Breakfast scrambles are really good, aren’t they? You cook upsome eggs, toss in some sausage, cheese, maybe green peppers, some onions and hashbrowns. Whatever’s lying around, whatever you’ve tried before that tasted good, gets thrown in the pan and mixed together. Delicious.
I’ve realized that writing a novel kind of works the same way. You take what you’ve learned from past writing attempts, all your successes in storytelling, your lessons in grammar and pacing, and then you throw in bits and pieces from your own life: Childhood memories, friends, strangers, events and images that left a lasting impression, a random trivia fact you read in a book five years ago. There are so many things I draw from for inspiration and guidance when writing. And I throw them onto the page together and voila! I have a novel.
Of course, breakfast scrambles don’t require revisions. Novels require more drafting and a bit more seasoning, if you will, then a one-and-done meal. But both work by combining disparate elements into a cohesive whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. Both also involve a great deal more improvisation than one might expect. Indeed, for all my planning and forethought, I often find that writing is more chaotic than anything that occurs in the kitchen. Food is much more predictable than words. At least when you’re cooking an egg you know what the end result will be. Stories always surprise.
Better, I suppose, than the other way around.
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Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.
