Ritual games people play…

I barely managed to put down 200 words yesterday on my little story, which was frustrating. I was all settled in and ready to rumble. My confused protagonist was starting a conversation with his dead friend. I wrote two fast paragraphs. Life Was Good.

Then it happened.

The four-year-old next door started wailing like a banshee, and banging around like a superball in a pinball machine. Then the seven-year-old decided the screen door in the shared entryway would be a good target to kick soccer balls at.

I'm loathe to get involved with someone else's kids, especially in a confrontational way, because I know first hand how some parents can be; say something negative about their precious spawn and they turn into raving lunatics. Frankly, I'd rather face a rabid rampaging rhino than square off against a parent about their obnoxious child, but if the little darlings do it again on Monday, I'll be forced to take my chances. I am usually not temperamental, but I cannot work with two small children screaming and banging fit to raise the dead.

I tried putting on headphones and listening to music, which will usually do the trick, but it was too little, too late. I was angry, agitated, and out of the zone. I went through my little ritual that I perform before I write, but nothing would start me moving in the right direction again.

But it did start me thinking about rituals, which is suppose to be the subject of this post, so I should probably work my way to it.

I'm always interested in rituals. I think they tell a great deal about us, both as individual people and as a culture.

In the spirit of sharing, I'll discuss some of mine. In what I term my Ritual of the Writer, I fire up the PC, read email, and answer any messages that warrant it. I do the morning dishes and start a load of laundry. I make a cup of tea, then open up the manuscript I plan to work on. I spend a few minutes considering what I want to accomplish and how I'll get there. I review the manuscript and any pertinent notes, then make a second cup of tea. I scratch the nose of whatever small totem animal I happen to have near the PC (for those of you are curious, currently a small beanie baby-like fox). I take a deep breath, then plunge ahead for good or ill. If I'm starting a new project, I perform an extra ritual of lighting a red candle and asking the various divine forces to guide my little endeavor.

I realize I promised I would not wax mystical about the writing process. I don't think I did. This ritual counts as nuts and bolts.

Another important ritual in my life is a recent one. Every Thursday night is theme dinner night for careswen and me. I spend the day picking out songs that fit the theme, try to find clothing that matches, and cook a theme food. It can be as simple as Tex-Mex, to as odd as British 60's Invasion. This week it was Trains, which was significant because it fell into careswen's ongoing exploration of synchronicity.

So I ask you gentle reader, what little rituals do you perform?

Now if you'll excuse me, my story's characters are pestering me again. It seems there is this dead guy who needs to say something to my protaganist.

In Deep Peace
Michael

Ritual games people play…

I barely managed to put down 200 words yesterday on my little story, which was frustrating. I was all settled in and ready to rumble. My confused protagonist was starting a conversation with his dead friend. I wrote two fast paragraphs. Life Was Good.

Then it happened.

The four-year-old next door started wailing like a banshee, and banging around like a superball in a pinball machine. Then the seven-year-old decided the screen door in the shared entryway would be a good target to kick soccer balls at.

I'm loathe to get involved with someone else's kids, especially in a confrontational way, because I know first hand how some parents can be; say something negative about their precious spawn and they turn into raving lunatics. Frankly, I'd rather face a rabid rampaging rhino than square off against a parent about their obnoxious child, but if the little darlings do it again on Monday, I'll be forced to take my chances. I am usually not temperamental, but I cannot work with two small children screaming and banging fit to raise the dead.

I tried putting on headphones and listening to music, which will usually do the trick, but it was too little, too late. I was angry, agitated, and out of the zone. I went through my little ritual that I perform before I write, but nothing would start me moving in the right direction again.

But it did start me thinking about rituals, which is suppose to be the subject of this post, so I should probably work my way to it.

I'm always interested in rituals. I think they tell a great deal about us, both as individual people and as a culture.

In the spirit of sharing, I'll discuss some of mine. In what I term my Ritual of the Writer, I fire up the PC, read email, and answer any messages that warrant it. I do the morning dishes and start a load of laundry. I make a cup of tea, then open up the manuscript I plan to work on. I spend a few minutes considering what I want to accomplish and how I'll get there. I review the manuscript and any pertinent notes, then make a second cup of tea. I scratch the nose of whatever small totem animal I happen to have near the PC (for those of you are curious, currently a small beanie baby-like fox). I take a deep breath, then plunge ahead for good or ill. If I'm starting a new project, I perform an extra ritual of lighting a red candle and asking the various divine forces to guide my little endeavor.

I realize I promised I would not wax mystical about the writing process. I don't think I did. This ritual counts as nuts and bolts.

Another important ritual in my life is a recent one. Every Thursday night is theme dinner night for careswen and me. I spend the day picking out songs that fit the theme, try to find clothing that matches, and cook a theme food. It can be as simple as Tex-Mex, to as odd as British 60's Invasion. This week it was Trains, which was significant because it fell into careswen's ongoing exploration of synchronicity.

So I ask you gentle reader, what little rituals do you perform?

Now if you'll excuse me, my story's characters are pestering me again. It seems there is this dead guy who needs to say something to my protaganist.

In Deep Peace
Michael