On January 10, 2015, I started reading Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. It was in the Pandora’s box of writing books that my dad gave me for Christmukkah last month.
By the second page of the Introduction, I was hooked, but what I did not realize until
several pages later, was that this woman I’d never heard of before would rip
carefully placed bandages off my well-guarded heart.
When I
finish each page, I feel like an open-minded but vulnerable onion that's had a
layer ripped off of it. It's enlightening, but kind of hurts. Every couple
pages she states that writing won't bring me glory and fame, which I keep
telling myself is fine (but in the back of my mind I know I am lying and will
probably spend a couple years pouting about this), but she insists that all the
hard work (the self-doubt, the hours spent looking at a blank screen, or worse,
a screen filled with words you hate and don’t want to ever see again, much less
meticulously edit) is not only worth it, but necessary. Writers need to get
their thoughts out, so despite how terrible a writer one is, they need to do
this. They need to pointlessly ramble on for pages and pages to eventually
achieve something. For very few, that something is publication, but for others
it is a sense of temporary relief because their stories, whether real or
imagined, have finally flitted from their birdcage minds to the freedom of the
open page.
Often, that
page in their notebook or on their personal computer is the furthest those
freedom-hungry words will ever go. And Anne Lamott says that is perfectly fine.
My goals
during this journey of self-discovery through reading a mountain of books about
writing are:
- To gradually improve my [poor] writing skills by forcing myself to write often, even when I don’t feel like it (which is what I did just now, and boy am I glad I did because apparently I had a lot to say about the 30 pages I read today). Learning to write is like learning to… well do almost anything – play a violin, or tennis, or World of Warcraft. You gotta practice. A lot. (Yes, gamers have to spend hours upon hours playing video games before they’re able to effectively pwn n00bs. It is a relevant example. So shut up.)
- To accept the very real possibility that I will probably never, ever get published, at least not traditionally. And if I do decide to self-publish, my novels may not do well. At all. Basically, I have to come to terms with the fact that E.L. James will always be a richer and more famous author than I will ever be, despite that, in literary terms, the 50 Shades of Grey series is completely and utterly…. (need to stop myself here because I could write a whole book about my thoughts regarding of the quality of the writing in her colorful trilogy). However, this isn’t to say that my dream of being published traditionally or at least, enjoy similar success from self-publishing, will ever vanish, regardless of how many rejection letters I receive.
- To learn as much as possible about the old, mysterious, magical art of writing from experienced, talented people who love it. To swallow and absorb every word so I can remember what I learned. And keep doing that, page after page, book after book.
