May 102013
 

A fellow on the Fiction Writers Group on LinkedIn started a discussion about defining what “art” is in relationship to writing. I had to weigh in on that discussion, because I have tried to look at that issue in two other parts of my life. Plus, its a philosophical discussion and I’m a sucker for that sort of thing.

This is how I responded to the issue:

“The concept of what art is could be batted around until we’re dead, buried, and the Earth is a crispy cinder.

When I was a Fine Art Major in college, art was defined as “…created to engender an emotional response.” We can argue that nearly anything is art if it evokes emotion, even if that emotion is gut-deep revulsion.

In my life as a bladesmith, we bandy about when high craft transcends the barrier into fine art. Once again, there’s no consensus, except the expectation of high design and exquisite craftsmanship.

Perhaps, as writers, we’re going for a combination of those things. Exquisite craftsmanship with words that evokes an emotional response in the reader.”

At this point in my career as an author/writer, I am less concerned with creation of art than I am with telling a good story. Could I argue that a good story is art? Probably, but that’s beside the point.

Whether you’re a painter, sculptor, bladesmith, goldsmith, ceramics artist, woodworker, or writer—if you love your craft—you’re going to spend your life improving your skills. Will you reach “art”? I don’t know. I don’t know that I will, either. I do suspect that the more you love what you do, practice, and pour yourself into it, the more likely it is that art may appear when you’re not paying attention.

So, to all the artists, best wishes!

May 082013
 
Never again will I fry polenta.

I’ll bake it. I’ll broil it in broth.
Maybe I’ll mash it up with cream.

I’ll Posh Nosh it thoroughly.

Never again will I fry polenta.
There are tiny burns on my arms.

I slid around the floor, lubed up,

As our smoke alarm went insane.

Never again will I fry polenta.
It inspires the strangest things,
Like a post-repast tilt at poetry.
Mostly, though, I feel real greasy.
 Posted by at 9:16 pm
May 082013
 

I was just working on BSAG, and I found myself writing the death of a character who’s been around since the first book. I didn’t intend, in my copious notes, to kill him off. It just happened. It just works.

I feel a little strange about it, as I always do when a story takes a turn that I didn’t plan on, or never considered as a possibility.

Anyhow, how is everyone out there?

 Posted by at 10:54 am  Tagged with: