tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post6298965141665823210..comments2023-10-03T11:41:21.191+01:00Comments on The Truth About Lies: Writers and intuition (part one)Jim Murdochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786388638146471193noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-45984220738424710732012-07-19T10:17:45.239+01:002012-07-19T10:17:45.239+01:00I suppose, Art, that all depends on what he meant ...I suppose, <b>Art</b>, that all depends on what he meant by 'wet'.<br /><br>Jim Murdochhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12786388638146471193noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-77287983688590979492012-07-18T03:12:59.295+01:002012-07-18T03:12:59.295+01:00As Alan Watts once said, "The word 'water...As Alan Watts once said, "The word 'water' can't get you wet."Art Durkeehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07463180236975988432noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-68788436481866447742012-07-16T13:43:34.163+01:002012-07-16T13:43:34.163+01:00For me, Kirk, intuition is just one of the tools I...For me, <b>Kirk</b>, intuition is just one of the tools I have at my disposal. It leads me in certain directions but that’s all. I need to use all my other skills to make my way once I’m pointing in the right direction. And that’s fine. Intuition is like an outline, like grabbing my pencil and making a handful of seemingly arbitrary marks on a sheet of paper (because nothing creative is every completely arbitrary) and then looking at it an thinking: <i>Hmm, I wonder what I could make of that? It looks a bit like a face. If I just drawn a line there, and there and… What do you know! It was a face.</i> I feel the same about inspiration. Inspiration tosses good ideas at us but it doesn’t do anything with them. That’s not its function. It pitches; we do the hitting. Or missing. And you’re right when you say that we never turn off our intuition. It can jump to attention at any point in our writing and say, “No, not that way. <i>This</i> way.” That’s why I spend so much time editing, grafting good ideas in where I can, ideas that I wish I’d had when I wrote that first draft but does it really matter when they come as long as they do?<br /><br>Jim Murdochhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12786388638146471193noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-52902491401451931862012-07-15T21:19:32.233+01:002012-07-15T21:19:32.233+01:00I think too many writers on the Internet try to ge...I think too many writers on the Internet try to get by on intuition alone. Or, to put it this way, they confuse that first draft with intuition. But why can't the second, third, or fourth draft be similarly intuitive? Why can't the editing, the re-reading what you've written, be intuitive?<br /><br />Want to write by intuition alone? Then go to some antique store and buy yourself a manuel typrewriter. True, it's a pain in the ass if you want to change something, what with having to pull out the damn piece of paper and start all over again. But, if your writing is all based on intuition, why SHOULD you want to change anything?<br /><br />Word processors and computers, with their ease of rewriting and editing, frees us from relying soley on intuition. At least the limited view of intuition that so many of us seem to have.Kirkhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02155991693956178030noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-54511775954460230912012-07-15T11:34:48.219+01:002012-07-15T11:34:48.219+01:00Actually, Tim, my poetry is my most spontaneous wr...Actually, <b>Tim</b>, my poetry <i>is</i> my most spontaneous writing. Often poems appear almost fully formed and all I need do is arrange them on the page. They are my least thought about writing. The prose gets read and reread and edited and read again then pruned to within an inch of its life. Not so the poetry. I am a bit protective of the purity of my poetry. I fully accept that more people will read my prose but I still think of my prose as that something-else-I-do-when-I’m-not-writing-poetry. If I never wrote another word of fictional prose it wouldn’t bother me as long as the poetry never dried up. When a long prose project keeps me tied up for years I’m always conscious that the creative energies that I’m focusing on prose are distracting me from the poetry and that is something I regret. <br /><br />And, <b>Ken</b>. <i>Overly</i>-self-effacing? Not sure what the right degree of self-effacement ought to be. There must be a formula. Glad to see you’re being creative at the moment. I am a great believer in the “pressure cooker” as you call it. The temptation always is there to open the lid to see if it’s ready but when is the right time? Since I’ve had a clear head post-aspartame I’ve been writing again but it’s all been poetry which is fine. As I said to Tim above I would be content if I wrote nothing else and yet I can’t help feeling guilty about not at least trying to get back into my next novel mainly because I think it’s something people expect of me; I’m a novelist ergo I should be working on a novel. The thing is I don’t like to call myself a novelist. I prefer the term ‘writer’. Even ‘author’ feels pretentious. <br /><br />I actually wrote this post back in September—I really am taking longer and longer to post these damn things—so the bit about not having started a new project isn’t right but although I have words on paper I don’t really feel that I’ve committed to the thing. I need to let it stew a little longer. This is where I wish I was more of a storyteller. But then the grass is always greener…<br /><br>Jim Murdochhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12786388638146471193noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-80778004385134627192012-07-14T13:25:25.517+01:002012-07-14T13:25:25.517+01:00I like this post. It's beautifully honest whil...I like this post. It's beautifully honest while still being a little overly-self-effacing. It's a pitch I admire and aspire to.<br /><br />I started writing a new theatre play today. It's been bubbling for a long while and I've deliberately put off writing down any words about it to see if the pressure cooker would continue to soften the meat a little more. I think it has. We'll see.Ken Armstronghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07775956557261111127noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-38755203185203900262012-07-14T09:55:58.337+01:002012-07-14T09:55:58.337+01:00No one ever reading my poetry would think of me as...<i>No one ever reading my poetry would think of me as a spontaneous kind of guy</i> - One can fake spontaneity both on the page and in conversation. There's a posh term for it. You pretend that an idea's just come to you, or that you've initially forgotten the technical term for something. It makes you seem humble and inspired. Readers and voters like it. Aporia?Tim Lovehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00578925224900533603noreply@blogger.com