currently playing on my iPod: I See Fire by Ed Sheeran
I’m not the one who said it first, but I’ll repeat all day long.
Experience feeds the writer.
Fresh experiences help you see colors in new ways, notice different sounds, live novel emotions, and so much more. If you hide in the writing cave, your writing will go gray. It will bore your readers. It will read flat, unreal (and not in a good way). It will suck.
So I tried glassblowing.
And it was AWESOME.
The seriously old art spoke to the history geek in me. We used beeswax to keep the jacks (tongs) from burning or breaking the glass. Beeswax. Not some new-fangled dealio. Just beeswax. When my hubs worked on his paperweight, he dipped a heavy, wooden spoon into water to keep it from scorching. The place smelled like a blacksmith’s forge, all heated metal and steam. I was transported.
The color of the heated glass amazed me. So orange. So absolutely gorgeous. Like a sunset snagged on the end of my pole (I can’t remember what they called the pole).
Contentedness curled up like a big, fat cat around me as I worked, turning, blowing, shaping, creating just for the sake of beauty.
Like I said, it was awesome.
Writers, get out there and live life. You can’t write big if you don’t live at least a little bit big. Experience feeds you. Get out there and eat.