What we really need is not voice recognition technology but thought recognition technology. I can’t write as quickly as I talk, and I certainly can’t talk as quickly as I think. But really, isn’t that what we all want? My deep and moving – dare I say profound? – thoughts captured for posterity?
OK. So maybe not. But I’d certainly like it. As a writer, I’ve created so many stories in my head that have been lost, you’d almost want to cry.
Again, maybe not. Moving along …
Here’s a new think. It may be a bad one and it may be one of those things that starts off as a good idea but peters out as the realisation slowly dawns that … nah, it wasn’t. But here goes …
Beginning with the common notion that you write best what you know best, I’m thinking of writing about writing. It’s not so much because I believe I have any great thoughts to impart but, dammit, it’s what I know.
And I’m thinking of putting it online. So it evolves publicly. (Not that Piddleville is any great Mecca for Internet travellers.) One of the aspects of this that I like is the complete abandonment of structure. No outline. No thematic tonic note to guide it along.
Why? Because it’s easier to capture what you want if you’re not hampered by the logistics of structure, of linear progression. And because my best writing occurs afterward, in the rewriting process. That’s where the organization occurs. That’s where the immutable law that writing consists of throwing out the crap occurs.
So gather ye crapbuds while ye may. And the devil take the hindmost.
(I’ve no idea what the expression is supposed to refer to – a bum fetish, I suppose – but I’ve always wanted to use it. And now I have!)