I love tools. Cool, new, shiny tools. Sometimes, I get so excited by the coolness of a tool that I forget what I’m supposed to be using it for. Instead of pounding in nails with that perfectly-balanced framing hammer, I’m swinging it around my head and alternating guttaral war cries with humming the soundtrack of The Last Samurai.
Some would say that words are a writer’s greatest weapon. I would disagree.
In the event of being charged by an angry stegosaurus, a 50-caliber elephant gun would be preferable to standing your ground and attempting to stave off the beast with your impressive vocabulary. (Unless by your loquacity you are able to convince the creature that it is, in fact, extinct.)
Where actual writing is concerned, I would say that words are pretty darn important, but second only to your creativity. The power of your imaginative, oft-misunderstood right brain.
I should probably preface by saying that I am the least-qualified person in the world to be writing this post.
Some of you may or may not know that I was homeschooled all the way from cradle to graduation. If you have any quips about all-day pajamas or taking my sister to the prom, please regurgitate them now and get them out of your system. Thank you.
Homeschooling was a fantastic experience for me in many ways. One of the greatest things I learned was the fine art of teaching myself things.
In any story, the metaphorical “ticking clock” is tool Number One for amping up tension. In real life, a ticking clock of the non-metaphorical variety can help you be a better writer.
Have you ever noticed that our most brilliant moments of creativity come when we are completely unable to do anything about it?
Most often when we are asleep. There you lie in the supine bliss of slumber, snoring and drooling into your Snoopy pillow, when your subconscious comes along with the best idea anyone in the world has ever had, ever. It might be a story, or a song, or a way to solve the global energy crisis with corn syrup and unicorn eyelashes.