Sharpening the Focus

Here is how it is with me and writing: I start with mood. I settle in with sounds. I slowly understand the pullingpushing that is plot. I close my eyes and wait and wait until (on a good day) a single detail comes into view. Sunlight crossing the threshold of a room. Confectioner's sugar. The bared teeth of a feral cat. Sound is mood. Mood is sound. The detail advances plot.

There is a pad of paper in my lap, a black, inky pen. There are arrows connecting words, words obliterating words, words in a chase after words. A single right sentence emerges, but then again: it must be rubbed out and resurrected. Must be whittled and widened. Must be improved.

I start the process again.

I have been playing with the focus on my camera lately. Feels precisely like writing to me.