Life as Experience, part 2

Good Morning to you,

I left off yesterday with the question where:
a) living in the relatively comfortable and unchallenged life, that we do here in Thailand, +
b) blogging, counting words and writing with reckless abandon as a means of discipline, common sense and creativity =
c) no need for inspiration/real-life experience to write a first novel.

Because what c) basically states is that writer's are always looking for new experiences (preferably the more depressing the better) so they can use it as mulch for their creative writing.

The sheer conviction that Nancy and I have that the series we are writing will be a runaway success rests on several things. One is the novelty of the subject matter applying a real-life setting, mixed in with metaphorical and actual fantastical elements. Two is the format of story-telling, which initially will seem unorthodox, but as the story goes along reveals hidden layers of classic mythological structures, incorporating symbolism from East and West, spiritual and scientific, numerological and mythological. Three is the sheer epic scope we are attempting to capture within a single five-part series and the personal struggle for the characters to grow to meet this challenge.

But all of these would fail if not for the fourth and real reason why I think I can get away with writing, without research, blogging as a tool, plotting big no matter what marketing shows might be profitable. It is sheer and utter associative creativity driven by inspirational frustration. What the heck is that?!? Allow me to dissect.

When I started my first major job at Ericsson in Holland some 15 years ago, I had to do one of those psych-tests (I think they call them aptitude tests now). It appeared that I scored poor on stress resistance and authoritative role-models (big surprise there), but very well on associative intelligence. In the worst case I'm a socially weak paranoid delusional person, but as I got hired anyway it must have meant the opposite: a flexible group-oriented synergetic solution designer. It turned out that was to become my job description (solution designer). I think not only outside the box, but I've always found pride in being able to lay connections between seemingly random patterns and objects and bring them together to a perfect match. The pride stemmed not from the ability to do so, but from the fact that I enjoyed it. I had found my calling in life. Because regardless of the work set out for me within the 'confines' of the job I have to do, I find pleasure in doing it as long as there are patterns to be examined, pieces to be put together, things to be created. And isn't that really what we do ALL the time? Create?

And when people tell me that they like what I've drawn, painted, designed or written and that they could never do that, I refute it. Everyone has limitless sources of creativity to their disposal. They might not be able to recognize it (patterns by association), but it is there, waiting to be utilized. Cooking is mixing and matching ingredients, driving is a focused integration of senses and manipulations of the car, meetings are flows of conversation with subject arrangements and emotional manipulations, cleaning is tool-job matching, with material-cleaner variations, the list goes on and on. Even when one doesn't necessarily enjoy the coming together of random patterns through connecting interfaces, every 'choir' or 'job' can become a game of control, invention and creative visualization. Cooking becomes an experimental lab where shapes, smells and tastes vie for control, driving becomes an interactive maze laid out on the road or a slow dance of grace and rhythm, meetings become tribal meetings, where the fate of the clan depends on attentive decision making and cleaning becomes painting the dirty floor with a mop or vacuum cleaner.

Associative creativity in this case takes the form of a top-down approach to the whole (and I do mean whole) realm of the fantasy fiction. I see connections between Little Red Riding Hood and the Greek Artemis, Jack the Ripper and corporate vampires, Merlin and native American shamans. But it goes further, I draw in the seven sins, Chinese elements lore, global warming and Atlantis. Robin Hood, Ra the sun god, 1001 Arabian Nights and Leonardo daVinci. What do these all have in common? I have a theory. And that's my engine. An intricate organic machine of mental cogwheels and conveyor belts lines with visions, which is my creativity waiting to be unleashed.

So what about the power source then? What fuel drives this engine of Pandoric potential? What cerebral cereal do my Muses munch on while reading the newspaper of my noggin' in the morning before they do their daily dance of seduction and suffering? Inspiration frustration. Too many times I have read books in the past thinking: This was good, but what if...? And have we not all had that, I wonder? What about the other schools in Harry Potter's world? What if there truly was a passageway in New Zealand to Middle-Earth? What if the fairies in Artemis Fowl's world were not the only fantastic creatures hidden on Earth? What if Philip Pullman had written four more books fleshing out what he only hinted at in His Dark Materials? What if Inkheart's creatures streamed out into our world and caused political shifts? What if Twilight also had the other classic monsters (tanned sculptured mummies and Frankenstein's beefcake monster?). No matter how good the book is, I am always baffled by the confines the writer keeps themselves in. It's a 'bottom-up' analysis of one particular mythological concept. Now it's time for a 'top-down' review. My frustration turns to inspiration and the picture is complete.

The sheer potential power of my associative creativity driven by an endless supply of inspirational frustration is why I don't need even more input, even more information. I can't even use writing education or market guidelines. That would be like focusing on the edges of the road, but losing track where you're driving towards. What I do need is a filter in the sense of a blog and word count, which are my navigator and speedometer. But I need to focus on getting there first with a first draft in my hand. This is the expansion phase of the book. So what if it's inconsistent, 10.000 pages overweight and a tangled mess? It will be a block of marble. And then Nancy and I will grab the chisel and chip away the redundant material until the true masterpiece reveals itself.

I would do the same with this blog (which is seriously too heavy now), but that's why this is a free 'mind fart' and the book is not. C.U.