21 June 2008

Dr. Seuss

As I continued reading Inkheart last week, I was thinking about writing a post about reading begetting writing, because I really did feel a little more inspired along the lines of the kind of writing I wanted to do as I read that. I made some progress in my thesis even, which isn't fantasy, but definitely lighter-hearted. I think a lot of it was feeling the contrast between reading The Woman in White compared to Inkheart. The mystery and heavy writing and adult writing of that book were not really conducive to my kind of writing, and I could feel it, a bit of a lag.

But why did you name this Dr. Seuss you're asking? Well, if you're following my booklist, which you're probably not, especially since the alphabetical format doesn't make it as easy to follow as a chronological one might--anyway, if you happen to be following it, then you'd noticed that I've added quite a few of Dr. Seuss's books today. (It's okay, you can look now.) And so, I'm discovering just in my thinking that reading does indeed beget writing because it begets thinking. How can anyone read 15 Dr. Seuss books in a day or two day period and not be forcing themselves to find rhymes for every thought that pops into their head? Now I haven't sat down to write a poem or a rhyming picture book today. I suppose I might later, but I imagine it might flow a little easier. Instead I've been working on other things for classes which are more prosy, and indeed, I've struggled a bit. But it is an interesting phenomenon to note.

So since I started with an example of different proses rather than immediately with Dr. Seuss you're not as tempted to argue that it's an isolated case that rhyming would naturally beget rhyming, but other styles, well, how can you prove that? I don't know that you can prove it, but don't you find yourself thinking more like people that you spend a lot of time with? How else could be a cliche statement to say that friends are finishing each other's sentences. It happens. And so if your mind is in books, you'll start to think like the books. It only makes sense. (Another reason to consider earlier posts about influences on children. But here, I'm just taking the case for style. I think I might have talked influences into the ground for the time being--well, actually I came up with a pretty cool metaphor yesterday, maybe I'll share that, but next post.)

When I was more interested in writing picture books, I found that if I ran to the library and read a bunch and checked out some more to read through the week, that my mind did ruminate along the lines of picture books. I had that style of plot going on in my head and that age of characters and their sillinesses and problems at the forefront. To contrast that, during one of the summers here at Hollins when I thought I wanted to work on picture books (the class was a free frall, for what you wanted to work on and there were a few who dabbled with picture books and poetry), but by in large, people were working on novels and since we were reading each other's work, my mind got to running in the circles of older characters' troubles and sillinesses and eventually I got more involved in a longer novel which is now my thesis. So, it can have positive effects in both directions. In fact, I would have to say I'd recommend the seeking of multiple styles of influences as you go about begetting writing things. I think it can help you find your strengths and your weaknesses and see where you like your mind to be.

So maybe I haven't said much, but it's kind of interesting to think about.

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