Today’s post is a three-course meal. This is my way of justifying three topics crammed into one post instead of three separate posts. As for which way is better, YMMV.
Course #1: as I’ve been reading Orson Scott Card’s A Storyteller in Zion lately, I started itching to write more. So this morning before church I wrote a story. Now, usually when I start writing stories, absurdity flies in and I don’t get more than a page or two into it before I give up. Don’t believe me? Here’s a story I started writing last week:
“Please just put it down. Please.” Turning around, I saw a man dressed in orange standing behind me, his hands face-out, a desperate grimace pasted on his face.
I looked down at the telephone receiver in my hand, then back at the booth. Nothing too out of the ordinary — just a dangling telephone book. My glance returned to the phone. “Excuse me? I’m afraid I don’t—”
“No! Put it down now, quickly. Just don’t–don’t–don’t say anything.” He was almost crying.
“I—”
“Please!”
Swallowing hard, I frowned and slowly extended the receiver back to its home.
“No! Don’t hang up!” He lunged for the phone. And then he tripped on his bell-bottomed pants and fell to the ground, his outstretched hand missing the phone by two or three inches.
Other people were starting to notice. An old lady in heels with a stuffed shopping bag had stopped a few feet away, wrinkled brow and squinting eyes.
A policeman stepped through the doorway opposite the telephones, pointing a gun at the man in orange. “Hold it right there, no sudden moves.”
The man hadn’t moved. Nor had I.
“I’m sorry, sir,” said the policeman. “You’d better leave.”
“Leave? But—”
He frowned. “Yes, you’d better leave. Sorry.”
I slowly turned and started walking out the door, hundreds of thoughts tumbling through my head. What was going on?
And because I couldn’t figure out what the heck was going on, I stopped. But this morning, it was different. The story ended up being only a page long, but it was normal (phew!), and it was even good enough that I wasn’t embarrassed after I finished writing. But no, you can’t see it yet. I’m going to revise it a few times, give it some extra polish, and then I’ll post it. This storytelling thing can get addicting. :)
Course #2: On my mission in Thailand I had two mission presidents, one for the first nine months and another for the rest. The latter finished his three years not too long ago, arrived home in America on Monday, and spoke in church today. And so over seventy of us missionaries went to see him. We also sang “Called to Serve” in Thai (I played the piano), and it was awesome.
Why do I bring this up? I realized that I haven’t really talked about my mission on here, other than a fleeting reference to my time in the office. Time for that to change. :)
I loved my mission. It was hard, sure, but I grew more than I could ever have imagined. And I look back on those two years and they really are some of the sweetest memories I have. The people are great (both the Thais and the missionaries), the food was amazing, the scenery was gorgeous (and I found even the ghettoes of Bangkok gorgeous in their own way — it takes the eye of an artist, I guess ;)), and the language was a delight to learn and speak.
But most importantly, and this is what made all the difference, serving the Lord and His children transformed what would have been a two-year vacation into a life-changing series of events that I will cherish for the rest of eternity.
Granted, I’ve only been home for two years, but I can already say that I am who I am to a large degree because of my mission. I wouldn’t give that time in Thailand up for the world.
Course #3: Filet mignon with caviar on the side.
Er, what I meant to say was, I was really struck with the beauty of nature and outside and sunsets as I was walking up here about an hour ago. This really is an awesome world we live in, laden with beauty everywhere you turn. When I was younger I don’t think I fully appreciated that, but over time I’ve come to see the majesty of a concert of blades of grass, swaying and dancing with the wind; the penetrating, simple beauty of a drop of water on a leaf; and of course the ever-changing performance the sun puts on each evening with its coterie of clouds. I consider myself an amateur artist, and so it tickles me pink to think that God himself is an artist — the Artist of all artists, in fact.
Beauty like this makes me want to grab it all up, soaking in every moment lest the time finally come when it all runs out and we’re left with nothing. But o glorious day, that time will never come! And even if I die young, I still have an eternity to look forward to the beauty of God’s creation, because it’s eternal and never ends. The next life will be even more radiant and rich and colorful and mind-stunningly, spine-tinglingly, jaw-droppingly beautiful. I can’t wait. :)
[tags]Orson Scott Card, writing, Thailand, LDS, Mormon, missionary[/tags]
Comments
Hi again.
Course #1: I’m the same way when it comes to writing … well, *anything* creative. I start things and then don’t know how to continue them. But I often think it would be a good creative exercise to give oneself a difficult or nonsensical situation and then figure out a way to make it make sense. Or to give oneself any restrictive set of parameters and create something meaningful within them. I also like weirdness and absurdity for their own sake, so I would come up with a story like yours on purpose. :)
Course #3: Are you like this in person? :D
May I suggest a most excellent collection of essays for you to read, most on the subject of writing and reading? I will assume your acquiescence, and give you the title: Mystery and Manners, by Flannery O’Connor (who wrote the best short stories I have ever read).
Happens to me all the time. But I’m just a dude with a pen and paper– I wouldn’t call myself a writer.
Andy: After reading G.K. Chesterton, I’ve come to appreciate absurdity, but I do think it has to be handled correctly. A lot of modern stuff (stuff being literature/movies/TV shows) aims for absurdity but fails miserably and ends up being just plain stupid. At least in my experience. :)
I really like the idea of giving oneself a restrictive set of parameters, because constraints kindle creativity. One of my writer friends challenged me to write a dialogue between two flowers, and a short story about betrayal in outer space, and having those constraints really unleashed my creativity. One of these days I’ll revise them and post them.
As for whether I’m like this in person, I guess that depends on what you mean. :) The “filet mignon” part? Waxing poetic? I think I am like that in person, though my waxings poetic often come out better on paper (and yet every once in a while I utter a gem :)).
Speaking of which, I think this blog is a pretty accurate indicator of my personality. I don’t put up a facade to hide behind — this is me, plain and simple. (Or plain and tall, except I’m not that tall.) So yes, the Ben whose personality comes through in this blog is the same Ben in real life. Those of you who know me can correct me if I’m wrong. :)
Anna: My interest is piqued, and my acquiescence is granted. :) Both copies here at the library are checked out, but when they get returned, I’ll definitely look into it.
Sixline: Lol, a “dude with a pen and paper” works just as well as a “writer.” The important thing is the writing.
Throw in your two cents