Stories We Tell, Stories We Live

I am working on a new draft of a novel, in which my hope is that my characters will “come alive”.  Anyone who writes fiction will recognize this as a phrase denoting the moment when characters break free of their narrator’s agenda for them and start talking and behaving like independent living beings.

Anyone who has studied “Dynamics of Time and Space” will recognize the terms “narrative” and “story” as a way to examine the operation of our own minds.  As with the concepts of “self” and “ego”, it would be easy to imagine that “stories” are a problem for embodied beings.  But I don’t think that is the point to be drawn.  I think a problem only exists when the self-centered mind fails to recognize the partiality of its own thoughts –when it doesn’’t recognize the fictional nature of its own stories (especially those we label “reality”).  But stories are like the air we breathe and are woven from the time, space and knowledge in which we have our being.

As I ponder how my fictional characters might “come alive”, I seem to be engaged in a process familiar in my own life.  In both cases the task seems to be to break free of limits that are viewed as integral to the conditions that spawned them.  In the case of fictional characters, the author typically starts with notions of plot, setting, timeframe, and then writes something (which typically sounds a bit “wooden” at first).  With such a genesis, it isn’t surprising that characters surface as place-holders in a writer’s  construct.  And in the case of human life on Planet Earth, I expect that most of us have been attracted to TSK and other spiritual traditions, when we felt ready to branch out from some script in which we couldn’t  recall auditioning for the lead role we were playing,   Eventually we may feel ready to “come alive” in a story that we thereby make our own.

The future comes alive when a character tells his author to step aside and just keep writing.

Like Pinochio, we all come with strings attached.  The trick is to remember that strings can be pulled from either end.  –Michael

 

About Michael Gray

I first started studying TSK in the mid 1980's and have since attended a number of retreats and workshops at the Nyingma Institute, in both TSK and Buddhist themes. I participated in the life-changing Human Development Training Program in 1991, and upon returning to Albuquerque co-founded an organization, Friends in Time (with a friend who has Lou Gehrig's Disease), which continues to serve people with similiar disabilities. I contributed an essay to "A New Way of Being"--the last one in the book--in which I describe how learning to honor who I have been has broadened and deepened my openness to present experience. I live in New Mexico with my wife and two sons.
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1 Response to Stories We Tell, Stories We Live

  1. Hi Michael,
    I love this expression of yours, the use of the writing process as metaphor to illustrate the point at which character comes alive – as in our own lives we break free of our presupposed narratives to experience life free of our self-imposed fidelity to them. It reminds me of what I wrote 3 years ago while relentlessly monitoring my own endless storylines. See the link:

    https://cciforum.dreamhosters.com/?p=932

    Best,
    David

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