Another series of Holidays survived. The winter Holidays came with some winter weather, relatives, and maybe a dose of borderline personality disorder. The weather had kept Scott indoors adding a touch of cabin fever to the holiday brew. Oh he had a fever alright and the only prescription was some good bud and some laughs with friends. Nothing ordinary would do the job he needed to go see the old Sidewalk Doctor in that dusty old town in Oregon. The old grower had brought back his forgotten classic the "No no". It was named because of the reaction from trying to pass it after a puff or two. The standard for something being called a one hit wonder have been raised. Something is truly good when it still works after smoking extracts all day. THC percentage is not the only contributing factor. The old strain had that pine deep forest smell that brought back some old memories. It might be the creative fuel Scott was looking for. Scott had an overactive imagination and would constantly imagine everything as some kind of scene in a TV show or movie. Having an imagination was one thing but trying to get his imagination into words was a different story. The idea had started with an article he had read wrong in the first place. Not a good start for a writer. He was researching top ways of becoming self employed with very little investment costs. What he thought he read was becoming a writer was something that could be done. Unfortunately he didn't read the entire article otherwise he would have known writing a How To book was what it was actually about. Who knows what the actual steps were to becoming a writer but he could at least embarrass himself trying. He was definitely an expert at embarrassing himself that came natural. Go with what you know is the only real advice he had heard about the subject on some talk show. How hard could it be he thought. Lately it has been true stories and remakes of old ideas. Scott would often come up with his own ideas for sequels or give TV and movie personalities a place in the real world mixed into day dreams. It must be common to imagine oneself in a fictional role like a musician that could bring people to tears with a sad old song. The old Sidewalk Doctor had lost some weight hopefully he wasn't sick. It was always a good visit with a comical light hearted tone with the old grower. It seemed he enjoyed his rebel status like a modern moonshine still operator. The American way is to make as much as possible and pay as little tax as possible. Uncle Sam will still get his one way or another. The old grower was supposedly some bad ass in Vietnam but Scott had not heard any of those stories. If it were something he wanted to talk about Scott would listen. Scott was a patient listener and would often enjoy stories from the past. He wondered how much fiction stemmed from some truth. He had smoked another strain called Tuity Fruity at the old growers place he was saving the No No until he got back home. The rain was supposed to turn into freezing rain and black ice later he was on a mission to get to the safety of home. Once home Scott made something to eat and started watching a movie. One of those movies with a lot of dialog leading to moments of ultra violence. After a couple of puffs of the No No he had temporarily forgot what he was doing, where he was, and why he was there. It turned out he wasn't a secret agent that knew Karate. After about an hour of listening to the first few minutes of songs on a play list he realized he was not accomplishing what he set out to do. It was like a crime scene with junk food wrappers everywhere and whatever mystery powder cheese chips are coated with. It reminded him of the neighbor kid telling him that he was a ware wolf that wouldn't remember anything and wake up with dead cats surrounding him in vacant lots. The same neighbor had drug him along trying to sell used spark plugs and dirt he had sifted with an old window screen in his lawn less yard. Someone eventually felt sorry for him and gave him a couple bucks. Scott wondered about how to bring creative writing to life. Even bad movies like Scream Blackula Scream are fairly well written. Voodoo vampire with a back story. Luckily like everyone else these days he kept his brain electronically stored in his pocket. He could teach himself how to develop characters and come up with stuff they might talk about. Scott was clever and wondered if this could cause him trouble. What if he comes up with a terrorist plot and someone brings it into reality. Who knows why people are influenced by things. Why do crazy people often have certain books? Maybe it was time to go to that mental happy place. Driving five deep in on of the old bubble Honda Accord from the early 80's packed full of ruff looking loggers singing Four Non Blondes song "What's Going On?" with enthusiasm. Maybe videos on the Internet could be useful. If you could use it to fix snowmobile carburetors than surely writing could be broken down into steps. Head first into a shallow pond is probably an effective way to test depth. In these everyone gets a trophy for showing up days how hard could it be. Scott and his imagination were about to lead to another life lesson in stupidity if nothing else.
The Fictional Writer - by Ben Smith - Part 2
Scott had taught himself many crafts in the past but writing was a craft within a craft. He was at the beginning of a long path difficult by anyone's standards. The first step for Scott was always to throw out the rules. He would start in a ruff draft story form. Worrying about fonts, punctuation, and vocabulary would be added throughout the process. The main thing was just to come up with ideas and figure out how to describe a complex reality in an alternate version. A walk into the room full of mirrors finding oneself trapped in the mirror as the alternative version steals the keys and intends to drive it like they stole it.
The runaway imagination taking us to dark and mysterious places. How does one capture the out of body experience in words? Empathetic to the fictional protagonist trials and tribulations Scott was being pulled in. He knew like everything else it was just a hobby. It would take a lifetime to become a master of this complicated craft. To learn any craft is difficult but less of a paradox. A fictional writer might need to become a skilled craftsman to breathe some life into their imaginary cast of characters living in their imaginary world. Usually writing is genre specific but who knows someone could get clever and stretch the rules. Drama with comical aspects or comedy that makes light of otherwise serious matters. To keep from being intimidated by the epic task the ego needs thrown out the window and ran over by traffic a few times. Life is boring without struggle and failure has to become a useful tool rather than a road block. Scott was no stranger to failure and would be willing to risk that old sinking feeling for the slightest chance to succeed.
Success at anything is not a product of chance but a product of calculated risks in Scott's mind at least. Scott wondered if everyone lived in their imagination and who he conversed with must be the most sane representative versions of themselves. Scott's imagination was like the bully looking to put a stick through the spokes of some unsuspecting victims front wheel just to watch the chaos unfold. His representative self was always trying to do what society deems the right thing. His favorite analogy was that of Herman Hesse's "Steppenwolf". The wild beast who made his way to town and took his place on the steps. A life somewhere between the domestic and the wild animal wanting to escape from the protective walled society. Like a lucid dream or transcendental meditation the imagination was sometimes just as real as the reality it reflected.
Scott had some basic plots in mind and would start with the ones he had the most information about. He could start with the aftermath of an event and have the protagonist's narration with a clever slide between first and third person roles. Society is more advanced and the characters in fictional works are becoming more complex. Rooting for the bad guy or gal was usually reserved for horror films but things are not as cut and dry as they once seemed. Scott's imagination has some of it's own ideas it seemed. He could be imagining a scene in a movie and the fictional actors inside his imaginary movie would decide to take a break at an imaginary bar only to decide to go home early that day. He chuckled a little bit at the thought of his imagination having better things to do.