Wild Mind

In Buddhist meditation the goal is taming the wild mind. We sit quietly, and notice our jumble of thoughts without judging them. We label it "thinking" -- no matter what it is -- let go and try again. Natalie Goldberg, a long time Zen student, called one of her early books on writing "Wild Mind." It doesn't get much better than that for describing the writer's dilemma. On one hand you want crazy uncontrolled thoughts and emotions to spill out onto the page. The wilder the better. But the time comes to stop tossing words and ideas. Structure, architecture and even research are required to create something coherent out of the mess. Art? Fiction? What is it?

Today I was talking to another struggling novelist. He has the best take on creative writing -- that first and foremost it's for us. When an amateur musician sits down to play the piano on the weekend, he or she doesn't think about how to record the music and sell a CD of it; at least not at first. First, you learn to play the piano and practice. Then you might play to relax and unwind. A person can play music or paint just for the pleasure of it, and everyone understands that. Why, then, do amateur weekend novelists feel so obsessed with publishing? I just want to write for my own enjoyment. I want to release this obsession with how and when to publish. It's completely ruining my writing pleasure and the quality of the work itself.

Before I started my friggin' albatross-around-my-neck novel, I used to write for pleasure. Sometimes poems, sometimes "rants" and sometimes just weird blurbs that had no particular purpose. Those were the most fun. I think that's why I like the blog. If I get a wild idea, I can just go off on a tangent. I don't really care who reads it, or if anyone likes it. It's just for "fun."

Back to the novel. Tonight, actually as of 3-6-2008, I'm declaring my novel a pleasure piece. I'm writing for my own amusement and benefit. Scriblerian schmaltz! Oh no, just when I thought I could relax and goof off, I hear the heavy wooden door of "the Cloister of No Return" creak open. Monk Natalie beckons me. She speaks of craft and voice. Enter at your own risk.