During class on Tuesday night, I reflected on my inability to write things that are descriptive. I decided that it is because I do not think in images, but in concepts. Por ejemplo, when I think about the tree that grew in front of my parents' house, here is my thought process:
It was taller than our humble abode and a conifer. The pine needles fell all over the driveway and any car that was parked near or under its branches. One day, Dana and I came from home school and found our neighbor chopping branches off our tree. We freaked the fuck out, but my parents were glad that he took matters into his own hands because it had become overgrown and blocked part of the driveway. My sister and I, however, felt that the tree was rendered bald and ugly by the indignity visited upon it. Years after that, my mom noticed that the branches at the crown of the tree looked lame. She asked my dad to call a tree doctor. By the time one of them finally put the call in seven years later, the tree was ridden with some sort of tree disease and past saving. It was chopped down. Now no one can find my house, as my friends used to look for the ginormous evergreen tree as a landmark.
While this is a very nice story, it is not terribly descriptive. Anyway, once I realized that I do not think in images, and images are central to writing that is "literary," I realized that "I am about as literary as a potato sprouting eyes." (Actually, I love that image. Potatoes with "eyes" gross me out and fascinate me.) Without writing images, it is hard to include metaphors in my stories. Seriously, I would not think to include a metaphor if one walked up to me at a cocktail party, introduced itself politely, and then punched me in the face when I did not recognize it. If I was to write a metaphor about the tree, it would be something cheesy like, "The tree was an angel that guarded our house against the darkness of the night that wasn't really all that dark because we faced a busy highway that was brightly illuminated by street lights." No good.
Despite my lack of "literary" credentials, I think I can write well in a few styles. Hence my other new motto is, "This cubic zirconium has many facets." Bwa ha ha ha. Fuck being literary.
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This is the same reason why my blog is boring and I have NEVER been able to write anything creative. I KICK ASS at research papers. but fiction? Terrible. I do not think in metaphors either.
ReplyDeletePerhaps I am a literary dunce, but what you wrote there seems like a really good description to me!
ReplyDeleteOf course, if you visit my own blog, you'll see evidence of a poor grasp of the artful written word. :)
i don't know, the idea of a metaphor walking up to you and punching you in the face at a cocktail party was pretty vivid...and cracks me up. you indeed have quite a gift.
ReplyDeleteHey Kim, the fact that you have the word "Prosaic" in your blog title impresses me enormously. :)
ReplyDeleteTsc, the only way I think in images is when they are totally over the top like that. :) Some people do not find that artful. However, I noticed that those are the same people who like criticizing women for looking old and having fat thighs, so whatevs. Class should be interesting next week, that's for sure.
My in-laws live in a row house that used to have a tree in front that looked like a huge penis and balls. They had it removed and now I can never find their house because it looks like all the other row houses.
ReplyDeleteMelissa - I am so stealing this and writing some weird story about how the tree in front of my house was like a huge penis without balls. Ha ha ha ha. That is so hilarious!
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