Why Writing, of All Things?

Three days ago was the National Day on Writing. I'm not entirely sure which nation the national bit referred to, but I decided to participate via Twitter by telling everyone in 140 characters or less why I write. The result:

Because stopping is akin to suffocation, and continuation is my truest expression of joy. #whyiwrite

Now, since 140 characters to describe a lifelong obsession (or passion, whichever implied level of sanity you prefer) leaves very little room for elaboration and I do, after all, have this lovely little blog, I thought I'd put this week's post to good use. :D

About a year ago, I received a tip saying that, if I really wanted to write things that mattered to me, I had to know why I was doing this crazy thing called writing. I pondered that, thinking about what it was about the call to create with words that my heart responded to so readily.

About a week later, I witnessed a conversation between a friend and her friend that amounted to little more than a war with words. Everything they said to each other was designed to hurt, to pierce, to destroy. Being a writer, I love language, using it effectively and with style, bringing new meaning and new perspectives to others. When someone uses a phrase unfamiliar to me; it excites me. When someone places words in an order that makes them sing; it thrills me. Words have such a power for good, because they not only create, but invite the audience to create with them. They are healers, encouragers, inspiration and innovation, full of breath and endless possibilities. When I heard the war, I heard a symphony used for genocide. The tools of life bent on murder. Reeling in the aftermath, I tried to focus my thoughts and emotions, tried to say what I wanted to scream, and ended up writing four paragraphs of poetic prose (poetic voice in the form of prose).

Then I realized that what I had written described why it is that I write:

Nøkken, Stromkarlen, Fossegim, Oh My!

Five or so years ago, I remember reading about various mythological water monsters and coming across one mentioned in passing called a "Neck". No joke. The name struck me as odd, and the book I was reading had infuriatingly little information on the creature, so it awoke my curiosity. I would like to say that I promptly researched everything on Necks and became and expert, but I hadn't the slightest idea how to search for information on it, not only for the very obvious coincidence of its name, but also because I didn't know where these creatures were from. So, I kept the fact of their existence in my head as a quirky bit of knowledge that I could show off to impress people (or make them go away, depending on the people) and did nothing more with it. When I came up with the idea of this series, my mind nearly immediately turned back to the mysterious Necks and I knew that I had to talk about them first.

Oh dear. I'm giggling every time I write the word "Necks". Please bear with me; I find a better name very soon, I promise.

Between now and that first encounter, I have purchased a really, really big book called The Dictionary of Mythology. Everything I have looked for in it I have found, no matter how obscure. So, when I started researching Necks, I went straight to that book, moseyed on over to the "N" section, held my breath, went a bit too far in both directions, and then finally found my water monster. And I quote:

What Are These Series You Speak of?

Before I officially kick off any of the series I mentioned in the last post, I thought I'd make a list of all the series I have going (or will have going in the near future), along with an explanation of what they're about. This post will be updated as new series get added and old ones are completed, and will always be listed first in the Series links in the right-hand column on this page, for easy reference. Without further ado, the series:

Exciting New Things!!!

First off, some housekeeping (mostly for my own sanity): for some odd and inexplicable reason, I cannot publish any changes to the other half of my website because my website software cannot login to the ftp server. This is upsetting because I've not only fixed an embarrassing typo, but I've also made a few things look much prettier. I will, however, have to figure out what's going on and fix it before I can change anything over there. Which means that all updates shall come through here.

Excellent.

We are all very excited. *rolls eyes*

I shall now provide antidote through the proclamation of my plans to self-publish. Yes, yes you did hear me correctly. I am going to self-publish, starting with the project I've been working on in secret for the past two months: a series of short story anthologies called Expected Aberrations! (cue applause) Each anthology will be one, complete journey through five or more stories of entirely different genres. Let your imagination expand. Discover new mysteries, unearth familiar secrets, shudder at the intimately terrifying, and explore all the shininess that unknown worlds have to offer. And get warm fuzzies for helping a writer continue to do what she loves. /plug :)

Then the Hero Did Something Amazingly Epic

Once upon a time, there was a writer who was smack-dab in the middle of writing what she felt was her best story yet when everything ran straight into a wall. She smacked her computer a couple of times, succeeded in breaking her favourite pen when it accidentally hit the wall a little too hard on the backswing, spilled black ink on the carpet, made a huge, ugly blotch in her attempt to scrub out the ink, bashed her knuckles against the desk leg in the process, got rug burn on her elbow while she fell over from the shock of bashing her knuckles, lay on her back, looked up without really seeing anything and burst into tears. Her eye liner had just reached her ears when, lo, an angel appeared before her, bright as the sun and pretty gorgeous besides. The writer sat up, tears forgotten, and tried to wipe the streaks of eye liner from her temples.

“FEAR NOT FOR I BRING A WORD FROM THE LORD!” the angel cried. “HE HAS SEEN THY SUFFERING AND HAS COMMANDED ME TO TELL THEE HOW TO END IT!” He paused, arms held out and face to the sky, waiting for a gasp or other, similar sounds of astonishment.