It’s not the story you tell—it’s how you tell the story.
How often have we heard that? Many people say that there are only ten basic plots in all of literature. Or seven. Or twelve. Anyway, we human beings tell the same stories over and over, but we keep reading them because they are told differently.
That’s why when student writers wail that Shakespeare already told “their” story about star-crossed lovers, teachers often respond with slitty eyes and a curt, “Don’t worry about it.”
NEW EYES
What if we added another layer to this dictum? What if the “how” didn’t refer only to the style in which we wrote the story, but also to the state of mind in which we wrote it?
When I was writing Chasing Grace: A Novel of Odd Redemption, I often stopped to work on ghostwriting or book doctor projects in order to keep the roof intact and a steady steam of broccoli and kitty food coming in. I would throw the back of my hand against my forehead and moan that I would much, much rather be working on my novel than doing this writing chore, which was really just the means to an end (the mortgage, broccoli and cat food). Poor me!
ZONE ON THE HORIZON
Then, when I eventually had time to work on the novel, I would often get crabby. I’d wish I had some clear, straightforward writing project in which I knew what I was doing, instead of this morass of possible story arcs, errant characters, and mystifying plot points (or lack of them).
Finally, I realized that my enjoyment really had less to do with what the project was than with the mental state I brought to the project. Was I in the Zone, or not? Was I focused and giving my full energy, attention and interest to whatever project was on my desk?
It’s not so much about what I write, as about how I write it! I can write happy or a grumbly, appreciative or judgmental, clear or complainy. Zone, or no Zone.
Just food for thought. What do you think?