Bloody Writing
This week's family phrase will be "I'll bet my dick and a dollar" and that blog will be coming soon. Err... well, maybe that wasn't the proper way to describe it because now it sounds dirty, but I digress. That blog will be posted soon.
But first, let's talk for a bit about "bloody writing."
It's been said before that all writers can be bastards. We can be complete bastards that seek the solace inside ourselves instead of in others. We build sky-high walls with bricks forged of pain and scar tissue that are damn near impenetrable to all but a few that we allow in.
All that, and more, is something I'd agree with completely.
Every writer I've ever known uses their craft to expel demons they tend to grapple with. Bleeding on the page. Bloody writing.
Most have stories they've written and put in a drawer, maybe only to be seen by a few faces - if only to share their methods of exorcism. Most, but not all, of these stories will never see light again.
I touched on that in high school for a bit - I had reams of poetry filled with angst and heartbreak that were for me and only read by me to get the shadows out of my head.
I'd never written a story that I thought would be placed into cold storage until recently.
I'm bloody up to my elbows on this one.
Did I mention I love metaphors?
So today, you go do what you do best to make you feel happy. Go play with the kids. Go put on a pair of red high heels and dance the blues. Throw Muddy Water on the cd player or scream the lyrics to Public Enemy.
Me? I've got more blood to spill.
But first, let's talk for a bit about "bloody writing."
It's been said before that all writers can be bastards. We can be complete bastards that seek the solace inside ourselves instead of in others. We build sky-high walls with bricks forged of pain and scar tissue that are damn near impenetrable to all but a few that we allow in.
All that, and more, is something I'd agree with completely.
Every writer I've ever known uses their craft to expel demons they tend to grapple with. Bleeding on the page. Bloody writing.
Most have stories they've written and put in a drawer, maybe only to be seen by a few faces - if only to share their methods of exorcism. Most, but not all, of these stories will never see light again.
I touched on that in high school for a bit - I had reams of poetry filled with angst and heartbreak that were for me and only read by me to get the shadows out of my head.
I'd never written a story that I thought would be placed into cold storage until recently.
I'm bloody up to my elbows on this one.
Did I mention I love metaphors?
So today, you go do what you do best to make you feel happy. Go play with the kids. Go put on a pair of red high heels and dance the blues. Throw Muddy Water on the cd player or scream the lyrics to Public Enemy.
Me? I've got more blood to spill.
posted by Bob at 12/07/2008
4 Comments:
We're like a twisted Captain Morgan commercial!!!
"there's a little blood in all of us"
somehow, I'm guessing a band-aid won't cut it? How about a mop?
- kelli... sure does. Also reminds me of Clive... "we're all books of blood. whenever we're opened, we're read."
- graveyardwalker... ohh so much. =)
- rebelleink... Band-Aids don't seem to be working for me, though it's not for trying, apparently. You may be right... a mop might be the ticket. =)
All that blood ... if I only had fangs.
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