Spinach and Spine

 

Last night I dreamed of Manderlay again...

Well, not really, but same kind of deal: I dreamed I was still married to my ex-wife, and we were still living here with our still living dog.  And while there was some pleasure to be had in this (I sure do miss that dog), I nonetheless woke up with that "what the f---?" feeling, especially as I realized I'd had a similar dream the night before.  Which made no sense to the post-divorce me, considering this is all history by now, I've long ago processed the heartbreak, the healing, I've worked through my feelings about well, almost everything (why the dog, Lord?  why did you take the dog?) until I suddenly realized, of course: it's the fault of this freakin' novel.

I believed I was done with working on it, I really did, but picture me Pacino in Godfather III: just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in!  There's this guy, see, friend of mine, a fledgling producer, and he read the manuscript, likes it a lot, and as we say he sees the movie.  So much so that it's his belief -- literary agents? shmiterary agents! -- that we should go out with the novel to movie people first.  And I understand and support this, since indeed, many a book these days sells film rights first, publishing second.

Fine and good, but of course he had notes -- and wasn't that a surreal, fun little meeting (the kind Scott the reader would appreciate) -- given that giving notes is a lot of what I do for a living these days.  But the long and the short of it is, I agreed with about half of his suggestions, I saw the rewrite, and thus... this is the business we have chosen (now I'm channeling Brando): the novel is up on blocks with the engine out.  And I'm back in the thicket of my "man invents an imaginary lover in an attempt to win back his estranged wife" plot, which means... dreams of what used to be!  As if it were now!

The dreams are one thing.  The challenge of re-immersing oneself in a project one had pronounced finis is another.  How do you get into the flow again?  How do you keep it fresh?  How do you integrate new ideas with old, and for that matter, find new inspiration to fuel the work, as it doesn't come out of a can?

Well, I'm gonna go with that can metaphor for the moment, and say I do like Popeye: I reach for the spinach.  Creativity spinach -- and it comes in a little rectangular box-like thing, available at a store near you.  I'll explain.

A few days ago, trying to wrestle a reluctant chapter into revision submission, exhausted and resorting to harsher threats ("I'm gonna cut you-- I swear!  Look oooout!!!") and nonetheless getting nowhere, I opted to climb on my bike and just pedal the hell out of there.  I know, you're supposed to Stay In The Room, but sometimes you just gotta go.  And where I ended up, after some blissful bike path cruising (how did we live before Nano?) was at Small World Books on the Venice boardwalk, my favorite (support your) local indie bookstore.

Thing I love/hate about Small World is that it's physically/psychically impossible for me to leave there without buying something, and in this case, it practically crawled into my hand.  There amidst the new releases twinkled a shiny bright white paperback by an artist I've always kind of liked, so I picked it up, flipped it open, and read the following on this randomly selected page:

Spine, to put it bluntly, begins with your first strong idea.  You were scratching to come up with an idea, you found one, and through the next stages of creative thinking you nurtured it into the spine of your creation.  The idea is the toehold that gets you started.  The spine is the statement you make to yourself outlining your intentions for the work...

And the writer went on from here, but I was already off and running, in my mind.  Spine!  That's what I've been trying to grasp all morning -- how does that ornery, fighting-back chapter relate to the spine of my story?  And what is that spine?  Now that aspects of the story are changing, and since in a sense, the spine of a story can shift each time you attempt to retell it anew, shouldn't I be trying to redefine my spine?!

 

Which is why I am now the happy owner of The Creative Habit by Twyla Tharp, a book I'd missed in hardcover a few years back, but has recently come out in paper.  Yes, she's a dancer-choreographer, not a novelist or screenwriter, but the topics she explores here -- from rituals of preparation, to acting on accidents, to getting out of ruts and grooves, et al -- are common to any creative process.  And there's a lot in here that speaks directly to the writing game: practical, pragmatic, useful information about how to strengthen, educate and sustain your creativity.

Some writers are snobbish about "how-to" books, pros in specific tending to feel they have no need of such texts, and even many pre-pros, who've had bad experiences with same (don't get me started on Syd Field, okay?  No, really: don't get me started), can be wary about adding another volume to an already over-stuffed shelf.  But for me?

It's spinach.

A book like Tharp's is spinach for the imagination: it's that trusty green vegetable, maybe not the sexiest or most exciting, to say the least, it's more like that uggy stuff Mom forced down my throat when all I wanted was the real goods (e.g. fries and chocolate donuts) that gives you the vitamins and minerals and other fortifiers you need.  But you know, when you get older?  You find out that not only may spinach be good for you, it can really taste good, too.

I'm not saying you need to read the book, by the way.  Hell, no -- peruse a page here and there, underline things that speak to you, skip the stuff that doesn't, start at the back or hopscotch across, do one of the exercises and forget the rest -- good creative spinach, found in a book like this, is simply a stimulant.  It reminds you of what you already know but kind of lost track of, it nudges you to go a little further outside your personal box, it puts you in touch with some tools you haven't been using lately... it works out and builds up the muscles of your imagination.

Tharp is not a dance world giant of say, Merce Cunningham stature, and if you do read whole chapters you have to tolerate a certain level of all-about-me-ism (arguably justified by her three decade-plus successful career).  But I don't care.  I got what I needed out of her book right at the get -- she had me at hello with that one word, spine.

You may find your own muse elsewhere, they're myriad, from Annie Lamott to Strunk & White.  But don't dismiss the how-to-ers out of hand.  Simply dipping into this book -- eating my veggies, so to speak -- gave me the food for thought that's since transformed my writing work, at least for the current week. 

