For many years I have extolled the virtues of meditation in writing fiction. You could just plow ahead, willy-nilly, not giving a thought to character or plot or the deeper message you’re trying to convey…if you want to write BAD fiction. But if you want to make something great, then you need to spend time alone with your thoughts, organising them like your brain is a great and mighty temple with a really organised person in charge who can’t stand it if there’s one little scroll or ancient tapestry out of place. I like to think my guy is called Templeton. It’s a butler name, you see.
No one in the writing group agrees with me, though. I demanded the talking pen tonight to talk about Melbourne’s hyperbaric oxygen therapy scene, and how oxygen chambers can really help one achieve a state of mind wherein the greatness can flow freely. Also, it’s just a lot quieter in there. Nobody gets it, though…they’re all ‘no, all you need is a good idea!’ and ‘coffee is what helps me write!’ and ‘is there any more orange cake?’
Seriously, Sheila. There was an entire plate of the stuff, and I didn’t get a single slice.
Regardless, I really think we should be making use of new technology in our quest to become better writers. Oxygen therapy is here to stay, just like the printing press, opium, laptops, ballpoint pens, those apps that let you speak and they transcribe the things you’ve written, the gramophone and its related inventions and advancements, and really everything else through the ages that creators have used to enhance and speed up their work. I’m telling you people: we need to take advantage of Melbourne’s hyperbaric medicine. And we shall take our place as the greatest creative minds of our generation! Or we could NOT have oxygen therapy and just drink coffee, like fools.