I’m deathly afraid of heights. Going out on the observation platform on the Space Needle in Seattle, I have to plaster myself to the back wall of the central structure and dig my fingernails into the wall when the wind blows. At the Grand Canyon, I have to stay at least six feet back from the low walls that line the trails; none of this blithe waltzing over to the edge and looking down for me.
So how did I end up on a tightrope?
I’ve discovered that writing is very much like walking a tightrope, placing the feet carefully on the rope itself, hefting a balance beam and making very small corrections to the left or right as necessary. But what, exactly, are we balancing? Continue reading “A Question of Balance”
This is the second part of my piece on subconscious writing. In Part One, I discussed outlining versus what some call “pantsing.” (Kat Brooks explained this to me as “writing by the seat of your pants,” which I believe explains it quite well.) But what happens after you’ve begun whatever it is you’re writing? How does subconscious writing play a part then?
I think one of the things that makes subconscious writing so difficult to explain is the whole “subconscious” part of it. So, please bear with me as I try to explain what I mean.
The other day, I found myself saying “A lot of my writing is very subconscious.” This wasn’t the first time I had said that and wondered if I was unique or if other writers also find themselves writing just as much with their subconscious mind as with their conscious mind. But this time I decided to find out, which I suppose explains the piece you are reading right now.
So, what exactly do I mean when I say that my writing is subconscious? When I tell my wife, she just figures that if I’m writing – wide awake and aware of what I’m doing – I must be conscious of it, and rightly so. “Subconscious writing” makes about as much sense as “subconscious accounting”… doesn’t it? Continue reading “Subconscious of Your Writing Part 1 by Ken La Salle”