I talked about artists’ brains in a previous post, and how it seems like we can’t stick to just one medium. I didn’t get too many comments here, but when I shared this on my FB page, a lot of my artist friends commented about how true this was for them.
I’m not sure why, still, but I do really love the amount that I end up taking from one art to apply to the others. The two that crossover the most, though, are my dancing and my writing.
I don’t know why, exactly. I mean, drumming and dancing have this obvious rhythmic thing happening, and I certainly pick up feelings and intuitions that I take from one art to the other, but when it comes to consciously thinking, “Oh! I could totally use that little nugget here!” it’s usually while dancing and thinking how it applies to my writing.
I attended a dance workshop in the fall, and one of the classes was on bringing yourself into your dance. There were several exercises, all designed to bring out something you were feeling at the time, and how to bring that feeling into your dance so the audience feels it, too. At the start of the workshop, the presenter told us that A) he was sick of belly dancers and B) that if you have great technique but no personality, no style, no energy, he was going to fall asleep during your routine, because he’s a professional sitar player and has seen great technique worldwide. So, he said, how are YOU going to keep MY attention?
Ah! Such a profound question in terms of writing a great novel! I myself am sick to death of vampires. Seriously. I’ve been reading and researching them for years now, and I don’t care anymore. I’ve read a couple different takes on their powers as if that will keep things fresh, and it does not. What makes the vampires in the stories I like compelling is not what power they do or don’t have or how they feed or how long they live or don’t live, it’s in how they live. What will they do with this state they are in? Are they new? Old? Angry? Soulless? Hurt? Vulnerable? So they’re a vampire — then what happened, and why did it matter they were a vampire? That’s the cool bit. When it starts getting human. And how am I, little vampire writer that I am, going to keep the attention of people who’ve likely read all the vampire books out there? How am I going to make vampires cool for them? By putting ME in the story, my thoughts and observations, my experience as a human, my feelings and personality.
I also noticed, after the dance workshop, that not only did I have an excellent breakthrough in my dance, but I attended a workshop like this at the Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis several years ago. The workshop essentially went through the exact same exercises, but in writing, and brought out the exact same breakthrough in my writing. In both classes, people cried. In both classes, there was a beautiful, wide-eyed inspiration in the students by the end. In both classes, we found out through our craft why it is that we do our craft. That second workshop was possibly the best refresher course on writing I’ve ever had — while dancing to live sitar music.
My dance instructor also gave a course on stage presence where we learned about stealing like an artist, watching our role models do what we want to do (literally, find a video of them doing it, sit down and stare at them), constructing a dance character and movements based on the music, how a single well-timed gesture can leave an observer feeling blown away, tackling fears and insecurities, etc. Almost every class, I thought, (and because I’m a loud mouth, probably yelled out loud in class, too) “Ah! This is a wonderful way to think about writing!”
People often ask, “What advice would you give to a beginning writer?” (Like I’m a big whopping expert.) My answer has always been, “study your language. Study your craft. Read writing books, take writing workshops, talk to other writers, read your genre, write.” But I do think I need to add, “pursue other arts that interest you.” They’re all going to benefit each other, and in the end, they’ll benefit you and your audience.
