What Does Computer Science and Mathematics Have to Do with Writing?
When my friend, Lynne, read one of my stories, and invited me to join the Long Beach RAG writer’s group, she asked a very astute question: “But you’re a computer and math person. How can you also be creative?”
I pointed out that Da Vinci was an artist and inventor; Pascal and Descartes were both philosophers and mathematicians. But the question got me thinking and the answers came easily.
Both computer science and mathematics require logic. They also have rules and processes. All these disciplines are needed to solve a puzzle—whether designing a program or proving a theory.
When we write, our plot must make sense or fall apart. A character’s behaviors must be believable. Just like programming has, at its core, language, and logic, so must our stories.
Why I’m Never Writing Alone.
When I pictured writers sitting alone at a typewriter or computer, I always wondered—is writing a lonely profession? So, when my first story demanded to be told, I sat down to write, and this is what I discovered.
My character’s name was Molly, an older woman, making dinner for her soon to arrive family. So, I asked Molly—tell me about yourself. And she did. She told me about her abusive husband, her rebellious son, and her complacent daughter. I was in Molly’s head; or perhaps, she was in mine. I realized that Molly was with me in that solitary space. We took this journey together.
Maybe this is why my stories are character driven. I want to know them, and I want the reader to know them, to see them and to understand their motivations. They are real to me in that moment.
I do not write alone.
August 25,2020
Reading, Writing and Authoring
Every Saturday, my sister, Anne, and I would make the five-block walk to the library. Cradled in my arms were the previous weeks bounty of ten picture books. Reading was an integral part of my family life. A common sight on weekends was my father, in his recliner, reading the latest Ian Fleming or John Le Carre, and the rest of the family scattered around our wood paneled den engrossed in their own literary journey.
In college, I purposely took a Philosophy course just so I’d have an excuse to read The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoyevsky. I got into the pattern of reading all an author’s works: Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, Shakespeare, Poe, Thomas Mann, Dickens, Jane Eyre, Steinbeck, and the poetry collections of Robert Frost, Yevtushenko Ferlinghetti, among others. I still do this today.
I have always read for the enjoyment of it. Now, as I strive to become a better writer, I find my reading has an added dimension. I find myself stopping to admire the writer’s craft, like John Steinbeck’s incredible beginning paragraphs of Of Mice and Men. We see the tortured landscape and know that the area is under stress. We know, without the characters saying a word, who they are and their relationship. It is powerful and beautifully written with no pretense, no embellishment. To me, it is writing at its finest.
Today, as I write, I give credit to all the authors who joined me on this journey. I have learned much and enjoyed even more their creations. My path to writing started with reading and I am grateful for the gifts these and other writers have shared with me
Writing Amid the Clutter
I am blessed to be healthy, have a roof over my head and food to eat. I hope you, my readers, are likewise blessed.
My home is cluttered with moving boxes, dislodged belongings waiting to be packed, donated, or discarded. We are moving, but our schedule is unknown. We will not move until we have the covid-19 vaccine and can be comfortable with others in our home and to find a home. So, the motivation to pack, sort and label is diminished.
Also diminished is the peace of mind to write. Those of you who follow me may have noticed the paucity of entries both here and on my Facebook page. I admit to a level of frustration. My ceramics studio is packed up, my desk filled with “to do” lists. My creative outlets are compromised by daily demands.
But there are the stories and characters that fill my mind. The characters come to me in the night and populate my dreams. Nightly, I walk with them through my imagination. Together we form the narrative. They are ready.
“Tell my story.” They demand.
So, I will clear a space on my desk and in my day. Neat piles of “urgent” papers will frame this space, waiting for a later time.
I will unclutter my mind. I will write and be glad for it.
Why this cover for Womenscape?
Well, time to let you in on what ‘Womenscape’ is all about. The title is a combination of the words “Women” and “Landscape”. This collection of twelve stories covers moments in women’s lives from the ages of five to ninety-five. Each woman is unique; each situation is unique. As we go travel through the landscape of our lives, we face challenges. How these women deal with their own challenges makes for entertaining and often surprising outcomes. I enjoyed spending time with these women and I hope you will also.
‘Womenscape’ was published in December 2022 as both an ebook and paperback. by Unsolicited Press.
Don’t you want to write a novel?
There is an implicit bias in this question. That is, writing short stories is not, in and of itself, a complete artform but rather, the stepchild of the novel. I beg to differ (of course). All stories have a beginning, middle, and end. A short story is usually an in-depth study of one character, one situation, and one outcome. It requires a tight plot and a forward movement in a single direction. The short story writer is tasked with creating and developing a new character, situation, and resolution with each story. I love that I have the freedom to explore diverse situations and characters. Then there is the challenge of thinking of the next predicament, the next quirky character, the next surprise outcome.
Will I ever write a novel? Well, who knows? I may surprise myself one day with an idea that demands it. For now, I’m deep into my next collection: A Mom, A Son, A Cat, and A Gun, Stories by Susan Helene and enjoying meeting my new and diverse characters.
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