September 28th, 2009

colour goujun

(no subject)

There is right brain writing and there is left. Left is when I sit at the computer and try to impart some life to the words on the screen, an undertaking made difficult by the screen size, the font size, the font face, and you name it. 'Twas ever thus, BTW, even when I was using Word Perfect. Writing rationally has never been fun.

Right brain writing is when I lie in bed with the walkman and see stories happening on the near side of the music, if you follow; or become the characters and walk around in their flesh and know what they're feeling. And then if the picture is strong enough or internalized enough, I write it out at the computer. I used to do that like breathing, but as with everything else it's apparently a function of hormones and in the last few years I've stopped doing it. I fancy this is why writers drink. It's to get that detached but intimate look into another world, that sureness of feel. (I also believe, without foundation, that people who touch type do this more easily than people who don't. It's hard to Zone when you have to be watching your fingers all the time, but time was I could Zone easily, even two-finger typing. True, I used to do that when I began writing about the time I now go to bed, and finished up a few hours before I now awake. Maybe the sedentary habits of age/ tendency for people to call me at 7 am to come into work have something to do with it as well?)

Or maybe I need an ipod and infinite downloads of 60s Golden Oldies.

(Is lj being trimmensely slow lately or is it just my connection?)
goujun by ayonoi

Satori

Ah hah! Have finally learned to parse inorite as 'i no, rite?' and not 'in or'ite', which I always took to be some British dialect for 'you are absolutely correct.'

Back to considering how much I can have Goujun steal from the end of Hamlet and the dedication to the First Folio without being in your face about it.