My plans for today: Go to the farmers’ market, go on a picnic.
Nature’s plans for today: Rain my brains out.
Ah, well–Such is life.
MASharing is nice.
Following is friendly.
Not photographS–that’s for another day. Today, I’m talking about the act of, the habit of (not to say “the obsession with”) taking snappies.
With digital cameras, you aren’t edged into caution by the costs of film and developing; you can snap anything that takes your fancy. And that’s where photography–the gerund “taking pictures”–becomes an important tool for a writer or a writer-in-training.
You find you start noticing things that would have melted into the background. I took this picture the other evening. If I hadn’t formed the habit of carrying my camera and snapping pictures of things, my eye would have slid over it. As it is, I saw it–I saw it. I considered it. I weighed it in my mind. I saw a certain niftiness in it and I preserved it.
When I got home, I put it on my computer and considered it again. This is not the picture I snapped; this is a cropped version. Once I saw it on the screen, I had the chance to decide how to crop it so it was clear what I thought was nifty in that shot. I could eliminate the stuff that I thought detracted from what interested me and leave in what I felt made a nice frame or contrast to it. You may disagree with my choices, but they’re my choices.
It’s a writer’s attitude: The world is your material. Grab pieces of it like a pack-rat. Bring the pieces home and explore them and contemplate them. Use them. Enjoy them.
writing prompt: Even if you don’t have a camera, walk through the world as if you could snap shots of it. What would you snap? That motorcycle? How would you describe it in a story? Would you ever need to describe a motorcycle so that the description mattered?Sharing is nice.
I’ve been asked how much time a day I spend writing. If you write, you know that’s a trick question. If you want to know how much time I spend sitting down, deliberately doing writery things, the answer varies from day to day. More properly, I write 24/7. I went to an outdoor concert last night (more about this at the WEBLAHG, my personal blog), and saw that one of the walkway/staircases–the one farther from the stage–was blocked with movable fencing in a brilliant white.
So I’m like, “Someone seen entering vanishes. Easy to come in, wander over to fencing under cover of these overhanging bushes, get out there. Child? Adult? Kidnapping? Establishing a false alibi?”
I was looking at the people, listening to how they behave toward one another, how they sound, how they dress, why they seemed to be there–to listen to the music? to air out the kids?
The houses around the venue, the different kinds of boats, the different kinds of cars and motorcycles, the different food smells from the nearby restaurants, the logos on the folding chairs people brought…. It’s all material. It’s all writing.
Everything is writing.
writing prompt: PAY ATTENTION!Sharing is nice.
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