Mentor my Muse and Please Tell the Jehovah's to Find My Key

Last week began in a very interesting way. First, I locked myself out of the house. Then the Jehovah's Witnesses showed up. Hey, but the weather was great!

And while I did not get a ton of writing work done, I did think about the whole process and came to the realization that writing every day is what breeds more writing. I think so many of us dream of what it would be like to compose on a full-time basis—but I think writers need a little bit of chaos, and we definitely need deadlines. Unless you're Jack Kerouac and can sit and type up a whole book in a matter of weeks, you probably need some external (as well as internal) motivation beyond just saying, "I want to write."

A writer needs a mentor. For some it may be a family member or best friend, for others it might be their favorite author. I found Birdie Jaworski last year, and aside from having a certain amount in common with her, I was also amazed by her writing style and felt myself using her as a mentor to my immature writer self. I don't want to be Birdie, (okay, I do a little) I'm just glad to have found her.

Everyone has a mentor, whether they know it or not. Artists all have someone they emulate, though in the end a true artist finds their own style. It's a must. Musicians emulate the hell out of each other. I would say that every song on the radio is inspired by someone else's music, but you wouldn't know it because the artist went that extra mile to create their own way of singing or playing it. Beethoven was inspired by Mozart, writing variations on many of his works. God, I hate playing variations though, yuck. Old Ludwig did it to learn from his mentor, and in the end, found his own style. But the inspiration was a driving force, which brings us back to why why create, why we write.

We write because we have something to say, and even if it's a cheesy sci-fi novel, or gooey romance, there is a certain amount of intent behind the work. A reader is very aware of the story with no intent. It's empty and leaves them dissatisfied, like a candy bar with no nougat inside. Imagine chomping down on a Mars bar only to have the chocolate crumble under your teeth . . . not cool. We need to figure out the essential point of what we are trying to say in every project we take on, and then build the story around that point. Think layer cake.

So, this week, while I had so much time to think, I pondered chaos and mentors and intent and just exactly what is is I'm trying to say. I'm going to let it drive me around, until good things happen. Cause they will. Oh honey, you know they will.