I played oboe today in my house for the first time. I've been living there three months. It was refreshing to not worry about neighbors so close they could be bothered by me, as I felt when I lived in the apartment. I was inspired by thinking of this one violinist character in one of my stories.
I thought of how well he could play and how I wished I could play like that. Then I realized I could play like that. It wasn't a pipe dream. I just had to do it.
My relationship with the oboe is somewhat similar to my relationship with the German language. I am surprised at how good I am at doing it considering the small amount of effort I put into it over all. Still, it is a think I very much like, and I take comfort in it.
Last Saturday I got out the pen, and I started writing again. I haven't written any fiction this year until then. I was going to work on this story I wrote up last April as an adaption of my longest, most epic Harry Potter fan fiction. (If Cassandra Clare can do it, so can I, but hopefully with less blatant connection and no plagiarism.) It felt good to write again and connect to my creative self.
I realized something while rereading my story. The story in my head and the story that I actually wrote. The one I wrote isn't very good yet. I found that comforting, though I was at a loss to explain why. Perhaps it is because I know it can only get better from here.
I was also doing some thinking about that epic fan fic because I was working diligently 2 years ago to finally finish the thing, which I'd started long before that and had languished for years in an unfinished state before the right words helped me get in gear.
I did some things with that story that I probably won't do again. There was sexual violence against the FMC. I don't need to make her a victim to make her strong or discover her power. Yes, I did that, but not again. I had love triangles, which I was reminded of when looking at the blog Love is Not a Triangle. I also had an unintentional Standard Romance Plot (SRP, thanks again to Love is Not a Triangle blog) wherein the lady and her eventually chosen male break up near the end only to get back together with a short time to spare.
I honestly hadn't thought my story telling was so cliche. I still think that fic was a good one. My adaptation, though, has little in common with it other than a redhead who starts fires with her brain falls in love with a werewolf.