Thursday, September 25, 2008
Another Sigh
Oh, for just one day writing day like the days of me, ten, with a yellow legal pad and a #2 pencil. That's how I used to write, all the way through high school: longhand, on a pad, often prone on the floor, or in a hammock, or in bed. And you know what? I would fill pages and pages at a time, forgetting where I was, or what I was supposed to be doing, and never once did I think to myself: Why am I doing this? What is the point of this? Not once.
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8 comments:
Oh, Amy. Thinking of you, girl. xoxoxox
Even when you are not inspired to write, you do it so well. I can see you at 10, with your yellow lined pad. So, could you do it? Just write the way you used to as a child, I mean? I know that a lot of your time is not your own but, could you sit down write-stream of conscious-without worrying about deadlines or developing characters, or projects in the works, or obligations to your blog? If you forget about all the "business" of writing and write for the joy of it, or the release of it, or the therapy of it, would it help? Be patient with yourself Amy, and hang in there!
I'm not sure you need all this positive reinforcement. Wouldn't it be better to write something, even if you end up not liking it later, than to agonize over it. Wasn't that the original point of this exercise?
Amy, you've got such a fine book in the alternating stories of your childhood and your children's childhoods. Your writing is so evocative, empathetic and it glimmers at what makes life meaningful along with everyday worries and boredom. It's real. I always want to read more. Take your posts, make them into pages and put them in order for a manuscript. That's my advice. Keep on keeping on. Uh, maybe the presidential craziness has got you down?
I'm with Sheila!
Shelia is a wonderful writer!! Just had to throw that in...
Hi Amy -- I've been reading your blog for about a month now without commenting (Brook told me about it when I decided to start a blog), and think the time has come to chime in to say that I love it. Also, I totally agree with Sheila--you have a real gift for capturing the precious in the quotidian. I've only been doing the blog thing for about a month, but already I can see that the muse does not always want to be called to perform for the internet, and some days it's just impossible to make her. I know the point of your blog is to post every day, but if you do decide it doesn't make sense to blog every day, your readers (even those unidentified lurkers) will still be here. That's what RSS feed is for, right?
Ideas evolve, Amy. Maybe the purpose of your blog is no longer so much to write each day, but, to face the challenge that you've set for yourself (with numerous witnesses).I don't think you need another ruler by which to measure whether or not you've fallen short in some way. I love going back and rediscovering entries I've read before, sometimes as much as reading the new ones. It's odd to me that your words resonate as I buy sour cherries at the farmers' market, or approach a piece of art from multiple perspectives and notice how it changes, and when I envy someone else's pants, or care for my ancient dog. I can't believe that I'd forgotten collecting (okay, stealing) blackberries in Chilmark, and making mud bricks in my yard...I don't really care why you've written these things down, or whether you're doing it every day. I just know that reading what you wrote about your mom's retirement makes me a better teacher. So what if I'm counting down the minutes to some Dionysian alone time on the roof? I know that that's okay too, because I read your blog. I'm thinking of you today.
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