The first Monday of the new year, and once again, I am not home. This is the fourth January in a row that I have not been home. This year, I am in San Antonio, awaiting the birth of my second grandchild who is in no rush at all, though everyone else is. Her sister […]
One of the hardest things about starting a new book is the awfulness of it. I’m there now, at the beginning, no longer thinking about the book or making notes or even writing long backstory and character pieces—which is actually one of the most fun parts of writing. If it was only that part, I would be the happiest writer in the world.
Instead, I’m actually starting to write the thing, in scenes, with characters talking and moving and all that.
This is the point of ruination. I’ve talked about this before—every book is perfect before I must try to bring it into the world. They live in some other place, in the Land of Books Waiting to Be Written, and some are mine to write and some are yours and some are still waiting for their person to get busy and bring it over into the Land of Books That Can Be Read.
As I try to bring my book over the wall into this world, I ruin it, almost from the first word.
It horrifies readers and writers alike when I say this, though I’ve never figured out quite why. I’m a devoted writer and have been devoted to the craft my whole life, but I am only mortal. How could I possibly write a perfect book? I don’t like the ruination, and I am always striving to do a better job of bringing the books over the wall, but if I am not at peace with the fact that they are all going to be flawed and ruined the minute I bring them over, I will never get them written in any form at all, and that would be far, far worse.
The fear of failure, of doing something badly, is one of the great enemies of the creative person. Of anyone really. It keeps writers from writing and artists from painting, but it also keeps many of us away from exploring new things, making new friends, expanding our lives. My tai chi teacher says over and over, in his soft thoughtful voice, “You can’t be good at something you don’t know.” But don’t we often want to do just that? To be masters at everything on the very first day?
Have been scarce finishing the new book, attending to the wedding of my younger son, and generally running from one urgent thing to the next. But I thought you’d like to know that the garden beds are going in this week! So excited. A couple of photos. The winds finally took out the twenty-five year […]
When I was a child, I loved going to summer camp. Girl Scout camp in canvas tents with wooden floors, or much more often church camp (probably because it was very inexpensive and my parents had four kids) in cabins housing 20 girls. It was the highlight of the summer—getting ready, gathering shampoo and following […]
A Martha Washington geranium that’s blooming in the living room window. I spent a good hour taking pictures of it. Very restful.
Saw these in a vintage shop on West Colorado Avenue last Saturday. Something about the colors, the ragged edge of that door, the cheery trio of smiles, the suitcase….captured me. I’m still thinking about this. Thus goes the writer brain. I have no idea why the girls are so VERY pleased with this, but they […]