writing

Noveling

I have to say that my basic grasp of this novel I’m writing is something like:

WHO IS THIS FINN PERSON AND WHY IS HE HERE I DON’T UNDERSTAND

WHY ARE YOU NARRATING MY NOVEL GO AWAY

HANG ON A SECOND WAIT WHAT

Also, I’m doing a little bit of editing and have discovered that I (apparently subconsciously) made all of my characters have a bordering-unhealthy obsession with hot chocolate. I think my subconscious was trying to tell me something. 

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Inspiration

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I had an idea today for a scene between two of my characters. Unfortunately this idea came to me in the middle of an exam.

Inspiration isn’t something that you wait for. Inspiration does not obey the whims of humanity, true – but if it isn’t calling and you need it, then get up and find it. It’s true that inspiration comes and goes as it please, and it’s true that I like to think of it as a subtle creature on a radar that not everyone easily tunes into. But it is also true that saying you are “waiting for inspiration to strike” is as dangerous as saying “I’ll write a book — one day” or “I’ll be an artist — one day”.

Point being, it won’t happen.

If you were to wait for inspiration, perhaps it would come and perhaps it would not. Perhaps just seeing something triggers a flash of an idea that blossoms into flower, so that you feel the overwhelming urge to sketch or scribble immediately. But if that happens? You were lucky. You were in the right place at the right time. Don’t rely on that. 

When you are having difficulty tuning in to inspiration, there are many things that sometimes help, like honey to attract insects. What does inspiration like? Music, and words, and the natural beauty that lies all around us. Go out, immerse yourself in inspiration up to the neck. Take a journal with you and write and sketch everything you see into oblivion, and see if you can call it inspiration.

Unfortunately for me, when I am struck randomly with inspiration I tend to be otherwise occupied, like I was today. That scene is now sitting on my phone, waiting for me to type it up and (although it’s out of chronology) put it into my document. 

That makes me happy. Writing makes me happy. Being inspired makes me happy. But I did that. I got here. I decided that I wanted to be a writer, that I wanted to write, that I wanted to be inspired.

You decide. Don’t let your happiness be dependent on something so fickle and flighty as inspiration.

Me.

Me.
Who is Me? Arguably, I am Me. But you are You, aren’t you? And you would say, “I am Me.” So who is Me?
This Me answers to Tori, in general. There are other names, of course, from my meandering around the Internet and/or meeting people with name-giving tendencies – Persephone, BookFanatic, Ivy or wildfirepen, to name a few – but in the long run, my sense of identity is not defined by my names. Rather, my names are defined by my sense of identity. Every name I own, I have given to myself, or chosen to accept, which is unusual but true. So each name I have means something different to me. Some are more important than others.
I like books. Strike that, I love books. I love to read, and I love to write. I love art of most kinds, and I employ the oft-touted ‘lowest form of wit’ on a regular basis. I like psychology. I like philosophy. I like photography. I like things to be grammatically correct. I like to be alone. I like to talk.
But do any of these things define me? I am more even than the sum of my experiences.
I need to write. I need to write about things other than my novels and my stories, to throw my words into elegant and not-so-elegant sentences and put them somewhere that millions of people can see.
Not that they will. But the point is still valid.
So here I am, fumbling along the road of life like everybody else is.
Welcome to my world.

PHILOSOPHISING OVER THANK TESLA.

Okay. So if you skipped all that and are now wondering who the heck I am, hi. My name is Tori. I live in the UK. I write novels, mostly about faeries. This blog will detail my writing adventures, my reading explorations, my crazy life in general and whatever else I feel like talking about.

Oh, and I have a poetry blog. Read it.