"What's the most positive thing you could tell writers today?" "That it really matters that they write." --from the May/June 2010 Writer's Digest interview with Anne Lamott.
*******
It's Friday! I can't believe I made it! This week I swore I was going to do a better job at getting up on time so my writing didn't get cut short. The alarm would ring and I'd hit the snooze, still more asleep than awake. 9 minutes later. The damn alarm. Again. This time I'd scrub my eyes, groan, even thrash about and change position. Five more minutes, I'd promise, I'll get up in five. more. minutes.
I did manage to drag my sorry, tired body out of bed 15 minutes earlier than last week. 15 minutes. That's all I could manage. Then the one day the cat had thrown up during the night (can't believe I didn't hear that!), so there went my hard-won 15 minutes, cleaning up cat puke.
It was great to come home on Thursday and read the interview with Anne Lamott. To be told--by a great writer at that--that it mattered if I wrote. Made my day. Made me re-commit to writing every day. I mean, writing 2 pages a day, not just tapping out two sentences only to delete one if not both of them.
And I can't believe how true it is that when I make the time--the story is there. The characters show up. I took my shower last night, so busy thinking about the scene I had been working on just prior, that I all of a sudden realized I didn't know if I had shampooed, conditioned, or both. Then another idea occurred to me (about the beginning of the story). I got out, grabbed a towel and went to jot it all down in my journal before I forgot.
This week I realized I cannot do my best at everything at the same time. This therapy moment might have come about when my youngest daughter asked me, "If you could pick another job, what would it be?" Me: a writer. Oldest daughter: You already are that--it's your second-hand job. (isn't there a passage in the Bible about not letting the one hand know what the other is doing?)
So okay, I give. Uncle. I cannot do my best as a librarian, a mom, a writer, a wife, an exerciser (not sure that's even a word, but I certainly don't qualify for exercise guru or exercise nut), a housekeeper, and a cook. In fact, I'm pretty sure I only have the energy to do my best at one thing at a time. Don't know if I should assign days--oops, sorry honey, today's my day to do my best as a writer, not as a wife--or maybe just settle for doing everything okay.
Good thing Anne Lamott urges me to write those shitty first drafts. Now that is something I can do.
Happy Friday.
I did manage to drag my sorry, tired body out of bed 15 minutes earlier than last week. 15 minutes. That's all I could manage. Then the one day the cat had thrown up during the night (can't believe I didn't hear that!), so there went my hard-won 15 minutes, cleaning up cat puke.
It was great to come home on Thursday and read the interview with Anne Lamott. To be told--by a great writer at that--that it mattered if I wrote. Made my day. Made me re-commit to writing every day. I mean, writing 2 pages a day, not just tapping out two sentences only to delete one if not both of them.
And I can't believe how true it is that when I make the time--the story is there. The characters show up. I took my shower last night, so busy thinking about the scene I had been working on just prior, that I all of a sudden realized I didn't know if I had shampooed, conditioned, or both. Then another idea occurred to me (about the beginning of the story). I got out, grabbed a towel and went to jot it all down in my journal before I forgot.
This week I realized I cannot do my best at everything at the same time. This therapy moment might have come about when my youngest daughter asked me, "If you could pick another job, what would it be?" Me: a writer. Oldest daughter: You already are that--it's your second-hand job. (isn't there a passage in the Bible about not letting the one hand know what the other is doing?)
So okay, I give. Uncle. I cannot do my best as a librarian, a mom, a writer, a wife, an exerciser (not sure that's even a word, but I certainly don't qualify for exercise guru or exercise nut), a housekeeper, and a cook. In fact, I'm pretty sure I only have the energy to do my best at one thing at a time. Don't know if I should assign days--oops, sorry honey, today's my day to do my best as a writer, not as a wife--or maybe just settle for doing everything okay.
Good thing Anne Lamott urges me to write those shitty first drafts. Now that is something I can do.
Happy Friday.
11 comments:
Sarah;
Thanks for the "pick-me-up" quote. I should have it stenciled above my writing station. Today, I promise to get back to it.
Had a very unique experience last night. I found an American bittern, that since I found it under the powerline and it appeared to have a broken neck and wing, I assume flew into the wires. I had to look it up in a bird book. I think I read that they are rare and to find one that collided with a high tension line must be ever rarer. It made me realize there are so many critters that we never get to see up close or in hand. I looked it over for several minutes and took pictures. I was surprised it had such long "talons." Found a box turtle the week before. Not only do I need to write more, I need to take more walks. I've been busy in the garden.
I've never heard of an American bittern--going to have to look it up.
And if walks are what inspire you to write more, then get walking!
Larry,
Check out this site. http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/American_Bittern/lifehistory
Really interesting looking bird. I had no idea it was a type of heron.
Sarah,
Haven't been on here for a while, but I'm glad I stopped by. I think your entry was something I needed to see today. My mom has a quote taped to the desk behind her computer that says "Done is better than perfect." But sometimes I think "Doing is better than perfect" is acceptable too.
Robyn,
Good to hear from you. I like both your quote and your mom's. Sometimes I worry too much (Shock, I know.)And I need to be reminded to just write. That's what my writing group was telling me last night. "Just write."
Sarah;
Update on the bittern. Nothing in Nature goes to waste. Maggots and carrion beetles sent me to the net. Turns out the beetles eat the maggots and lay eggs so their young can dine on the decomposing flesh. A very small mite has a symbiotic relationship with the beetle. They too eat maggots and in return the beetles fly them to their next "restaurant." There's so much to learn and discover out there.
Larry,
Hard to think of maggots as useful--but we would be in a whole lot of stink without them!
Glad you are still discovering and writing.
Sarah, are you by chance assigning a whole week to Glen Lake?
Mark,
By chance I am. And I can't wait! A whole week of writing! It's especially sounding good right now since I have a sick kid. Hope she gets it all out of her system (literally) before I go.
Are you going to be up there as well? I hope.
Sarah, I am! Can't wait hardly! To continue what I was continuing at Khardomah, dreaming unrealistically of finishing a rough draft in a week of writing and socializing and other unrelated activities and diversions. (Realistically, I'll probably spend hours obsessing on a few paragraphs, deleting and restoring commas.)
What? Writers dreaming unrealistically? You mean you can't finish a rough draft in one week? Way to blow my fantasy.
Only a few more days--and so far, it looks like Marisa doesn't have to have surgery after all, so oh happy day!
Post a Comment