Early Mornings and Process in Writing
6:00 AM. Have been up since 5:30, to finish the revision touches on a story that's finally crawling out of its compost, which, amazingly, it seems to drag along with it, like those creatures that, while their bodies grow, drag their house, their shell, with them everywhere they go; until you actually you begin to take seriously what's said about bodies being houses, or house being bodies. At 7000 plus words, the story is a tad longer than I often prefer, so I'm now looking to enjoy (with dread) the process of reducing the number of words to 5000, which is going to mean a lot of deleting and adding, that tendency of prose to gain strength when some of it's limbs are pruned. I know within this jungle of words, the story wriggles.
6:11 AM: What I have been doing since 5:30 is check all the blog updates and the facebook statuses of my writer friends. I feel more productive than if I had focused only on deleting, but now the story is on the desk, on my left, and on the right, Colm Tolbin review beckons.
The highlight of the morning, however, is the music I'm listening to as do (or avoid doing) all this. Lucky Chikuwa and the Z.C.C. Mbungo Stars's "Ishe Madzoro". Thanks to Spotify, we can listen to almost anything with the click of mouse. All my Leonard Dembo is there too, so are the Chimbetus, Soul Brothers, Macheso, and more. I seem to keep coming to the Mbungo stars first, to hear the little drums in the background, to harness the rhythm as I craft my words, but those who know will remember my Z.C.C. days, an period full of rich with stories.
Just as Ralph Ellison sought the blues or jazz in his words, I sometimes work best when I listen to music that takes me back to some of the experiences that populate my art.
6:23 AM: Entering the story now --> VaNgeya, shaking his white-haired head, would say, "Don't remain quiet while she beats you up; cry, bellow if you have to, and run, run to someone, run to my home, come tell me what she's doing to you". He would lean forward and whisper, "You didn't come from that womb of hers, and if she continues to beat you on the head with that pot, tell someone, and in this time of war, ha, ha, ha, they will hang her for it." He always concluded each of our sessions by saying, "Keep these words to yourself...."
6:30: End of this blogging session, to fully face the story...
6:40: Now finally beginning to work on the story; I had to take an extra 10 minutes to profread this blog post.
6:11 AM: What I have been doing since 5:30 is check all the blog updates and the facebook statuses of my writer friends. I feel more productive than if I had focused only on deleting, but now the story is on the desk, on my left, and on the right, Colm Tolbin review beckons.
The highlight of the morning, however, is the music I'm listening to as do (or avoid doing) all this. Lucky Chikuwa and the Z.C.C. Mbungo Stars's "Ishe Madzoro". Thanks to Spotify, we can listen to almost anything with the click of mouse. All my Leonard Dembo is there too, so are the Chimbetus, Soul Brothers, Macheso, and more. I seem to keep coming to the Mbungo stars first, to hear the little drums in the background, to harness the rhythm as I craft my words, but those who know will remember my Z.C.C. days, an period full of rich with stories.
Just as Ralph Ellison sought the blues or jazz in his words, I sometimes work best when I listen to music that takes me back to some of the experiences that populate my art.
6:23 AM: Entering the story now --> VaNgeya, shaking his white-haired head, would say, "Don't remain quiet while she beats you up; cry, bellow if you have to, and run, run to someone, run to my home, come tell me what she's doing to you". He would lean forward and whisper, "You didn't come from that womb of hers, and if she continues to beat you on the head with that pot, tell someone, and in this time of war, ha, ha, ha, they will hang her for it." He always concluded each of our sessions by saying, "Keep these words to yourself...."
6:30: End of this blogging session, to fully face the story...
6:40: Now finally beginning to work on the story; I had to take an extra 10 minutes to profread this blog post.
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