Mar. 1st, 2010 12:05 am
plumgirl: (Default)
[personal profile] plumgirl
While I lie here listening to the sounds leaking in from the outside world
I ponder the sense of loss one feels after putting down a diverting book.
Transported away for a few hours at a time to stranger worlds where the choices matter,
It's the coming back to the drudgery of the work/eat/sleep cycle that makes one feel empty.

Writers I think understand something of this feeling; I think those of us who write or create - some, not all - many of us understand the magic of the wriiten word. We feel the draw of a good story. We long something fierce for the worlds we create. Or we are wrestling with ourselves.

Posted via Journaler.

on 2010-03-01 07:05 am (UTC)
ext_51796: (butterflies)
Posted by [identity profile]
Very poetic.

(Yeah, I'm also awake.) ;-D

on 2010-03-01 07:22 am (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile]
Out of sheer curiosity, what books are you reading? :)

on 2010-03-02 04:38 am (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile]
here here. :)
I think it is at least partly an escapist thing. It seems like creative people often struggle with coping with reality to some degree. When it comes to writing, I know I definitely invent worlds/situations where I intend for the reader to become emotionally invested. I build my stories with the intention of making the reader care about what's going on; inviting them in. Not all people are comfortable with this or understand it, but I think to a certain degree someone who has a passion for writing kind of always has the desire to write for other writers/artists. It's a connection thing.
That being said, when I finish a good book (most often like the kind I would write myself,) I do feel a sense of sorrow that the journey is over. But I feel that's the sign of a successful artist; one that brings you into their world on that intimate level. :)

on 2010-03-09 05:58 am (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile]
wow, now i want to read bigfootbeliever's writings. :)

but yeah. in a word, i guess cynics could call it "escapism". people like us, i think we are what the jesuits call "in the world but not of it"--and that's why we read and write the way we do.

it's funny, several days ago i rushed through a novel a friend gave me--sort of the entire lifetime of a woman, historical/biblical setting, and the "stories" passed on to her about her female relatives before she was born. when i finished the novel (the protagonist died at the end, naturally), i cried a bit. it's funny/amusing and funny/strange at the same time, but it felt oddly good to cry. :)

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