I think I’m losing my mind. Even at the best of times my inner narrator provides an occasional play-by-play of my existence, but my current level of running commentary is reserved for the times when I’m almost exclusively absorbed in my writing, as I am now.
The source of this narratus intrusionous? I spend hours recounting the lives of my characters, and then I can’t seem to find the switch to turn off the narration. This means that I can’t do anything without a witness in my own brain observing all and synthesizing it into giant globs of first-draft text. Believe me, there’s nothing that will point out how mundane your life can be like having a blow-by-blow account of petting your cat or going to the bathroom. To illustrate, let me provide an especially riveting example from last night:
Caryn pulled open the fridge door and scanned the shelves, searching for a snack. Nothing. The pantry? Still nothing. Perhaps the freezer would come through. Of course, last night the freezer yielded a half-empty bag of dehydrated peas and a frozen pizza, but there was always hope…
This commentary is disturbing for several reasons. First of all, I’m referring to myself in the third person. That in itself is a clue that I need to fire my narrator and get a new one. Nothing against third person — I use it in my writing all the time — but when it comes to my own thoughts, I should at least be the lead character in my own life. Which makes me wonder: if I’m not the one doing the narrating, who is? I’d like to say it’s a gorgeous muse with flowing hair and a benevolent smile, filling sheets of parchment with golden words. Her quill pen yields a graceful cursive, and every line is poetry. The truth is more likely a cranky woman named Dolores residing in a shadowed corner of my brain. She has a gravely voice, a smoker’s cough and the language of a longshoreman. In-between attempts to brush away the dust in the air, she bangs away on the keys of a typewriter that is at least as crotchety as she is.
Second of all, I hyperbolize, even when I’m the only audience for my self-narrations. Sure, the quest for dinner didn’t stop with the freezer, but we certainly have more than a frozen pizza and an old bag of peas in there. That doesn’t make for good copy, however, so Dolores reworked the truth to add a little tension.
And, finally, it’s boring, despite the venture into hyperbole. Which is what I rediscover about my life whenever my inner narrator kicks in: There’s not a lot of drama, and when any does come along the hag in the attic actually shuts up so I can focus. That’s why I write. I get to give my characters exciting lives full of adventure and mayhem. Not that I’m complaining, really. That excitement often includes betrayal, war, pestilence, murder, and mass amounts of family turmoil, none of which I want in my own life. What I do want is for the voice to go away when I turn off the computer so I can have a little peace. <!– ckey=”2942F58A” –>
I love reading your words!!! They are smart and introspective.
I find as a writer its hard to turn off what we love. Its hard to stop thinking about something even after you’ve left it; especially since writing is so personal and we give a lot of ourselves to it.
Perhaps, and I believe it to be true -there is a reason this narrative voice is with you so constantly these days. Perhaps its training you to be more efficient and get that work done you are working on. Perhaps its a voice that wants to be heard in some form. Whatever the reason its purpose hasn’t been achieved.
By far, your life seems far from mundane. However, you just have to be a little more tough with yourself and say ok i’m not working, however when the muse wants to speak oftentimes as writers we can’t control that it will be a great time, we just have to give in. Once we do though, we just have to rapidly resume our normal lives or as normal as they’ll be being that we’re writers.
cde
thank goodness there is another who does this…
I enjoy my narrator.
I love your humor! Somehow, when I read my own thoughts on someone ELSE’S blog, it makes me feel less nuts and paranoid. You have a refreshing voice.
Hey, I like your blog template. 😀
I do this! I thought I was the only one… not often, but sometimes I humor myself.
Nice to see I’m not alone!
Thanks for stopping by my blog. I’ve very much enjoyed reading your posts 🙂
Hey… Caryn…!! Long time no see in blog land!! Nice to see you again! Great new template, and looking forward to catching up with your blog!
LOL. I don’t narrate myslef in third person, but I do scrounge through the fridge, move to the pantry, move to the freezer (that I’ve looked at multiple times since I last grocery shopped), on to the cupboards, back to the fridge… Thought I was on my own there. 🙂
So basically, your life is like the movie, Stranger Than Fiction, right? Did you see that? Very interesting… I wonder what’s in store for you. 😉
Wow, thanks so much, 77Free! That really means a lot. And I think you could be onto something there, too.
Patti, it’s amazing how similar we all really can be, isn’t it? I, too, am glad not to be the only one with this problem.
Allan, could we trade narrators? Pretty please? Because I’m sick of mine, and yours sounds fun.
Kristi, thanks so much! And I know exactly what you mean, because I feel the same way. Short of that, I just blog about the quirk myself and hope that others tell me that they feel that way, too.
LOL, Jess. Back at ya on the template! 😉 I like this one, but I do wish I could put my own up instead, or at least tweak this one. Obviously not enough to pay extra for the privilege…
Thanks, Sally! I enjoyed stopping by your blog and reading your posts as well.
Hiya, MM! Glad to see you around here again. It was nice to stop by your site and catch up on your life, too. It feels like it’s been many years instead of just one.
Oh, Mizzzz_K, I do that all the time. It’s especially bad when I’ve just returned from the grocery store. You’d think I’d have something to eat at those times, but noooo…
LOL, Alyssa. I suppose you could say that. I take it you don’t have the narrator? Lucky! And, yes, I’ve seen that movie and enjoyed it both times.