My thoughts don’t seem to be able to collect this month. Or last month. I feel as if they’re birds in a cage, fluttering wildly against the bars, trying to do what they were meant to do, but unable to escape. It isn’t necessarily a bad feeling, just a mildly annoying one. (Well, sometimes more than mildly, depending on what I want to say.) I don’t have a silver tongue, my sentences are filled with ‘um’s and ‘uh’s and ‘wait, no, hang on’ and ‘that’s-not-what-I-meant’s. It’s only when I put things down on paper (or type it up) that they seem to form a cohesive thought, something understandable and maybe even enjoyable to read.
I found myself in a gloomy mood this morning, and the weather only personified it in nature. I love gloomy days, but they usually cheer me up and relax me. Today it felt as if it was sympathizing with me – “I understand, there, there.” However, I don’t LIKE to be stuck in a bad mood, so I came downstairs and did a lot of heavy thinking. Heavy, abstract, Piccasso-ish thinking. And I read my Bible, and you know the verse that says Be still, and know that I am God? That one really struck me. I thought – how often am I still, just to listen to Him? How can I actually just know that He is God? They might seem childishly simple, but they felt pretty complex to me.
But then, I’m a Bear of Very Little Brain and I was able to quench my bad mood with some spiritual thought and this picture. I feel a bit sorry for him; I pencilled my bad mood out onto paper and he took the brunt. He looks it, too. He needs a cookie. Poor piskie.
Oddly enough, it helped. It was very relaxing and bad-mood-banishing, and it was one of the rare times that the pencil in my hand actually does what I want it to and I felt very satisfied because it looks like a mix of styles – Burdge and Tony Diterlizzi. Which is a combination that really cannot be beat.
However, to get back to subject of muddled thoughts – see? I can’t even think in a straight line on my BLOG, for crying out loud! – do you ever feel as if there are a million things you want to say, but you have no way to say them? I could have a megaphone and an amplifier set up in front of me, along with one of those little clip-on microphones, and I would still be unable to open my mouth and do anything but squeak “Er.”
It’s odd I should feel so scattered – that’s the word! Scattered! – considering life is looking up. My brain seems to have wrapped itself – FINALLY – around algebra, and I”m nearly done with it – a month more, maybe – and, while this may not seem like a big deal to you, it is to me. Compare it to a helicopter rescuing a drowning swimmer who’s being attacked by sharks and sucked into a vortex.
I know I always feel a little broody when I’m starting a book – when I’m starting a book that requires deep thought, anyhow. Since I’ve begun the Shadows Lengthen, my mind has been serious and deep and my Facebooking has been fluffly and fangirly (apparently I can’t do both). Remember when I said in THIS post –
our brains are too full of the cosmos inside, spinning with ideas and characters and plots and subplots and lines and situations and costumes and details and POV’s and books that most information we receive tends to leak out drains marked ‘Unimportant.’ (Which is, of course, very handy for a writer, but awful for life skills.)
Well, I have another theory. When a Christian begins a book – knowing full well the responsibility laid upon their shoulders to speak the truth and shed light on darkness to the best of their ability – I think satan attacks stronger than ever. I think he sends little, black, ugly demons to scrabble at your brain and rot your inspiration and attack every noble thought you wanted to put to paper.
To hold a pen is to be at war.
And therefore, I’m at war, and have been for quite a while. The nice thing is that I know, with God’s help, I will come out the victor and my book WILL be written and I WILL write the words I was meant to write, but I have to perservere. I have to push through the brooding periods at the beginning of my novels, when my brain is spinning with plots and ideas and allegorical streaks and my characters are jabbering in my ears, and I have to write.
So that’s what I’m going to do.
And if you actually stuck through and read this post, I’m amazed and proud and you deserve one of the cookies I’d reserved for the forlorn piskie up there. ^_^