Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Chapter 19, "Sister Mysteries:" I've Been Here Before and It's All A Dream!
By Claudia Ricci
Here it is, my big blank computer screen. I’ve written maybe 50,000 words of my new book, Sister Mysteries, this past month -- and now, here I am with nada.
I am facing an empty plate. A zero mind.
But I've been here before. This is the kind of thing that happens with Sister Mysteries. I'll be writing along, riding a torrential river of words. The ideas and images and inspiration seem endless, overflowing like Niagara itself. It feels as though there isn't enough time in one day or four lifetimes to get everything down on paper.
And then, poof. With no warning, the river goes Sahara. There is nothing in the bank. There are no crumbs in the bread drawer.
The book feels like it is going belly up. The only consolation is that this has happened so many times before that I’ve lost track.
This time, I’m ready. This time, I am heading into the desert with a backpack. I’ve got provisions enough to wait out the dry spell.
All I need to do is hang on until the next flood hits.
Which could be tomorrow. Or maybe even tonight. I could wake up in the middle of the night writing in my sleep. That happened to me once, I woke up with a story, fully formed, pouring out of me. All I had to do was write it down.
So while I am waiting for inspiration, I have decided to write a chapter as if I were asleep.
It's a bit crazy I know. But no crazier than that ridiculous movie “Inception,” which I tried to watch last night.
In said movie, there are dreams inside dreams inside dreams and none of it makes any sense. (For a great spoof of "Inception" check out this South Park video clip. It's hysterical.)
Still, millions of people watched that dumb movie anyway. Movie critic Roger Eberts (who I used to work with at the Chicago Sun-Times years back) saw fit to give the flick a perfect score, a four out of four. Ayayayay.
Anyway I offer you this chapter of Sister Mysteries which follows, a chapter which kind of poured out of me. Sort of like it was composed in my sleep. Click here to keep reading.