9.15.2023
Amed, Bali

Dear Friend,

Today was a bit of a slog. The lines between memory and imagination were foggy. I’ve reached the moment in the novel where I reality is about to tip into fantasy and lacing these two realms together is the trick I need to find up my sleeve.

The back of my head aches. At first I thought it was from hunger. Now I’m guessing I’ve spent too many hours staring at the computer screen this week and not enough laying on the beach with my face in the sand. Matcha green tea is keeping me company through the pages today. My progress this morning feels slow but still there is a steadiness in it. I know I can rely on myself to show up again tomorrow.

The sun is hot outside and I’m about ready to close this laptop and go get a massage. The structure of my life supports deep work and allows for full rest. I’m also looking forward to my evening workout and yoga practice at sunset. These are the moments when I’m open to receive breakthroughs and genius ideas. Solutions come to me on the yoga mat that I would never be able to squeeze out onto the page if I just sat there staring at paper.

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I am holding the story in my hands like a bunch of curious threads who are wondering what it will feel like to be tied together. They don’t know their fate and I can’t see their future. It’s scaring me just enough. I feel the power in my fingers to tell this story. I can make up anything I want. I can change who I was. I can transform something that still has not transformed. I can delete a character faster than I could kill a person. I can travel anywhere and do anything. I am god. It’s fun and terrifying to pull the trigger and make a story come to life.

When I started writing this book I was stuck in writing prose. I only knew how to string beautiful words together like a speech. I had no grasp on how to write dialogue or paint a scene. I didn’t know which style or voice to use. I was stabbing around in the dark with every paragraph. Now, as I pull old pages out of the pile for review, I have a much clearer sense of what I’m doing. I read what I wrote four months ago and edit it so it fits. What started as a lofty dreamy monologue is sculpted into an elaborate moment between two people in a fantastical location.

The game I’m playing with myself right now is exaggeration. How can I write so boldly that someone reading my work might tell me to pull back a bit? Where do I embellish? How do I take what happened and tug on pieces of it so it gets more intense and dramatic. How do I take us up to the edge so the risk increases in each moment? This is where it’s getting interesting for me, really interesting.

How do I describe two people eating sushi in a way that makes you feel like you’re about to die? How do I describe someone dancing in public so you cringe with embarrassment for them? Which words do I use to trick you?

I’m using so much mental energy to write this story that there isn’t much left over for my other work. This project is teaching me to focus and to let go of whatever is non-essential. I feel the cutting sword of sacrifice and the reward of progress. I long to make music and dance around. I think of how much fun I have when I’m performing and teaching people yoga. I really love and enjoy those activities. Running a business is fun. Traveling is fun. Watching movies and playing games is fun. And all of that is patiently watching me sit at the desk in the cafe and type a book onto the screen. This work is deeply nourishing and worth the life changes. I’ve heard many times that writing a book is transformative and right now I sense I am in the thick of it.

Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde

Dear Friend, I'm Learning to Exaggerate Prose into Scene