A stream of consciousness exercise where I just wrote for three minutes and then edited for three minutes. Kinda fun.
Epiphany
I’m twelve feet from an epiphany with no shoes and the concrete is s****y hot. Reaching for a muse that continually mocks my ability to deliver something salvageable, something salient, something worth my reader’s precious time.My idea sizzles in front of me just out of reach, and a crowd that has gathered to throw stones instead of seasoning. They watch it cook past over-medium to an unhealthy brown, smiling and wringing their hands in anticipation of failure. I reach for my spatula, an extension of my scribbling hand, and try to flip it before the fullness of its flavor, the center, becomes rubbery to the touch, dry and pasty, inedible. It’s too late, my epiphany, once elegant and pinpoint sharp is now a shriveled piece of pathetic protein not fit for grinding into food for the mongrel pissing on the adjacent fire hydrant. A young woman, in shoes, steps from the crowd and picks it up, holds it too her bosom and tells me how lovely it is. She crusts it in salt, sage, and Cajun spices. She puts my muse on a lavender leash and tells me, “No worries love, we can fix it, but first we need to find you some shoes.”
I must admit, I was a little perplexed by this at first reading, but in taking a second look, and pondering a little deeper, I was able to see through the guise of yourself talking down to your muse…or, the lack of it. I am now able to see this in the context of which it was written. We all suffer through the pains of writer’s block, even to the point where we question our own ability to deliver something worthy of the reader’s precious time. I loved how you interpreted your epiphany as something once “pinpoint sharp” to something as “a shriveled piece of pathetic protein”, not even fit for a dog. Then, along comes a young woman from the crowd. She picks it up and tells you how lovely it really is! Funny, how another’s perspective can intercept our own train of thought. There will always be days like these, when we fail to be as prolific as we wish, or once were. I hope you know by now that you can rely upon this friend to always rally ‘round you and give you a shot, perhaps a double dose, of confidence. No worries, love…we can fix this! ; )
How you pump that mental muscle of yours my friend... Imagination is the source of invention and without doubt these words are tastier than you give them credit........... keep pumping, I'm drooling and true... N
This was very imaginative, Crowley! Street food is an interesting analogy for a story idea in incubation. Sometimes, what seems brilliant as it occurs in an initial flash, turns a pasty, congealed white mess on elaborating. Kind of like a spicy sizzling would be omelette gone wrong! What can be salvaged then, depends on the focus, the ingenuity and the patience of our Muse. But we need to be comfortable first, find our shoes...Enjoyed and appreciated!
How to write like me? Verbal diarrhea, and what Crowley considers to be a piece that's lacking and ends up being lyrical gold.
I'd tell you to f**k off if I wasn't so horrified to get a statue of the King thrown at me.
I don't know whether to be depressed about the fact that you sneeze s**t better than mine or hard by the fact that when I'm all grows up I'll be just like you.
This was an experiemnt and you were brave enough to put it up. Its like Doreen and her Haikus. This shows brass ones homes.
you know.. for a stream of consciousness write, it is very cohesive, with a theme that flows cyclically. wouldn't say it was crappy in the least.. maybe different from your norm, but that is kinda the point right?
i had a creative writing teacher in high school who gave us this "beat poet" writing exercise book. i actually want to look it up again because it was way fun. ANYways, there were all these journaled exercises where you had to do techniques each of the different beats used. the stream of consciousness ones were always my favourite, because you never knew what would be spawned on any given day. course mine weren't nearly as lucid as this LOL
and the ending gave the perfect chuckle *smiles* aces..
I really like this actually. Many, if not most, of my poems are just this. I think it makes them true, unedited thought. I end up reading them and it feels to me like someone else wrote them, since I didn't plan any of it or think it out first. Makes them interesting to try to examine. This shows an amazing grasp of language and emotion. I loved the imagery with all senses engaged.
Interesting exercise. Does sound like a good idea actually. I like the piece. Just thoughts thrown out there. Working life out a bit by not overthinking. Not "crappy" at all. Nicely done.
Like to hang out with other writers and see what's what. Have met a lot of good people on this and other sites through the years. Decided to come back and do a little posting and reading. Hit me up i.. more..