Remember when I wrote that there is a tremendous amount of knowledge represented on AW just waiting for the right question, asked in just the right way? No? How about the part where each of you has a story to tell? Oh, okay. Well, it was here:
That just-right question may never be asked and that would be such a loss. Open Mic in Roundtable is about that Eureka! moment. You had asked questions, you devoured articles and books on writing, but something wasn't clicking. Then, somehow and maybe in a funny sort of way, it finally did click. It could have been what everyone who seemed to be in the know meant by "show, don't tell" or "head hopping" or, really, it could have been any one of a hundred things. You might have been writing or tossing a frisbee to your dog or were in the shower. Whenever or wherever it was, that frustratingly elusive aspect of the craft suddenly made sense, and it made sense in a way you could use right away. It was exciting and you wanted to buttonhole everyone you met to tell them your discovery.
Tell us.
What was it and how did you finally 'get it'?
. . . And that set me to thinking about the nature of roundtable discussions and the sheer volume of knowledge represented here just waiting for the right question, asked in just the right way. I'm mulling over a couple of ideas for bringing out that high-level writing knowledge and experience to benefit all our fellow AWers without having to wait for that just-right question. Each of you has a story to tell about how you learned to master an aspect or portion of the craft of writing—your own Eureka! moment—and those stories have incredible value.
That just-right question may never be asked and that would be such a loss. Open Mic in Roundtable is about that Eureka! moment. You had asked questions, you devoured articles and books on writing, but something wasn't clicking. Then, somehow and maybe in a funny sort of way, it finally did click. It could have been what everyone who seemed to be in the know meant by "show, don't tell" or "head hopping" or, really, it could have been any one of a hundred things. You might have been writing or tossing a frisbee to your dog or were in the shower. Whenever or wherever it was, that frustratingly elusive aspect of the craft suddenly made sense, and it made sense in a way you could use right away. It was exciting and you wanted to buttonhole everyone you met to tell them your discovery.
Tell us.
What was it and how did you finally 'get it'?