‘Welcome to the grid,’ said Kevin Flynn in Tron: Legacy, ‘A digital frontier. I tried to picture clusters of information as they moved through the computer. What did they look like? […] I kept dreaming of a world I thought I’d never see. Then, one day, I got in.’
Never did I think the opening lines of a science fiction blockbuster would have such resonance with the process of creating a play.
Most of the time I question why I’m part of so many Facebook groups. The endless postings about topics I was once interested in. But every now and then, a gem turns up. Enter stage left, Hemingway App.
This is one of my most cherished books. It was my father’s book before me and I might, if the future allows, get to pass this onto a tiny human myself. Rather than try and tell you about the insane, chaotic genius of Spike Milligan’s Milliganimals, I’m going to do one better. I’m going to show you.
It’s rare that, upon mentioning a childhood book, everyone has almost the same reaction which goes something along the lines of; ‘I love that book. I read it over and over again.’ Or, ‘The cover fell off that book I read it so many times.’ Or, ‘That book scared the bejezzus out of me, but I loved it.’
#throwbackthursday is a heady slice of nostalgia on the day before the day before the weekend, reliving a time when life was simpler and the future was brighter.
Writing a book is a solitary act. For me, it encapsulates both the beauty and biggest challenge with the art form. Sure, you might have a patient friend, or a writing group you can bounce ideas around with, but the actual writing is down to you.
It requires you to spend inordinate hours alone, usually in silence, putting one word in front of another until you have a sentence. If you’re fortunate, a collection of sentences become a paragraph and, if you’re really lucky, a clutch of paragraphs become a chapter. Cue imaginary high five.
So how do you keep going? I thought I’d share other people’s wise words that motivate me when I’m writing.
