How I Write

There are times that I sit down in front of my computer, keyboard at the ready and I don’t know how to begin. And there are other times when the words flow as if they have come from a place outside of myself, a place that is always there but sometimes accessing it is easy and natural. And sometimes not so much. I don’t know if I can truthfully say, “like other writers” because I don’t know that for a fact. I have never sat inside another writers mind and watched their process from the inside. I only know what I see from the outside when I read their work.

I write about people. Their motivations at times, their feelings at times and sometimes what drives them to do the things they do. I write about friendship, as I wish friendship would always be: pure, uncompromising and always present during good and bad. But I’m enough of a realist to know that this exists only in my mind as something to strive toward. I’ve rarely encountered it in the world.

The people I write about often are echoes of people I’ve known or met. Sometimes it’s someone close to me. Sometimes not. Sometimes it’s someone I heard about third hand. Sometimes it’s an amalgam of different people that, at the time of their writing, simply feel right to me.

My wife has been inspiration to me. I’ve watched her walk up to a perfect stranger and pay them an unsolicited compliment. She changed that person’s perspective of the world in that moment. Or at least I’d like to think so. “I love your nails” she said to a gay man who had had his nails done, long tips and a bright color. She didn’t have to do that but, in that moment she saw something she thought deserved a compliment. So she made it and the joy on that man’s face was real and obvious. She changed his perspective in that moment. Being gay was OK. And here is someone who isn’t afraid to recognize that. She walked up to a table of women in a restaurant with a baby in a high chair. She said, “what a beautiful baby”. She spoke to them for a few minutes. It was obvious to me that the mother didn’t know how to take what she had said but, she was gracious and thanked my wife for her comments.

I get lost sometimes thinking about these small moments. And I think that’s the point, isn’t it. Getting lost in something that’s meaningful and perhaps beautiful and using that to bring a character to life on the page. When I wrote AL, a story about a Grim Reaper and his girlfriend Gloria have I ever known a Grim Reaper? Of course not. Or at least I don’t think so. Have I known people who were fussy about how they looked and acted? Oh yes, I have. So AL came from a collection of people who loved to dress well and carry themselves a certain way. Have I ever known attractive Jewish girls? Oh yes absolutely. So Gloria is also an amalgamation of pretty Jewish girls I’ve known. Is there a Gloria out there somewhere? Probably. But the point being that I took real people I’ve known and used them as a template to bring the character to life on the page.

So, if you happen to read one of my stories and say to yourself, “that reminds me of (____). Then I think I’ve done a good job of bringing the story to life with people who could possibly be real. Even a man from the Pleistocene Epoch frozen in ice and brought to life in 21st Century Los Angeles. Well, maybe not but I think you get my point.