It finally happened. I came up with a new short story idea. I did not actually come up with it – it came to me in a dream, as usual.
The dream was one of the wildest ones. In the first part of the dream, I talked to the characters I had written through the TV. Somehow, they realized I was their Creator and contacted me to learn about their world. I tried to explain to them how time functions in my world and how it does in theirs. I explained to them that one revolution of the Moon around the Sun is 24 hours (I know this is factually incorrect), and then I realized that I gave them two moons, so none of us had any idea how to calculate time in their world.
But it is the second part that is to become my next short story. It will also be the first story whose writing process I will share in this blog.
So, in the second part of the dream, I entered the kitchen in the apartment I grew up in. There, I saw my mother cleaning up on the left and a certain person, I will be referring to as O, doing the dishes on the right. O started telling me about their school years. O was taught Literature instead of Physics class at school, and in that class, they had to complete a creative writing assignment for finals. The teacher criticized their story and failed them. But because it was a physics class, now there is an F on their record for physics. Recalling the memory was so traumatic that O lay on cold kitchen tiles to take a break.
O tried to tell me more about themselves, but my mother kept interrupting us. She kept on telling me to gather up the hair. The hairs were everywhere: on the floor, in the sink, on the pipes (there weren’t many things in the kitchen). Whenever I gathered the hair and wanted to keep on having a conversation with O, my mom would barge in and tell me to clean up the hair. But the more she came, the more I cleaned, the more the hair multiplied! Eventually, there were strands of hair tied around the pipes with a nod. I was trying to untangle the nod, and O gave up on telling me about their lives and decided to help me with the hair instead. I woke up.
Most of my creative writing ideas come to me in dreams. I love them because they are so absurd and chaotic that I am sure I would not have been able to come up with them while awake. But this method entails an insecurity: I have no control over my dreams. I have no idea when and if I ever see a dream with an element worth writing about. Worst of all, such dreams never have an ending, but stories do. Stories have to, whether I want it or not: a happy ending, a sad ending, an absurd ending, a bad ending, an open ending – one way or another, there is a last sentence, and there is no way to escape it. And I have NO IDEA what it is going to be. Plus, I need to figure it out while writing and while awake.
This unknown and unfamiliar territory scares me the most about creative writing. Starting is rarely a problem for me (even though I heard from other writers that they struggle with it). I know that I can start somehow and once I reach the end, I can go back and adjust the beginning. Even that paragraph that I wrote about the dream is, in a way, a beginning already. But the ending is the worst. It’s like entering a wild jungle completely naked, with no food or water, not knowing if you can survive and come out alive, not knowing if there is a way out at all. Staying out of the jungle is not an option either. Staying out of the jungle means running away from your fears and staying in your comfort zone. I know for sure that if I stay out of the jungle, no story will be written, the dream will be forgotten, and I will be miserable because I will keep on thinking, “What could have happened if I actually did write that story?”
To calm myself down, I will analyze the story for a while – do some preparatory work to pretend that I am not entering the jungle naked and with no supplies. In my experience, sometimes my provisions work, but sometimes they are completely useless. Still, I am not at a place where I can just bungee jump into the middle of the jungle. Perhaps in the future, but not now. Therefore, the plan is to think about what the story could mean psychologically and how I can put it in writing. For example, I need to take into account that my feelings toward A are more than just friendly, so the fact that my mom kept messing it up is not surprising at all. Also, I think I remember reading a similar story by Julio Cortázar where tiny rabbits kept multiplying. I need to find and read that story to see how a different author handles the same element of magical realism (is my story magical realism? Do I want it to be?).
Now that I have an action plan, I can start working on the story without actually writing it. Writing scares me, so I will postpone it for a while. Plus, I have things I need to write for my university classes. They, naturally, hold a way higher priority! On the one hand, it is sad that I have to put things I want to do aside and do things I rather have to do. On the other hand, something I learned from my Creative Writing class is that creative constraints are known to enhance creativity .
The Danish film director Lars von Trier explores how obstructions and limitations impact our creativity in his documentary film The Five Obstructions. Lars von Trier challenges his favorite director, Jørgen Leth, to recreate Leth’s movie The Perfect Human five times. But each time he gives him a new obstruction. The first obstruction says the movie must be made in Cuba, and the second is that it must be made in a miserable place. Surprisingly, the third obstruction turned out to be the most challenging for Leth – no obstruction. I find this interesting because complete creative freedom is a bigger constraint than a certain limitation. I also postpone my creative writing to a certain time when I have no assignments to complete and have more free time. Honestly, though, whenever I find myself in a period like this, it is even harder to bring myself to write. There are so many options that I cannot choose one.
I am writing this part of the blog while sitting at the University of Oklahoma’s Bizzell Memorial Library (the old wing reminds me of Hogwarts dining hall). My class starts in 24 minutes, and it is in another building. So, I must rush if I want to be there on time. I have only been working on it for about 30 minutes because I had an assignment to submit before that. I had no Wi-Fi at my apartment, so I decided to come here, hoping the environment would make concentrating easier (plus, I despise that place). And it worked. The lack of time and the rush literally forced me to let go of criticism and fear and pushed me toward working faster. Of course, taking this approach too far might have unhealthy outcomes, but it still makes me think about how I can incorporate obstructions into my writing process.
Lala 