"So what's up with your last post, Teddi?"
Allow me to explain. That's a typical entry into my writers notebook. It's where I just write and write and write, trying to excavate through the mind scum to get to the treasure beneath. My favorite term for it is "mind throw up." (I hope you're not eating while reading this.) I just spew forth the thoughts that swirl around my brain.
"What's the next step? I mean, it's not very good."
You're right. It's not good. That's why it's throw up. But then comes the interesting part of the writing process. I can do three things with this entry:
1. I can decide that it's something I want to pursue. If I do this, then I decide if there's a word, a phrase, an image, or a whole section that I want to explore further. I use that as my "seed idea" and it eventually becomes a polished piece of writing--something to be proud of. For instance, the line about cobblestones might become an entire story set in the 1800's. Or I might write a poem about the grandfather sitting on the porch telling stories and smoking his pipe.
2. I can leave this entry in my notebook and write about something entirely different. But this idea sits and composts. And in a few weeks, months, or even years later, when I reread it, I suddenly see the diamond hiding underneath the lackluster words and I return to option #1.
3. I can never again use this entry. It just sits, a record to the way my mind works.
Regardless of what I do with the entry, the time I spent writing gave me an escape. It allowed me to enter another place and time. It's the cheapest kind of therapy there is.
