From the 09/06/2007 post: "The sometimes intentional lonesomeness of writing . . ."
The isolation of writing is often declared to be both a blessing and a curse. Sometimes even a necessary evil. Sometimes a celebratory collusion of computer and writer and Holy Spirit.
Over time, though, dedication to the task or joy of writing can produce a particular kind of lonesomeness. If there are no other writers in your environment, be it in a room at home or a chair and table at the local coffee bar, writing can be a place of alone time. Let’s face it, it has to be. Some people write to head banging music, opera, contemporary Christian, or Celtic strains. Others can write with the TV in the background, the kids crying in another room, or who-knows-what. Personally, I’m easily distracted—especially if the writing well pump is in need of repairs.
Ultimately, there is a place where a writer dwells that renders lonesomeness. Not necessarily as he writes because there are characters to keep him engaged and active and anything but alone. I think it’s after the character comes to an end in a story—at least for a while unless he’s waiting for the series to continue. Once “The End” is clear on the page, that lonesomeness begins to work its way into the psyche and somehow makes us feel like we’ve left behind a real friend. And now . . . we’re alone.
As I understand it—and I don’t frequently “get it”—in today’s (and perhaps yesterday’s) world of publishing, most authors discuss the plots of future book projects with the powers that be at their contracted houses. Authors are sometimes given suggestions or asked if they can write a story about such and such. Some of the well known and well sold authors gather together to brainstorm “plots” and ideas for their future books, able to thrive on others’ inputs, thoughts, and creativity. Books evolve from their time spent together in working fellowship.
As I sit here at my computer and type words on the screen in a story, I am not one bit lonesome. I welcome the time spent with invisible people, searching vocabulary, participating in dialogue, even crying at times. It is a focused time, and it is unbeatable. It’s where God has me, where He gives me situations and stories and sounds, smells, and scenes, and I know it’s Him because my mind is taken along on the journey to places I’d never know to go. No writer would choose to leave this solitary place for long.
But when the words come slow—if at all—and the room/place feels still, a writer might realize the lonesome solitude of creating with words. While we know the Lord is with us, He, too, can remain quiet, insisting we trust him for the next phrase, metaphor, chapter heading. Maybe it is precisely at those self-induced times of intentional lonesomeness that our actual “company” is most accentuated. Our unseen Lord in all His power and certainly not without His glory remains present wherever we are, whatever we’re doing. Sometimes we forget that. And in turn we forget to call on Him or acknowledge Him or be grateful for His presence, silent or not.
I often forget that He knows what I need. When I am fighting melancholy, sick of myself, leaning toward worthlessness and failure, He is there to reason with me. To speak the words which will touch my soul and elevate me to where He is, giving me time to forget who I am and lose myself in Him.
The sometimes intentional lonesomeness of writing is a gift writers give themselves when the words are flowing, and the current of writing runs strong and sparks. The sometimes intentional lonesomeness of writing is a gift our Lord gives us to exercise the talent He’s planted in us. Either way, we aren’t really alone—not totally. The Creator of the Universe just happens to be there, no matter how we feel.
Father, I need only remind myself how you are always with me. I just need to talk with you, come clean in my difficulties because you know them anyway. Your heart desires to give comfort, and oftentimes I need it even when I don’t realize it. Thank you that you always know what I need. Thank you for being so close. Help me always. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
