In Which Soaring Soprano Has Been...

... moody.

I can't really explain why I've been moody... or rather, I can't fully explain why, partially because I don't think it's something that can be articulated... or at least, not by me. But, I suppose that since this is a blog, and therefore a space in which to write random thoughts and try to hash out how my psyche works, I should probably make an attempt.

Honestly, it all has to do with writing... or at least, the way I write.

I'm an... emotional writer. This may sound crazy, but when I'm writing a character, I almost become the character. I see what they see, think what they think, feel what they feel. It's to the point that my poor Husband never knows what to find when he walks into our study. Sometimes I wonder if he thinks I've lost my mind, what with all the times he's found me weeping over the keyboard, or shouting unintelligible things at no one in particular, or bursting out laughing at a conversation taking place in my head. Really, I'm surprised he hasn't committed me yet...

But anyway, to get back on track...

I hardly ever think of my stories in terms of 'scenes.' Rather, a certain character will get me emoting, and the emotions simmer and build up pressure until I sit down to write. During the simmering process I may try to sound the depths of the emotion, seek out an image or a line of dialogue that seems to fit in with what I'm feeling. Sometimes I uncover a lot of information, sometimes I get almost nothing at all.

For instance, I just wrote a short vignette about Han Solo dying. I didn't intend on it being a piece about Han dying. To start out I only had a feeling- melancholy, in this instance- and the image of Jaina Solo standing out on a porch watching the sunset, her hands wrapped around a mug of hot coffee. In my mind's eye, her posture is upright but there's a slope to her shoulders that suggests sorrow. And her hands are gripping the steaming mug like it's her only lifeline. "Ah," I say. "Something huge is troubling her, but it's not her emotion I'm feeling. It's not quite that poignant. And I can see her as if I'm watching her."

At that point, I put my fingers to the keyboard and took a deep breath. I didn't know what was going to happen or  even who I was, but I knew I was going to find out. And so, I began to write.

He found her out on the balcony, away from the bustle inside, a cup of caf cradled in her hands as she stared out at the sunset. He didn't say anything as he approached, knowing that she wouldn't want him to.

Okay, so I realised I'm a guy, and there's a crowd of people around that she's trying to get away from... why?  A few lines later I find out the people are there to offer condolences on Han's death, which is why my character is there. But he's also a good friend of the family, which is why he's taking the trouble to see if Jaina's okay, which she's not:

"Sometimes I still expect him to be there... bickering with Mom in the kitchen, playing with Amelia, sitting in the cockpit of the Falcon... Sometimes I think that if I just listen heard enough, I'll still be able to hear his voice." She shivered, and more tears slipped from beneath her eyelids.

"He wasn't supposed to die. The famous Solo luck was supposed to make him invincible," she rambled, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Kriff those blasted Imperials!" she sobbed, her knuckles white as she gripped the mug tightly.

And it's not until a few lines later that I find out who I even am.

"Shh," he said, pulling the mug from her grasp and setting it down. He wrapped his arms around her, and she buried her face in his robes, crying quietly. He rubbed her back gently and she sighed.

"I'm going to miss him, Kyp," she whispered.

Yay! Score! I have a name! And then I write a few more paragraphs and the piece is complete!

Easy, right?

Nope. Not when the images don't come, and all you've got is this very displaced, very strong emotion, and you know who it belongs to, and you don't know why it belongs to them. Then the words and images finally start coming, but they come in drips and drabs and things don't line up just so, so it gets annoying and frustrating on top of the emotional storm you're already feeling.

And that's what has been making me moody... my inability to get these feelings out of my head properly. The story is nearly finished, but the ending is just evading me. Ugh. But it'll come, and I've got to try to keep working on other things... it's too tempting to just focus on one piece when stuff like this happens, which is just bad because then I get so fed up and grouchy.

Yeah, not good.

But I'm working on it. The fact that I'm blogging instead of banging my head against a wall is proof of my efforts. ;)

And that's all for today!

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For those who are interested, the full version of the Han Solo piece can be found here: Random Drabbles. It's on the second page, about half way down. It's marked 'Week Seven.'