Rewriting that novel about the Changelings and the Fae, and I remembered this comment From C. J. Cherryh. Except I haven’t been asleep for a night or nap. It’s weeks. I would call it writer’s block, but I wasn’t really blocked. I just found all those other things that really needed doing. Today, when I started to open that game, that just needed to play for a few minutes, of course. (Funny how a few minutes is never just a few minutes) I decided to open the file and write, just 50 words, yes, just 50. Fifty became a hundred, and a hundred, two.
Which rhymes, of course, with Mister McGoo.
And I found a note in the file about a type of fae, a Bannik, that I’d seen on face book in a C.J. Cherryh post. It is a bath Faerie, and Oberon is helped in his bath b a faerie, a Bannik, and so Looked up that note and traced it to this. This, of course, is my way of giving a callout to a writer I’ve loved through her work.
Thanks, C.J. I’m back in the saddle again, and you have some of the credit.
Of banniks, the Russian novels, and writing…
Nap attacks and writing…
Ever had one of those sessions where your brain just goes into a near catatonic desire for sleep when you’re trying your hardest to think?
Go with it. That’s lizard-brain trying to communicate. The hind-brain talks to us when we have two ideas in the mill that are trying to link up.
It’s not a verbal part of the brain. It never says a word. It does communicate, however—often at the edge of sleep.
Or in the shower….
There are good showers and showers that are really good.
The old Russians believed there was a bath-spirit, the bannik, that lived in the spooky dim bathhouse and would tell you secrets and foretell the future if you fed it vodka.
A bannik doesn’t like to appear in front of you. He sits behind you. If you annoy him or try to look at him, he’ll swipe at you with long claws. But if you respect him, he’ll whisper the future in your ears.
Court a bannik if you’re stuck. He works best in a shower or sauna when lights are low and you’re pouring water over your head.
Give up and go take a nap when the brain goes on null. Listen to the back of your skull. Likely you’ll lie there for ten minutes, an idea will pop into your head, and you’ll be up and running for the keyboard.
If it still eludes you, ask the bannik.