Parodious monk

Here's where I was going in the last prompt-based post.

Something I've been taught in writing classes (and something with which I agree) is that a writer needs to recognize what he or she is good at and take hold of those strengths; likewise, recognize what he or she is not so good at and find ways of compensating. Some writers are great at developing setting, some at writing dialogue, some at crafting plot, some at creating rhythm and sound, some at commanding syntax and diction; some are amazing at one or a few of those, some pretty good at a bunch. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses, but the best writers tend to know their own and utilize or compensate in kind.

So. What are my strengths and weaknesses? Well, we certainly don't have time to delve into all my weaknesses right now. But maybe piece by piece I'll figure it out. Right now I want to hit on something that I think about a lot and that tonight's CWP made me think of.

(Throat-clearing done yet? Sheesh.)

I'm much better at playing off of the great ideas of others than I am creating great ideas of my own. Let me clarify: I'm much better at creating from the starting point of someone else's piece than I am creating from the starting point of a blank page. Parody is still creation, after all (otherwise it would merely be imitation). But it is also creation that couldn't exist without someone else's creation. I find the most success when I have a framework with which to start, even that framework is somebody else's that I've turned on its head (or maybe inside out).

But I'll face it: Some of my best pieces have strong echoes of other writers. This is who I am, it seems. Even when speaking, my dear wife has pointed out, I imitate others without even thinking about it. I think that when it comes to writing I need to accept this and take advantage of it. The ideas are my own, the voice is still my own, but the styles and the spirits of others get sucked into my head when I read and spat back out when I write.