Months ago, I wrote about Marie Kondo’s decluttering book, which is now everywhere. Though I haven’t finished decluttering my house (side note: I did do my closet and it is still neat and clean and wonderful), the book apparently hasn’t left my brain because, oddly enough, it sparked a new writing project I’m working on.
That, and Teatro ZinZanni.
Cabaret and cirque + decluttering and organization = new novel in my world, apparently.
OK, to back up. My husband and I love Teatro ZinZanni. After training for and completing a marathon, we both have a tiny idea of how much work aerialists, trapeze folks, whatever, put in to be able to do the crazy things they do. Like marathon training, every day, and then a whole bunch more. Anyway. The tent the company uses was saved after World War II; it’s a spiegeltent, made in Belgium sometime around the turn of the 20th century, extremely popular in the 20s as roaming dance halls. Sitting there had me thinking about the history of the tent and how those performers from the 20s are, in a way, connected with the performers nearly 100 years later using the same tent.
There are hundreds of stories there, and the idea of writing something set in and around a cabaret/cirque/dinner theater is interesting.
So the clutter book.
Well, Kondo has this (kind of out there) suggestion that if you have an item you don’t really love but are still having a hard time getting rid of—maybe it was a gift, or was expensive—you should thank the object for whatever it taught you or for being a lovely gift, and then move on. Give it away.
That idea is interesting to me, too. Things that you maybe don’t want to let go of, even though they aren’t right for you anymore. Learning that it’s OK to say goodbye to perfectly good things if it isn’t serving a purpose for you, if you don’t truly love it.
Smash ’em together, and I’m working on a new story. It feels good, even though this might be the strangest way I’ve been hit with inspiration. I don’t know if it’ll ever turn into anything worthwhile, but for the moment I’m happy to be writing fiction again. … in a decluttered office.