Have you ever began writing a story out, outlining the plot and felt so moved by some latent force--something that's propelling you to write more and everything that's coming out from your mind isn't just pulled out of nowhere..it's a story that you feel has been "given" to you. (trying not to sound too cheesy) But I have just began writing this story, literally just began, and I wrote the first few pages and I felt so bogged down by the heaviness of it, by what the character felt that I had to stop, tears in my eyes, because I feel like this isn't just my story. And I feel that behind a few more doors is the rest of the story and it's waiting for me... Anyone else here feel or have felt this way? Chilling, isn't it?
A bit like my mine, honestly. Though, for me it's much more like being possessed by the story -- it's simply using me to put itself into words.
What I find spooky sometimes is going back over something that I wrote a long time ago and having no memory of writing it. It's especially pleasing when the prose is actually pretty good.
Well, anything we do, think and execute in reality is never ours truly. We are affected by countless outside sources that inspire, or had inspired us in the past. When someone expresses something inspiring, for example, a concept or an idea that is no more than a concept or an idea, you have a door open for you to take a piece of another human's heart and expand it into a tapestry constructed by your hands. By that logic you could say that everything we write is never ours alone, but the collaboration of our sweat and the influence or the origins of another source, whether it be human or even natural - a taleful landscape, say, an odd behavior of an animal which summoned an muse in you. Beside an inherent drive, I personally write to change the world around me, so I guess that my stories are sort of an entity of their own needing me to bring them to life for their importance, but to each their own.
The best stuff always comes this way. The stories I have to force are always the ones I have trouble continuing. The best ones seem to drive themselves, and the creative flow doesn't stop unless I let strangle it by getting hung up on this or that. But when I come back later, it always seems ready to pick up where it left off, if I let it.
