Dear Reader,
I meant this week to be the latest in my #Murakami challenge. The post is written and in the quiver ready and waiting. However, some wicked storms passed through Houston this week. And, since I believe in hidden blessings, this is an opportunity for my writing that I didn’t expect.
It started like it always does with me and natural disasters, I was watching television and avoiding it all. This avoidance is textbook for me. This is something I did during Hurricane Harvey as well. I retreated to Stars Hallow to visit the Gilmore Girls. Note, I do not like watching Gilmore Girls but I wanted to be distracted by a place that has simple complications.
And just like during Harvey, it was my sister who told me that a storm was a coming.
“Did you not get the notice on your phone?” She said as she was getting dressed, work boots in a heap next to her.
I did. The noticed it said there was a tornado warning and to take cover. What that meant was that a twister had been announced and that we needed to take precautions. Having lived in tornado alley for two years, I knew that required a basement or somewhere low to the ground. In below-sea-level Houston, that meant…good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor.
And so here was the thing, I reluctantly decided to leave the world of Eve and Villanelle and join reality. I got dressed. The rain and the wind joined forces and the windows rattled. Shit. I grabbed the hurricane kit that I hadn’t checked yet (I do every year but I hadn’t gotten a chance to do that yet) and yelled for my mom to join my sister in the bathroom. The lights flickered. The windows continued to rattle. And then we were dumped into darkness. Since I usually keep a candle in my room, I was able to reach for the lighter and light it with little problems. I handed my mom and sister the weather radio and the camping lights. I grabbed flashlights, my phone, and the Halo, and ran to the inside closet.
There was quiet in the darkness. Windows stopped rattling. The wind abandoned its howling. My ears popped. Double shit.
After the storm, we were plunged in darkness with light from candles and flashlights. Y’all, get you a weather radio with a flashlight. Also a Halo. They come in clutch. With nothing to entertain me, I decided that this was a perfect time to write. Old school. Pen and paper. Write by the light of a candle…but also a flashlight because candlelight is not as bright.
With no electricity and no internet, I couldn’t return to what I was working on. So, against the #Murakami method’s advice, I started something new. This was a story that I long been thinking about but didn’t know how quite to execute it. I decided what the heck, let me at least try it out. This story idea was in my “C” category (more on this in the post coming next week but here’s the video that I got the idea from).
I’ve called it, for now, “The Storm” and it’s more on the mystery vein of storytelling. I was able to get three pages of it done before my body said to rest. It was well past midnight.
It’s been interesting working with the #Murakami method. The micro sessions of writing feel so much more productive than trying to carve out hours of time to work on something. I feel that in three creative pages, I’ve been able to train my brain to have not only a burst of creativity but also to plan for future sessions. It’s weird but it feels that way. It also feels manageable. Often times when it comes to creative endeavors, it seems like a Herculean effort. The challenge is the balance between creative work and life — actual work, kids, family responsibilities. We are living lives where finding time just to make a cup of coffee feels so difficult. The to-do lists have to-do lists. Creative pursuits take back seats to responsibilities, whether they are our doing or not.
So this feels so manageable, and even possible. But there is also grace there. Grace to not write for whatever reason. Grace to take a pause for a work project that has to happen. Grace to take care of sick family member. Grace to breathe. Grace to not constantly produce.
The next day, there was electricity but no internet. I was grateful to have no damage to the house and our belongings and to be able to charge devices and flip on lights. Cell service was spotty at best. Again, I took to the page — both to write and to read. So, I did, focusing on the next three pages.
And just like it did the story I was working on, it began to open up. The story became clearer, the ending the sparkling light at the end of the tunnel. The characters were there. The setting in my mind’s eye. Everything was as vivid as a bright Spring day.
Not sure what is happening as a result of this method but I like it. Even when there is chaos, there is flexibility to work or not.
It feels like agency. It feels like being in the driver’s seat again even when there is chaos swirling around me. And I like it.
More next week,
Icess
I'm glad you and your family made it through okay. I love the small ways you were able to feel agency while writing. Lovely.