Author: Fallton Havenstonne

Reading Slow or Fast

Fallton Havenstonne

I read slow when I’m reading fiction, mainly because I don’t want to miss any details, and because I want to learn about the characters and understand what’s happening. Usually if I’m reading a novel fast, I’ll have to double back and reread previous passages just to know what’s going on.

I read fast mostly when I’m reading non-fiction. I’m essentially skim through it, honing in on the information I want to learn, the key points and facts. This goes for news articles, textbooks, brochures, etc.

But whether it’s non-fiction or fiction, the writing really dictates if I’m reading slow or fast. If the author’s style is eloquent, clear, and even humorous, I want to appreciate it, and thus, I’m willing to take my time reading it. But if I find myself bored with a story or an article, I will skim it for the sake of finding the next exciting part.

Setback

Fallton Havenstonne

A setback can hinder us from completing our work, or put a ding in our budget. It can come in the form of house maintenance, car repair, illness, or an unexpected emergency.

Setbacks usually delay us for just awhile. The hard thing is to pick up where we left off after the setback is over. More often than not, a project (such as a book) relies on momentum–a steady stream of progress. But when there is a setback, it can delay the project for days, weeks, months, even years.

A setback is an inconvenience, for sure, but there is a silver lining to it. It can make us look at the larger problem–one that we’ve ignored. It can make us reevaluate what we’ve been doing, and to fix our mistakes. Lastly, it might be what we needed in some instances–if we were going down the wrong path.

Reading

Fallton Havenstonne

When we lose interest in a story, it’s hard to dive back into it. It becomes dreadful to pick up–to even think about. Reading the book becomes more like a chore than something we look forward to doing.

There can be many reasons why. The plot is moving too slow. It’s too wordy. Nothing is really happening in the story. The writing doesn’t hook us. Or the conflict is essentially nonexistent. At some point, we will lost interest if a book falls into either one of these categories. We won’t even think about it again.

Only when the story surprises us, or takes our imagination elsewhere, are we engaged in the book. It’s only then that we increase our focus, and spend late nights reading it. And when each chapter gives us a glimpse into something new and mysterious, we’ll work our way through it, even the slow parts, just to see what happens at the end.

Music

Fallton Havenstonne

Hearing a song can conjure emotions in a way that neither a book nor a painting can. The melodies, the lyrics, when they work harmoniously, can conjure memories and thoughts like a scene from a movie, or a dreamlike experience.

It can also help us to imagine, to intensify our vision of a story we want to tell. It can elevate our visual experience to something that is profound (i.e. soundtracks, film scores). It can heighten a moment’s grandiosity, making it almost larger than life (i.e. a graduation ceremony or a wedding). And it can unite people to common state of mind, a common feeling (i.e. music concerts). Music can be the centerpiece of an event, or it can be a supplement to it.

When we listen to it with headphones and with our eyes closed, we immerse ourselves in a sonic space–a universe of notes, sounds, lyrics, riffs, etc. Music has a power that is immediate, direct, like the touch of water. It has no limit to how it can affect us, yet, it speaks to each of us differently.

Posted in Art

Pick and Choose

Fallton Havenstonne

It’s hard to pick and choose sometimes. A meal on a menu. What to drink. A new or used car to buy. To go out and eat or not. Or to spend 4 years finishing a major that might not be as worthwhile as another.

To pick and choose comes with commitment, a certainty about a choice–to a degree. There’s an opportunity cost to any decision. Something gained, something lost.

And that’s we get in the end. We gain and lose. A path not taken, a path that is taken. Regrets and blessings. It’s part of the reality of choice. Nothing’s for certain, except we have to pick and choose.

Can’t Stop Writing

Fallton Havenstonne

Your stomach grumbles, but you’re on a roll. You can’t stop writing. The scene is too good to stop writing. You can feel your mouth dry, feel your stomach empty, tasting food that isn’t even there.

But you don’t want to lose the momentum. Keep it going–just a few more paragraphs–a couple more pages.

You write for another minute, then two, then three, then ten, then thirty.

You feel dizzy, craving food, thinking about it nonstop. You can see chips and burgers and salad flashing before your eyes–beckoning you to stop. The chapter is almost over though. You tell yourself that you can’t stop until you finish this chapter. Just a few more lines–a few more sentences.

And just when you’re about to reach the last sentence, you think of a dozen other things to add–more scenes to write. But your writing is getting sloppy now, even incoherent. This isn’t your best writing–you know that–but you just want to get it all down. All down before your ideas run out, before–

You’re overwhelmed by hunger. You’ve put off food for too long. Just a little snack now. Or maybe a meal. I’ll get back to the story later.

No Pen, nor Paper

Fallton Havenstonne

It’s a horrible feeling to not have pen or paper when you have a great idea. It could happen when you’re driving, walking down the street, or doing some yard work–anywhere where a pen and pencil are out of reach.

That great idea clicks in your mind like a missing piece to a jigsaw puzzle. It’s so profound that you slam the break on what you’re doing. And while it’s fresh in your mind, waiting to be noted–waiting to be worked on, you know you have to write it down.

But there is no pen, nor paper. Nothing to write with, nothing to record it on.

You gasp in horror, shaking your head like you should’ve kept the pen behind your ear or in your pocket. I know I should’ve kept the pen on me. And where is that moleskin notebook? Where is that receipt from yesterday?

As you panic in search of a pen and paper, the idea begins to slip away, buried deeper every second beneath the adrenaline that has taken over. It’s like a butterfly that lands on your hand, and you’re looking for your camera to take a picture of it, but at any second, it will fly away and disappear into the sunset.

And then it flies away.

And at that point, you’ve just found your pen in the drawer, the backend of an envelope to write on. But what were you about to write? What was it that put you in panic mood and made you grab that pen and paper in the first place? A great idea, of course. But what was it?

Novelty

Fallton Havenstonne

When we buy something new such as a new computer or TV, the novelty of having it will feel like it will last forever. But with time, the novelty will wear off.

When we become so fixated on wanting something, we elevate its value so high that it drives us to get it immediately. Our vision of having it seems like it will solve all of our needs. But after we have it, it will become all too familiar. Just another thing we have–another thing we possess.

To put things into perspective, we must not look at this new thing as if it will fix and solve everything. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t have any value, however. Rather, it serves a specific need, whether that is bringing a little comfort, convenience, or joy to our life.

It’s kind of like wanting to read a new book or wanting to watch a new movie. After the experience is over, we feel happy, overjoyed even. But sooner or later, the novelty will wear off. And then it’s on to the next thing . . .

Surprised

Fallton Havenstonne

When we’re surprised, our nerves spike, and we become alert and hyper-vigilant. A surprise can come out of nowhere, such as a loud noise like a balloon pop, or in a movie when a monster jumps out onto the screen with a thunderous roar.

But in books, the surprise has a very different effect. It’s a surprise that’s created in the mind, in the imagination. It has the effect of overturning our expectations, giving us the chills (goosebumps), even spinning the wheels of our mind’s eye as it tries to process what’s going on (the twist, the irony, etc.).

Being surprised in this way is kind of like having an epiphany: seeing something we didn’t know was possible, seeing something in a completely new way. It’s a revelatory surprise–one that keeps us turning the pages of the book to find out what the next surprise will be.