I am learning so many new things during my epic battle with my Muse.
Firstly, it turns out that I write dialogue not description. That was quite a surprise. It has continued over the last week to amaze me. So I need to go back and add descriptions of what I see in my head when I write the scripts. To do later, because right now I am trying to keep up with the talking. It feels more like dictation than creation.
Secondly, and in relation to firstly, the story is alive. I know other people have said similar things, but I am a little humbled at how this story seems to want to be told. Every time I get stuck, I have written a random piece, and suddenly the solution has emerged, fitting neatly into something I wrote previously without any such intention. Don’t get me wrong – there are a gazillion holes in the plot. It’s more fishing net than rich tapestry. Any yet…it is hanging together by a thread or two.
Ergo thirdly, and most importantly it seems, I really want to read more. This is the frustrating part, which is why it feels most important. I want more exposure to good descriptive writing, but am frustrated in my goal. My shelves are groaning with books which meet the need. Sadly, my eyes do not cooperate.
I may have mentioned that I have limited vision at present due to cataract surgery. Next week I am going to the optician to be measured for glasses so perhaps then the world of reading will be restored. However, I have not been able to read a book easily for a couple of years; the teetering pile of books in the spare bedroom evidence my claim (yes, there is a barrister in the novel!). I invested in an electronic device and can manage a few pages on that, enlarging the type size and squinting in an alarming way. The squint also helps me get a seat on the train. It’s difficult though.
So, blurriness, headaches and vertigo as a result of severely mis-matched depth perception: these are my challenges. In a week they should ease. In a couple of months, when I hope the second eye will be renewed and vision restored, they will be a distant memory. I am lucky.
Blurriness is not much fun. Now when I wake up in the morning I can see the ceiling, the bedside table, Sigoth. It is still a miracle. It still makes me well up a little. It is still unbearably new. I am so happy.
Yesterday, as well as writing for a couple of hours (farewell, NaNoWriMo Curse, for now at least!) I had to take my mother for a check-up at the eye clinic. We saw the same consultant who performed my surgery a few weeks ago. He checked mother’s eyes and decided she needed cataract surgery. She did not understand what he was talking about, of course. I was stumped.
I have experienced this miracle. I can see better in my left eye than I have ever seen in my whole life. Did I mention the miracle thing? Oh, right. Anyway, here was her chance for the same.
On the other hand…
She had dementia, she is nearly 86, and she has a heart condition. General anaesthetic is a risky business for her. She couldn’t manage a local anaesthetic as she wouldn’t understand what was happening or lie still long enough. She can read with her reading glasses and has no complaints about her vision, She is house bound. I could not see the benefit of putting her through weeks of confusing and limited vision when she does not feel restricted.
Was I right? Part of me feels I have denied her the opportunity offered to me. But she isn’t me and she has different requirements.
So for now I am leaving her to a slightly blurry, but comfortable and understood existence while I stride into, literally, a bright new future.
The entrance lobby of that bright new future yesterday included 1919 new words or written-ness, making a total of 27, 481. I am a little scared at how many more I can feel jostling in the wings, half-formed and slightly demonic in appearance. But we never judge a book by its cover.
Strength to your right-side brain!