Now, if I could just find the proper food to eat that would fend off these freakin' dreams...

Comments

[binnie]

Funny, I also dreamed that you were still married to your ex-wife...
Seriously, I often have the very confusing "What the...?" dreams about my ex more than I would care to (I always wake up thinking, did that really happen???). So oddly realistic. Twyla's book does make great spinach. So does an ickily-titled self-help book called "Creating Sacred Space With Feng Shui" by Karen Kingston. No, I'm not kidding. I normally can't stand books like this, and feng shui is sort of a moot point when you live in a studio apartment, but the author does talk quite a bit about getting rid of the emotional clutter that keeps you stuck with the thoughts of the person you're trying to no longer think/care about and makes you frozen creatively.
Spine, yeah.

[shecanfilmit]

Interesting post. I've noticed that over the past three or four years, I've stopped buying self-help books, and have instead been buying screenwriting/writing/creative how to books. I always get something out of them, and the best of the bunch have inspired me to take my creative work to a new level. (The last being Blake Snyder's excellent book.)

BTW, I finally ordered your book about writing rom coms, and am going to read it AFTER I'm done with the screenplay I'm currently writing - it's not a rom com. But the next screenplay I'm writing is definitely a rom com.

The book the other person mentions? "Creating Sacred Space..." by Karen Kingston - I think it's one of the best Feng Shui ever written. I read it for the first time about 4 years ago and it inspired a big clean out/rearrangement of my living space. I got rid of a lot of ex-boyfriend stuff I had sitting around. I moved (up) about a year after I first rearranged my stuff, and picked out my current place based on things the book says to look for. People always comment on the positive feel in my apartment.

[jamy]

Last night I had a dream about the part in my hair. Seriously. I have the most banal dreams in the world.

I'd say anything that gives you a new way to look at the writing process would be helpful--if you're open to it.

[JJ]

I use On Writing by Stephen King. Whatever your opinion of his work, he writes well about writing.

I recently used Writing the Romantic Comedy to break a log jam in screenplay.

You're right, though, I don't think of the books I use for inspiration as "How To" books, just dynamite to knock down whatever's holding me back.

And if you get a chance, please do get started on Syd Field.

[mernitman]

Binnie, you are very funny. And I can't believe I have to go to amazon.com and actually write the words "feng shui" in the search box...

...which is partially SheCanFilmIt's fault (hope my book proves good spinach-like when you get to it).

Jamy: Your dream sounds a little early David Lynch to me (Eraserhead II?). BTW, I've started reading your blog archival stuff with interest. Dating spinach? (No -- step away from that metaphor, Mernitman -- keep your hands in sight...)

JJ: Yup, I enjoyed much of the King. As for Mr. Field, I have a don't-knock-the-colleagues policy, at least not in print. Unless they've done something truly heinous. Which means -- No. I am NOT going there!...

[jamy]

I haven't read any dating self-help books--which I guess hasn't stopped me from doling out advice. Not to say that I couldn't use some dating spinach....

I did take a writing class last year--creative nonfiction. I didn't like the class much (read about why here:http://gratefuldating.blogspot.com/2005/05/why-i-hate-my-writing-class.html), but the book we were assigned was great. "On Writing Well" by William Zinsser.

Even though my english major was with a "creative writing emphasis," I don't recall reading any technical books in college. It was just, write stuff and have the teacher critique it. Or read stuff and talk about it. I think we read those Syd Field books in my screenwriting class, though. Funny!

[E.C. Henry]

Thanks for the tip about Twyla Tharp. Next time I'm at Barnes & Noble I'll see if they have a copy.

And I agree with you, Billy. Writing how-to-books can be inspirational. Yours was, so was Karl Igleasias'.

But when I read theses books I find myself drawn more to getting to know the author and hearing their stories, than learning how to write.

Terry Brook's book, "Sometimes the Magic Works: Lessons from a Writing Life" is a great one in that department.

A few years back, before I really got into screenwriting, I wrote an epic fantasy novel, and through PNWA got my work check-out by the premire fantasy writer in the post Tolkien era.

Gang, its an awesome age to be a writer! We have access to pros like no other time in history. Enjoy it!!!

- E.C. Henry from Bonney Lake, WA

[MaryAn]

Twice now, I've held a fourteen year old dog in my arms and said goodbye while the doctor put a needle in his arm. The last time was this past October. I didn't know my heart could hurt that much and keep beating. Sometimes I dream he needs to go outside so I wake up in the middle of the night to let him out. I go to the back door and what the? No dog! But then I go back to bed and my new dog, half Chihuahua and half Yorkie, is always stretched out on my pillow and laughing at me. Looks like I got thirteen and a half more years with that little guy!

http://fencingwiththefog.blogspot.com/2005/10/if-jack-sparrow-was-dog.html

[mernitman]

MaryAn: Ooof... I can relate to those sad dog stories! But I'm glad yours has a happy ending -- no, not an ending, but that life goes on -- that is... Oh, you know what I mean.

[writergurl]

Spinach? Hmm, seems to me, I just got through with a big ol' heapin' helpin' o' Spinach. I was called: "Writing he Romantic Comedy."

Delicious stuff, that. the chef sure knows how to cook!

[B.A.]

Love the image of the novel up on blocks with its engine out. (can relate to it!) And photo of that dear Italian dog, Minni. May she RIP. B.

[mernitman]

WriterGurl, I'm so glad you enjoyed your meal (it's that special sauce, prob'ly -- old Russian recipe...)

B, don't make me start to weep anew...