Brain Washed

Writing, I think, is not apart from living. Writing is a kind of double living. The writer experiences everything twice. Once in reality and once in that mirror which waits always before or behind. ~Catherine Drinker Bowen, Atlantic, December 1957

I have discovered that the more I write, the more I think like a writer in every situation I find myself in. For example, it is sometimes hard to read books without feeling the urge to edit even the tiniest mistake. And possibly to a fault, I sometimes gauge the quality of books, not by plot or character appeal, but how the manuscript is constructed...much like a composer of music. If it sounds awkward, do the words make any sense?

Another instance of "writer interference" was during a conversation with my husband several days ago. I was telling him about my day while propped up in bed and he stopped me in my tracks, pointing out that I had configured my last sentence as if I were introducing a character instead of just discussing the details surrounding a person that we both knew. I believe my e-mails could possibly sympathize with my husband as well.

I went to a concert with a close friend over the weekend and although I thoroughly enjoyed the music, I found myself focusing more on the song lyrics and how they told the story that the band wished to convey. In soaking the "stories" in, I began having idea after idea for things that I could write...and oddly enough, during the 2 hour show, I sometimes wished that I was at home in front of my computer, purging all of these thoughts. Of course, now that I am home, I cannot remember most of my "bright ideas". Even as I sit here writing this, I am thinking about new ideas for stories...yet it is time for carpool. How is it that we can have such wonderful ideas if we haven't the time to jot them down or remember them an hour later? Hmm...