A Whole New World on the Horizon...

“Listening is not a reaction, it is a connection,

Listening to a conversation or a story, we don’t so much respond as join in — become part of the action.” 

- Ursula K. Le Guin
 -The Magic of Real Human Conversation

- Here's to seeing you experience the world of Rienspel, 
starting with The Grey Isle Tale!

Ryan P. Freeman 

What Gets You?

What Gets You?

- Persistence & the Writing Muscle -

Usually, I write about writing success or some sort of inspiring quip about writing... usually. But this time, as I'm typing away, I have to be honest. My regular writing times have been flagging a bit. I mean, I'm still writing something just about everyday, but I sense that I'm trying to revert to only writing when the misty-magical muse hits me. I realize instead of this, I ought to be focusing on writing consistently, instead. I really ought to read my own advice and just keep on going...

One of the things I love about my wife, Steph, is that she's a smart cookie. Yeah, I might complain about her, shall we say 'high standards' when it comes to my writing... but all that said, if you stick around long enough, she says just the right stuff I need, often at times I least expect (which makes for keeping me on my toes). In the previous paragraph, I used the phrase 'I ought' quite a bit. It just sort of spilled out. And if you're trusting me, I can assure you I did not just go back and add the phrases in for effect, either.  'I ought' is a dangerous phrase. One of the reasons I like journaling and blogging is because you get to take these little wispy, intangible thoughts out of your inner-dialogue and make them a bit more real. By going from little voices in your head to real words on the page or screen, it can help you to see what you're really thinking, and get it out of you. Once you've got your self-conscience out of the darker corners and into the light, you get to see just what sort of creature you're actually dealing with.

Which brings me back to the phrase, 'I ought'. Like I said, it's a dangerous phrase. The 'I ought' creature is one with ties often linked to fear, guilt, shame, and/or doubt. It's dubious and accusatory - and it's a real buzzkill. When you catch yourself running on fear, guilt, shame, and/or doubt, it means you're drinking from poisoned wells. So when you're creating art as you write, it affects you. 'I ought' is a slippery creature, too. Right now, you may even feel it's subtle claws grasping for your will... because you may be beginning to think I ought not use 'I ought'.

The only way I've found to avoid this existential trap is to jump tracks completely. Just like in Ursula LeGuin's A Wizard of Earthsea, you have to make peace with your own shadow. The only way I've found where someone can successfully jump tracks out of the 'I ought' trap is with George MacDonald's rallying cry from his Unspoken Sermons, "More LIFE!"

What did good ol' George mean?

The idea comes from the notion that we don't die (physically, personally, spiritually, creatively) from death. We die for lack of LIFE. The true goodness and vivacious gusto for what truly motivates and inspires us on a deep personal level (and at an even deeper, light-hearted level) is what we need to dance with and nurture. It's what we need to have our deep, late night conversations with - and IT is what we need to buy another round for. Among many things which humans beings are, one of them is Joy-Chasers. If you've never thought about it, get an idea about what you truly love. What gets you all passionate and waxing poetic about? It's not so much about what you get, but about what gets you.

When it comes, full-circle, back to writing, we find that now our love, passion, creative need ect. is now properly put in it's place. Our drive to write no longer corners us with black-mail, guilt, and fear like some lion prowling outside our door... When our creative Rally Cry really becomes MORE LIFE! our love of writing is transfigured from a devouring monster back into a needy kitty-cat purring in the sunshine on our lap.

What do we/I love? Joy-chase it. And while chasing, write.

thanks for listening,

- Ryan

Wisdom from Author Ursula K Le Guin:

Ursula K Le Guin,

Multi-Award-Winning Recipient for SciFi & Fantasy writes:

    “In the years since I began to write about Earthsea I’ve changed, of course, and so have the people who read the books. All times are changing times, but ours is one of massive, rapid moral and mental transformation. Archetypes turn into millstones, large simplicities get complicated, chaos becomes elegant, and what everybody knows is true turns out to be what some people used to think.
  
It’s unsettling. For all our delight in the impermanent, the entrancing flicker of electronics, we also long for the unalterable. We cherish the old stories for their changelessness. Arthur dreams eternally in Avalon. Bilbo can go “there and back again,” and “there” is always the beloved familiar Shire. Don Quixote sets out forever to kill a windmill...
  
We may turn to fantasy seeking stability, ancient truths, immutable simplicities; but the realms of Once-upon-a-time are unstable, mutable, complex, and as much a part of human history and thought as the nations in our ever-changing atlases. And in daily life or in imagination, we don’t live as our parents or ancestors did. “Enchantment alters with age, and with the age. We know a dozen different Arthurs now, all of them true. The Shire changed irrevocably even in Bilbo’s lifetime. Don Quixote went riding out to Argentina and met Jorge Luis Borges there.”
  
To this I would add: As the virtual world of electronic communication becomes the world many of us inhabit all the time, in turning to imaginative literature we may not be seeking mere reassurance nor be impelled by mere nostalgia. To enter with heart and mind into the world of the imagination may be to head deliberately and directly toward, or back toward, engagement with the real world.
  
In one of T.S. Elliot’s poems a bird sings, “Mankind cannot bear very much reality.” I’ve always thought that bird was mistaken, or was talking only about some people. I find it amazing how much of the real world most of us can endure. Not only endure, but need, desire, crave. Reality is life. Where we suffocate is in the half-life of unreality, untruth, imitation, fakery, the almost-true that is not true. To be human is to live both within and beyond the narrow band of what-happens-now, in the vast regions of the past and the possible, the known and the imagined: our real world, our true Now.”

- from the afterword of Tales From Earthsea, by Ursula K Le Guin