I haven’t slept in a week. Actually, that’s not true. I’m lying. Well, not lying, really. Exaggerating. For effect. That’s what we do when we write. We exaggerate, for effect. The truth is: in the last week, I have slept very little. But, “In the last week, I have slept very little,” is not nearly as dramatic as, “I haven’t slept in a week.”
I’m hoping the hallucinations start soon. The hallucinations are welcome in my little house and I’m looking forward to them. My hoping that they start soon already conveyed the fact that I’m looking forward to them. Bad writing, that.
Ugh. I’m tired. Haven’t slept in a week…
Where was I? Hallucinations. Sometimes when we sit down to write a scene, we see it so vividly in our “mind’s eye” and we hear it so clearly in our “mind’s ear” that it is quite akin to hallucination. We know, of course, that it isn’t real. But we act as if it could be, and we write it.
An act of faith.
If we see it and hear it (and smell it and taste it and touch it) and if we find it believable, then perhaps someone who reads what we write will agree to share in this hallucination with us.
When we write, hallucinations are our friends. Hallucinations & Exaggerations. And a strong cup o’ Joe. Cigarettes, for some. A crutch is, after all, just another tool. And we need all the tools we can get.
Maybe I’m not really typing this. Perhaps that is my hallucination, and my blogmates will be angry with me tomorrow, when there’s no new post at The Outfit Collective.
Not to worry. I am definitely typing this. I know that because I just got up and left the computer and went into the bedroom and changed a diaper.
For the last week, I’ve been up to my elbows in baby shit. See? There I go again. Lying. Exaggerating, for effect. I’m not really up to my elbows in baby shit. But my little house is fragrant and I’ve been peed upon many times. And there’s a baby crying in the next room and I can’t think straight and I haven’t slept in a week.
And you know what? I couldn’t be happier.