Young Writers Society

Hey, everyone!

So. I think it's a 100% certainty that every writer here is juggling multiple projects -- and we can't help it. The ideas always seem to be flying at us, and it's not as if we could sew them all into one great big cloth of a project; some of them are, like, destined to become a separate entity of their own. And it happens like that again and again.

But that isn't where my question lies. My question is circumscribed to the evolution of these ideas.

For me, it happens in two ways, though beginning at the same root: an almost spiritual, supernatural sort of inspiration.

The division happens with how accurately I capture and preserve this idea, because it happens in a way...a certain kind of way in my head. Like watching the super-accelerated blossoming of a flower on video.

Sometimes, I can sketch it completely and perfectly. Every petal, the stem. A few leaves.

Others, I can only capture and replicate so much. I'm left with the hues and the shadows of the orchid, instead of it whole.

The difference between these two is that one remains static, unaltering except in the addition of particular things to make it a more realized, gorgeous picture whereas the other is ALWAYS changing. ALWAYS dynamic, a lot of the time for the better.

The question is this: is capturing an idea wholly at the time you've conceived it favorable to grasping it, failing, but having it grow into something maybe just as beautiful?

Is this contrary to your own experiences?

With all writers, I would assume, we come by each form of inspiration at least once. However, I have found that my greatest ideas are often fleeting. A name that I can't remember. I world that I cannot see. A character that I forget. Those are the ideas that force me to scavenge, pull and sift through my mind in an attempt to grasp hold of that idea. The idea will not be that one, perfect image that you saw and lost. It will be something completely different, often better, that you have created from scratch.

When your idea is this perfectly thought out master piece, it often grows difficult to write. You see the end product and have all of the necessary tools, but you cannot find the words. You simply do not have the passion to continue. That passion derives from the search of those ethereal ideas.

JohnLocke1 wrote: That passion derives from the search of those ethereal ideas.

Wonderful reply!

Until recently, I'd always preferred the masterpiece. Having it that way seemed to allow for something like a rebirth of inspiration, I guess. Tracking down the flow of thought from that moment of conceit made for a way to revisit that same passion one gets from an epiphany or illumination.

Now, however, I'm facing what you've described.
I'm even gladder that you've shared because of it. Thank you!

There is no "right."

Every writer is different, and it doesn't really matter which you're faced with so long as you get something down on the page. Most writers speak of a dichotomy in styles— one highly structured, one highly free flowing. Neither one is better than the other. It's simply a case of what gets you writing, and what gets you excited to start the story.

Even if you conceive a masterpiece, you'll still be editing it a dozen times. No doubt about it. Writers rewrite. That's simply what a writer does. You need to get words on a page and have something to start from, and that something will be bad. Professional published authors start off with bad first drafts; therefore, you will most certainly start off with one.

Whatever method you end up settling on to get those words on the page is irrelevant. Just get them down so you can get editing.

The question is this: is capturing an idea wholly at the time you've conceived it favorable to grasping it, failing, but having it grow into something maybe just as beautiful?

Is this contrary to your own experiences?

Completely contrary. I never fail! =D

I don't think art is a matter of trying and failing and trying again. What you're trying to do is create and the only way to fail is to... well... not do anything. Or to give up.

I never capture an idea wholly because that would be boring! There's no discovery left. But I never fail either. Everything has a place and a purpose, and if it doesn't turn out the way I wanted then I make it work.