fight, life demands it. So the only
failure is in trying to deny the fight. Because then you are truly denying
life.
When I decided I wanted to try my hand as a writer I was
sure that I wanted to write romance. I had a game plan like I normally do. I
wanted to start as a romance writer then move into more science fiction or
fantasy. As offensive as the thought is I was young and foolish enough to
believe romance writing was an easier place to start. I was very very foolish
years ago. As many know the genre is not well thought of by literature critics.
However I dare to say that writing romance may be even harder because of how it
is thought of.
It reminds me of professional wrestling in a lot of
ways. The trick to professional
wrestling is that there is no trick. Its hard work, dedication to a goal and a
performance. It eats up life because the only way to get better like with any
craft is to continue to hone it. And yet it is not very well thought of by many
people who view it as fake. In many ways
similar to how some authors view genre writers. The analogy forces me to think
about the limitations provided just by perception. Because the barriers are not
one sided. All are affected by the
perception and the need to justify it. As human beings we love balance and we
like to know the answer. We subconsciously lean to a lie of perception as much
as we may lean to the truth. Just as there is no way to convince gravity to
stop working for a wrestler, there is no way to easily construct a palpable
endearing emotion laden first kiss for a romance author. It is a sport of conditioning,
practice, and training. The road is long
and the culmination is to tell the perfect story.
I now know that there is no such thing as an easy writing.
The quality writing, the change the world stuff is a labor of intense love,
commitment and selfless devotion. It is staying up all night to finish the most
crucial scene you have ever written. But
they all are aren’t they? And the answer is yes, every single one IS the most
crucial scene you have ever written.
I was given the advice that my heart knew was true before it
was even given. Write what you love. I
started writing because of love, I write about love. But I was looking for the trick, I was asking
gravity to stop working for a moment. Sometimes in a craft you get completely
immersed in your tools instead of the art giving the tool the power. It becomes
about fitting in, coloring in the lines and less about expressing your unique
voice. The truth is the man behind the curtain is in fact just a man. A man dedicated and committed enough to an
idea that he was able to convince the world he was an all-powerful wizard. He
went outside of genre, outside what the limitations of a man should be. In the process he stopped allowing his tools
to limit him, he instead gave them new power.
I was a visual artist in high school and became a vocalist
and music composer. I noticed early in my art studies that I was better with
colors than with black and white. What I
understood before I left was that this was a myth I had told myself. My mind
was so enrapt with technique that art was not being made. When I went into
music I noticed the same. I was concerned with vocal replication of other
artists and not concerned with my own sound. The girl is hardheaded. Somewhere
in my junior year of high school, somewhere in the middle of performing Deep
River, somewhere in the middle of composing my 3rd work technique faded and art
finally took form. The moment is indescribable. For a split second you hear
clearly, you feel deeply. The world is
beautiful, lovely. You absolutely matter and what you have to say bears weight
and has the meaning and affluence of a living viable human soul and spirit
laced throughout it. It connects you to the now, the past the future and the
fountain of infinite bliss and wisdom. Pure as you and I are meant to be.
The point is have influences, mimic them as you need, read
the art books, understand the style, refine your craft; use your tools. Before
its over though make sure the voice is your own. A lesson I have to teach myself over and over
again. This is my ultimate love letter to remind myself why I should never give
the tools power but instead use the art to empower them. I'm writing this so
that when I start to forget and I'm worried about book sales, or another press
or agent saying no that I stick to my declaration and follow the advice of
knowledgeable others. I embrace these
tools and make them an extension of myself and what I need this world to see
and understand. That I listen to the beating, pounding pace of my heart and
stay with the fight. That I fill what I do with my will, my spirit; my spark.
With my love, always with my love.
