One can get lost in stories. The funny
thing is, the best way to find out where you are is to get lost. As
you do so, over and over, you build maps in your head, learn the
terrain, find landmarks. Soon, by being lost, you're found again,
and the number of places you're found increases.
The number of places you're lost never
gets smaller, though.
Choosing to be lost, so that you can
find yourself again is an excellent way to learn. It's how I do most
of mine. I dive into something sort of sideways and end up looking
out on new territory. That's what writing is for me, to launch
myself into something that I have no idea what it is or where it's
going, and discover my way.
I suppose that's part of my problem. I
like diving into the water and swimming, I like finding new mountains
to guide my course by. But when I've gotten the major landmarks,
when I know where I am, it's about the details, then. What course
does this stream take, exactly. Not that there's a stream there, but
what is its specific shape? That interests me much less than knowing
that the stream is there, that mountain is there, and the gorge leads
this way.
There are people who will spend their
entire lives mapping a few hundred meters of that gorge. I just want
a general idea, so I can draw my maps. Maybe that's why I find
myself wandering from mental place to mental place, never really
settling in to do the details. Maybe that's why this format works
for me. It's not about details, it's not about knowing whether the
hero's hat is russet brown or sorrel brown. To me, it's enough to
know the hero is there, and has a hat on.
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