There is a country song by Chris Young that comes to mind every time I think about writing. I like this song, it’s catchy and sometimes I can relate. I think that writing is part dedication part determination and part socially acceptable schizophrenia. As a write, ‘I hear voices’.
"Voices"
You could say I'm a little bit crazy
You could call me insane
Walkin' 'round with all these whispers
Runnin' 'round here in my brain
I just can't help but hear 'em
Man, I can't avoid it
I hear voices
I hear voices like
Call me crazy, or schizophrenic, but for me the need to write starts with the voices in my head. These people, the characters, visit my brain and they tell me things. Sometimes they are more insistent than others. Sometimes they are more revealing of their intentions than others. But they are there. I’ll never forget how ‘Finding Galena’ came to be. This girl, one character, came to me and just told me a little bit. The sunrise, the smell of breakfast, and what she needed to do. She didn’t tell me her name. She didn’t tell me her story. Just that, sunrise and bacon oh and burnt toast. I had to get it down. Just a couple of paragraphs that was more an essay than the start of anything else. I wrote her ‘essay’ and she went away. Then months later she was back. Back with so much more to say. About her older brother (who burned the toast), her dad, and her mom. Her hopes, dreams, plans, and expectations from life. And lastly she gave me her name, Breeanna. And ‘Finding Galena’ was born, and became a Nano novel. And sits, unfinished, on the hard drive.
Every year I try to find the voices in the fall. So that come November I know what I’m starting with for my Nano Novel (http://nanowrimo.org). I never know where it’s going, rarely do I even know what the point is, but I always hear the voices. Not that I only hear them in the fall. I hear them throughout the year. Mostly essays that I turn into blog posts. Or ideas I type out and save for another day when those voices come back. There’s a difference this year. Nano has officially started and I hear no voices. No one talking in my head. No one trying to get me, or anyone, to hear their story. It’s uncomfortable really. Did I ignore too many voices for too long so they left me? Have I run out of stories to tell? The old voices are gone as well right now. The ones I haven’t finished their stories. My mind draws a blank. I can’t hear the voices.
Turns out I'm pretty dang lucky
For all that good advice
Those hard-to-find words of wisdom
Holed up here in my mind
And just when I've lost my way
Or I've got too many choices
I hear voices
I hear voices like
I’ve been very lucky. The voices do the work for me. I just have to fix the typos and grammar I screw up. The voices paint such a picture in my mind. I just have to find the words to make it real to someone else. Right now I desperately miss the voices. They have left me before but they always come back. It’s just, well it’s fall. And I want the voices. Unfortunately I don’t control the voices. They control me. Until then I’ll try to find time to write. Write the ideas that float just out of reach and try to pull them in like a helium filled balloon. No matter what form they take, I’ll try to find the voices. Find the words. Find the voices. And listen to them. And share them.
Yeah, I hear voices all the time
Sometimes I try to ignore 'em
But I thank God for 'em
'Cause they made me who I am
Yeah, I hear voices all the time
Yeah, I hear voices all the time
All the time