More on writing.
Perusing Sara Gran's blog I found some more ideas apropos to what I was writing yesterday. She is a writer that has written a couple novels, Come Closer and Dope.
...I think the meaning is clear in any case. It's great to hang out with other writers and be part of a scene; that's fine (Algren disagrees). But that's not writing. Writing is a solitary act not just literally--that's obvious--but emotionally. You don't run around worrying about what the nighbors [sic] or your fellow writers or your editor or your workshop instructor are going to think--not if you want to produce anything worthwhile. Instead, you will follow your obsessions, even if that leads you against the tide of your own time, against the current that surrounds you...
When you love books as much as I do, the life of a writer seems to be this idyllic land of cafes and intellectuals. In a word: Coolness. But being a real writer means work and work and yet again work. And that's work without the usual watercooler talk to keep it from becoming too oppressive. At least it's not mind numbing but in a way it seems to be worse. You have to be hyper-mindful, wrenching your guts out and smearing them across the blank page. Then you are left naked to be ripped apart by agents, editors, critics, Joe the guy at the at the 7-Eleven selling you a cherry Slurpy telling you that his mop water was better than what you wrote. Why would anyone, such as myself, with the skin of a grape and a spine of mush even DREAM of doing this?
Why? Because when I force myself to actually write I feel I'm using my talents they way they should be. Of course I'm constantly thinking, "This is crap why am I wasting my time?" But when I get the right words there is a contentment I don't get from much else. Like the poem wrote here last week. The contentment express there partly came from the expressing the moment and not just the moment itself. So who cares if anyone but me ever really likes this stuff.
But in the long run, if you're not expresing [sic] your true obsessions in your writing, you might as well just get an easier job.
Maybe not a job for me. Probably not. A method of keeping sane. Definitely.
...I think the meaning is clear in any case. It's great to hang out with other writers and be part of a scene; that's fine (Algren disagrees). But that's not writing. Writing is a solitary act not just literally--that's obvious--but emotionally. You don't run around worrying about what the nighbors [sic] or your fellow writers or your editor or your workshop instructor are going to think--not if you want to produce anything worthwhile. Instead, you will follow your obsessions, even if that leads you against the tide of your own time, against the current that surrounds you...
When you love books as much as I do, the life of a writer seems to be this idyllic land of cafes and intellectuals. In a word: Coolness. But being a real writer means work and work and yet again work. And that's work without the usual watercooler talk to keep it from becoming too oppressive. At least it's not mind numbing but in a way it seems to be worse. You have to be hyper-mindful, wrenching your guts out and smearing them across the blank page. Then you are left naked to be ripped apart by agents, editors, critics, Joe the guy at the at the 7-Eleven selling you a cherry Slurpy telling you that his mop water was better than what you wrote. Why would anyone, such as myself, with the skin of a grape and a spine of mush even DREAM of doing this?
Why? Because when I force myself to actually write I feel I'm using my talents they way they should be. Of course I'm constantly thinking, "This is crap why am I wasting my time?" But when I get the right words there is a contentment I don't get from much else. Like the poem wrote here last week. The contentment express there partly came from the expressing the moment and not just the moment itself. So who cares if anyone but me ever really likes this stuff.
But in the long run, if you're not expresing [sic] your true obsessions in your writing, you might as well just get an easier job.
Maybe not a job for me. Probably not. A method of keeping sane. Definitely.
posted by Jason | 9:52 PM
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