My novel is whispering to me again. The characters I left off with are impatient for the story to continue while the ones on deck are downright angry at waiting for their turn to be edited. You'd think they'd be quiet, knowing any of them could die in the rewrite. But no, they campaign for their time in the spotlight and their chance at making their character better from the first draft. If I enjoyed myself outdoors more I could say that the lovely spring days are what keep me from writing, but that's not it. It's lack of discipline. I have nothing holding me back but myself. So this morning, while the laundry is washing and drying and doing what it's meant to do, I'm going to do the same and free my writer's mind of all this chatter. It's time to move on to the next five chapters even without feedback from the first. The story is in my head after all, and truly not in the hands of any helpful editors. With that being said, if Mr. Practicle is still reading my blog, I hope he knows I'm not trying to rush him with this statement. Just stating the facts. As I'm so prone to do which gets me so misunderstood. People think I'm passive aggressive. And while some may use that technique to be passive aggressive, I'm not. I think it's all in our tone of voice, or tone of mind if you are reading. And we forget this when our lives have become so technical instead of personal. We talk more with our loved ones through texting and messaging now than with our voices, and tone is something heard. Or placed over the written word. So if a trusted friend suddenly doesn't 'sound' like themselves over a text perhaps it is your own present mood coloring the situation, and escalating it.
I used to jump to conclusions over the internet until I understood how misunderstood a simple sentence can be in a conversation, without the sound of my voice to accompany my text. I would much rather talk on the phone or in person, but that luxury is denied me as my best confidants and friends and loved ones are all far away from me. And most of them prefer to text because the phone can be difficult and problematic for them. So I try to over simplify my words online, however sometimes I get so wrapped up in the actual conversation, with an actual adult, that I forget that even my best friends might not be in the same mood I'm in and therefore might have a different tone.
I'm sure they try to think before getting upset like I do. But a part of me wonders if that's really true. If anyone actually stops, and thinks, 'wait a minute...my friend would never feel this...maybe it's me?' doubtful right? Most of us believe we are right all the time. For example, most of us believe we are funny, smart and good drivers. But we can't all be funny, smart and good drivers. So some of us must be delusional. (I think Dennis Leary had a routine on this. Can't remember.) Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that I'm frequently misunderstood online. And I think it's because most people want to expect the worst of the other guy instead of the best. I think we're all defensive because we've had enough of trying to do things the right way and getting burned or ripped off or destroyed. Both emotionally and financially in this world. And so we start off on the defense. How refreshing it must have been to live in a time where our first instinct was to help each other instead of ignoring each other. My mom grew up in the depression and she used to speak of the road weary that would show up at their farm looking for work for a meal. And how her father would open his home, with a wife and 15 children, (5 home at a time, so still a sizable number) and give the hobo (what they called them then) some field work, a meal, and a bath before sending him on his way. Sometimes they even stayed in the barn for a week if there was enough work. But the thought that this homeless person would harm them for their kindness was not the first thought. I'm betting for them it wasn't even a second or third thought because they were Christians. Real ones. Not the new fangled ones now that have mega churches while the poor go hungry. But ones that were told that what you give you get back, tenfold.
I long for a simpler time. When you could tell the bad guys from the good guys by a look or a cut of their suit. Or a tone in their voice. Technology is a modern marvel, and one I'm as addicted to as the next person, but one I honestly believe will destroy us as humans.
Cheers. Blessed Be.