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I have to go out into the world this morning and tend to some business, so this entry will be short.
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At The Daily Dish I read an excerpt from a letter to Rodin from Rilke --
"I have often asked myself whether those days on which we are forced to be indolent are not just the ones we pass in profoundest activity? Whether all our doing, when it comes later, is not only the last reverberation of a great movement which takes place in us on those days of inaction…"
Profound activity produced by laziness and sloth? This seems to me to be a non sequitur. Or perhaps I do not possess sufficient cognitive equipment to follow such an apparently intuitive grasp of the creative thought process.
Yes, that's probably what it is.
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How much water should the average person drink per day? 8 glasses? Are you sure? How about beverages containing caffeine? Do they cause dehydration? Yes? Are you sure?
World of Psychology says, "Drink when you are thirsty, not because you believe you need to."
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The Fictionaut Blog
Fictionaut brings the social web to literary fiction, connecting readers and writers through a community network that doubles as self-selecting magazine highlighting the most exciting short stories, poetry, flash fiction, and novel excerpts.
A short interview with Daniel Handler
Daniel Handler is the author of the literary novels The Basic Eight, Watch Your Mouth, and, most recently, Adverbs. Under the name Lemony Snicket he has also written a sequence of books for children, known collectively as A Series of Unfortunate Events, which have sold more than fifty-three million copies and were the basis of a film starring Jim Carrey. His intricate and witty writing style has won him numerous fans for his critically acclaimed literary work and his wildly successful children’s books.
Handler says, "...character is bunk. There is plot, and there is voice, and they conspire to create an illusion we call 'literature'."
Gene, I believe Rilke's rumination that you quote was perspicacious and true. Oftentimes, as a writer I feel frustrated when no ideas seem apparent; but what I might interpret as my own indolence is the land my mind travels as it seeks the thoughts inside itself. Some call it waiting for inspiration, and they advise against such "inactivity." More power to them. But as for me, I must allow what feels like emptiness inside to fill itself.
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