Have you ever stopped to ponder the sunset when your view is to the east? What about the sunrise if your only vantage point is westward? There are odes, sonnets, and many a verse committed to the beauty of sunrises and sunsets, and yet as I look out my eastern facing window as the sun is descending I cannot help but wonder at the view, were I able to look the other way. Would it be glorious, would it be eventful, or would it be an unnoticed moment of time because the remarkability of it fell short of so many others?
Perspective is everything, and it is nothing. For the writer, perspective will dictate plot, character, and points of view. Vantage point will determine the protagonist and the antagonist, as well as drive the fans to love or loathe the story…so again I wonder at the view were I able to rotate my head one hundred eighty degrees.
Recently as many of you may know, I torched the manuscript of a story that was very dear to my soul as a writer. I knew the story well, and could see it play out in random momentary lapses of focus or awareness knowing exactly what I was seeing without having to wonder an iota. I burnt it to cinder because as I had forcibly been converting it to a different point of view I was in fact no longer telling the story I knew. It was not working because it was wrong.
Perhaps that is the case for many of us and instead of challenging ourselves to turn around and see the puzzle from a new point of view, we set it aside and it becomes a paver on the path of forgotten dreams. The story did not die, we killed it off in a fiery blaze or a quiet smothering as we did not adapt to find the voice from which it should be told. As I ponder the sunset I cannot see, I am reminded of the stories paving my path that have yet to have proper voice and am Thankful (yes it’s Thursday), for the inspiration and knowledge of what is possible to resurrect the muse for that tale so that the Bard in my soul can have a voice.