The Gorgeous Struggle

Getting there ...

Jake’s story is almost finished. I wrote two thirds of it during my week off last month. Progress since then has been steady, but – to my mind – interminably slow. And, as is usual when fitting my writing into my life instead of the other way around, I’ve found myself struggling to get it done. The latest scene, for instance, has been written three times. The characters have reached a critical point in their relationship, so I want to get it right.

Yesterday, I revamped a few things while the scene played out in my mental cinema. Jake is sure about his feelings. Kim, not so much. Women are complicated. Jake knows that, but he’s willing to wade through the crap to have her. Only the crap is deeper than it looks. I sorta kinda knew that, given my familiarity with her background, but she wasn’t explaining it well enough to convince him. It was better to have her show him, live in his living room, just how torn she is. Enter the other man. Once he showed up, the complications became more apparent, but I was still stymied on how to describe Jake’s perception of Kim’s dilemma. So I followed sage creative advice and took a break.

Alan Parsons has been my musical wallpaper for this story, but while making lunch I threw the Gatsby soundtrack onto the stereo and promptly remembered why I bought the darned thing. It’s awesome! I was cheerfully chopping veggies and singing along with Fergie and Jack White and Lana del Rey—and then Goyte came on. The song is called “Hearts a Mess” and it’s stunning. Weird, but stunning (hear here). I actually stopped to listen when it came on. And something so profound happened that I pulled the disc off the junky little kitchen stereo and ran it down to the big cahuna in the living room. I cranked up the volume, stood between the speakers, closed my eyes, and got it.

Ah! That golden moment when all comes clear! It happens to creative people more often than we think, but it never gets old. The puzzle piece that finally drops into place, the plug that finally fits the socket – I live for those moments, and yesterday’s was momentous. Ironically, it always happens when I’m not looking. I have battled for days with this scene and the minute my back is turned, the answer arrives in a flaming chariot. It’s proof to me that intellect consistently gets in the way of my imagination. One day I’ll learn to act quickly when a plotline gets hopelessly knotted. I’ll leave it in a pile on the bedroom floor and go distract my mind with something trivial. Then my spirit will be free to unravel the mess unhampered by a well-meaning mental analyst.

As for finishing Jake’s story … I’m on it!