Jun. 20th, 2010

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"I hate it when you lie to me," she said simply.

"I didn't lie, Liz! For God's sake!"

"Sometimes people lie just by being quiet."

"I was going to tell you anyway," he said. "I was only trying to find my way to it."

But was that true? Was it really? He didn't know. It was weird shit, crazy shit, but that wasn't the reason he might have lied by silence. He had felt the urge to be silent the way a man who has observed blood in his stool or felt a lump in his groin might feel the urge to be silent. Silence in such cases is irrational...but fear is also irrational.

And there was something else: he was a writer, an imaginer. He has never met one--including himself--who has more than the vaguest idea of why he or she did anything. He sometimes believed that the compulsion to make fiction was no more than a bulwark against confusion, maybe even insanity. It was a desperate imposition of order by people able to find that precious stuff only in their minds...never in their hearts.

Inside him, a voice whispered for the first time: Who are you when you write, Thad? Who are you then?

And for that voice, he had no answer.

--Stephen King
"The Dark Half"

Just a little quote I wanted to share, along with this question for my writerly friends: Do you find that when you're depressed, your characters, your stories, go away? I don't just mean the lack of inspiration and motivation to actually write them, I mean the part of the characters, the people, that live in your head. Are they gone, or silent, when things build up in your head to a point?

I know sometimes my guys won't shut up so that there are five or six different scenarios/story arcs going on at the exact same time, things I can hear and see (in my head, not physically). But sometimes, even when I need them and call to them, they're...blocked? They can't get to me, or I can't reach them, through the tangled mess that is everything else. I know there are different levels of writer's block...the type under which you still write, but think everything you write is shit. The type where you know what you want to write, know what happens in the story, but simply cannot get started, and there's the type where no one, no characters/people/stories is coming. They're either not doing anything, or they're not there. I'm having trouble saying what I mean, I guess, but to those of you that write, I get the feeling you'll already know what I mean.

So. What do you guys think?
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  • 11:35 Got a bit sunburned yesterday ):
  • 12:00 I wonder if you can take a pig on an airplane.
  • 12:10 I hate having to search through an actual book for a quote I heard in the audio version. WHERE IS IT??
  • 12:45 Going to Davenport to look for a different (non-too short) computer chair. Hopefully will find something that'll work with this desk.
  • 13:41 Wtf, why are ALL the wal-marts BROWN now?? i miss blue and grey ):
  • 14:01 Found a great chair that we didn't even know was amazingly on sale--so I got Dustin one too. Happy Father's Day/Chair Day.
  • 14:21 Quit your whining crybaby... twitpic.com/1yj1y1
  • 16:13 substitution, mass confusion; clouds inside your head
  • 18:17 <-- has moar tea vodka. just one drink for now.
  • 19:57 Dustin drilled into his finger. MEN.
  • 21:10 Sorry to those of you I was talking to online but I just managed to spiill a whole drink into my laptop SOOO we will be talking laters
  • 21:15 Dustin says my penance for dropping my drink is a shot.
  • 21:16 Kay, I had a shot. It wasn't bad at all. NOM TEA VODKA. Oh dear.
  • 21:17 Okay, now to watch M*A*S*H with @dusted1.
  • 22:59 Dustin: "My mood is light and fluffy."
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