Silvercatcher

Sept 20, 2009

Posted by Madeline on Sep 20 2009

Reading: The Sound and the Fury

There is something indescribably exciting about a book that makes my head hurt. For me, I get this giddy sort of feeling in my stomach when I come across a line- something that rises up into my throat and makes me look up from the page with a feeling of wonder. [I think I looked up after almost every single line in the Grapes of Wrath for that very same reason]. I love when pieces fall into place, when I see an everyday occurrence in an entirely new light, when a line of absolute poetry sums up my feelings in less than ten words. I love reading for this reason- I love writing for this reason.

I read an article the other day about inspiration in writing, and how, when a writer just plows on even when they aren’t feeling inspired, they sometimes write their best work. That’s interesting to me. When I run out of time to write, I lose inspiration, and then it’s a vicious circle in which I can’t get back into the habit. To plow on seems so…dull though, don’t you think? It seems as though I might never write anything worthwhile if I’m not in a place where my heart literally yearns for a Word page.

I’m writing this because that’s exactly how I feel today. I’m writing a book that’s already thirty pages over my average, and I still can’t entirely see the end. Sava pulls me, he’s in my thoughts, he’s in my heart and mind and soul, and yet…he’s not on the page. It’s impossible that someone might pull me so much, and yet I can’t let him out. So I said last week that I have to plow on- plow on through school and family and friends and drama and other interesting characters. I might not have to devote my life to Sava, but sometimes it certainly feels that way. But maybe today, even if I give him one more page of his story, I might find my inspiration again.

Thought:

“Once in the capital, would she find that she did not exist solely to bear the burden of being Refev’s daughter? Maybe she would instead find that she carried another burden that was just as weighty, but with the possibility of doing some good.

“Did you ever know,” she breathed to her mother’s gravestone, “that maybe this should have been you?”“

–Chapter Four of the Silvercatcher