No really, I do, and it does. If you've ever gotten a letter from me, you'll understand what I mean. My letters are LONG. I often plug away for an hour or more, going from one topic to the next, recounting every last detail. This is a stubborn compulsion of mine, because I am utterly convinced that, without all that background information, how can anyone fully understand and appreciate the impact of what I have to tell?
It takes every ounce of will to keep a note just a note. To keep the kb count of an e-mail below 50. Sometimes I can do it, and I walk away very proud of myself. Most times, I give in to my natural inclination and end up glued to the computer with my son imploring me for my attention, "Mommy, Mommy..." and me saying, "Okay, just a minute." And that minute turns into several, which lapse into an hour... You get the picture.
I don't write letters very often, anymore. I have a lot of friends and family, and I hated getting stuck at the computer, compulsively vomiting forth every detail of my anecdotes countless times, trying to make each letter unique. Against my moral judgment, I started writing mass e-mails. But no one likes those very much, and I got a few hurt responses. After I joined Blogit and understood how I could make a blog into something other than a boring ol' daily diary, I started a public blog. This is specifically intended to repost some of my less incriminating Blogit blogs for friends and family to read. If they wanted. Without having to plod through five pages of an e-mail. And they could respond. If they wanted. Pressure off, right?
Wrong. My posts are often long-winded, because every story has important backstory and important details that are oh-so-necessary for a reader to attain a full appreciation of the bottom line. I struggle to keep my posts to a manageable length, and I walk away from the computer a happy camper if the word count is under 500 (I'm currently at 345, so I'm doing pretty well). For me, blogging is partly an exercise in being concise. And much like dieting, I still often fall off the wagon and give in to those natural tendencies.
But what I'm wondering is, Why can't I write this effluently when I'm working on a piece of fiction? Okay, it's extremely difficult for me to write a short story less than 5,000 words. It takes a lot of effort. And the more I write, the longer each story gets. My latest reaches about 25,000 words, and had outgrown its original short story status and now wears size Novella jeans. And it's a good story, too. Not a pleasant one, but it's my favorite and the most developed.
But here's the crux. With this disease of verbal diarrhea, why can't I write a whole novel? Why doesn't one pour out of me like a letter or a blog? Why aren't I as compulsive about getting down all those neat ideas I have (at least a dozen) and churning out novel after novel like some people do? Why can't novels be my medium of strength, rather than blogs and boring letters?
I need to excercise that muscle, is what it probably comes down to. I need to retrain my storytelling to flow undammed down the ravines of fiction, rather than overflowing the gulleys of personal experience. There's a lot of energy spilling out of me when I write. It's the same energy that I feel when I create music. I think it can be coaxed to flow as effortlessly through the fictive part of my brain, as well. Can't it?
Unfortunately, just like going to the gym or popping in that Pilates DVD, there's a lot of discipline to be developed, too. Like dieting and maintaining a healthy lifestyle, creating fiction takes work. Blogging is like sitting down and eating a Snickers. And it's all too easy to succomb to temptation and take the path of least resistance.
I better get started on that excercise routine.
Maybe I'll start on Monday. After coffee. After writing a blog.
Oh, and by the way. Don't ever call me unless you've cleared your calendar for the afternoon, or have mastered the art of gently and expediently guiding me through my long-windedness.
Hello. My name is SilverMoon, and I'm a verbaholic.
(742 words, by the way. Could be worse...)
