“Wild” Stayed with Me

Posted on June 19, 2012 by ltownsdin

Everyone’s writing about Cheryl Strayed’s bestselling book, Wild, From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail. Oprah even made it the first selection of her newly revived Oprah’s Book Club 2.0. Time magazine did a piece on her column in Rumpus, and Poets and Writers magazine interviewed her in its March/April edition.

Why all the buzz?

In Wild, Strayed attempted to come to terms with her beloved mother’s death by hiking the Pacific Crest Trail from the Mojave Desert through California and Oregon to Washington State. She set out alone at 26 with no experience as a long-distance hiker on a dangerous journey that ultimately helped her to heal. She battled the elements, endured blistered feet and scary encounters with two- and four-legged creatures, all while carrying a massive pack on her back.

My respect for her grew page by page as she stoically moved through each setback, planting one foot in front of the other, duct-taping her sandals, doing without food and water when she ran out, and sometimes being saved through the kindness of others.

Faith and Denial

Strayed believed absolutely that her box of money and supplies—pre-packed by her and sent by friends—would be at the right destination at the right time to sustain her along the trail. She expressed concern that bad weather might stall her arrival, or she might need to reroute, or even get lost, but she never doubted that her box would be there or even that she might not have remembered to put something crucial into the box when she packed it before setting out. And when those things did happen, she figured out how to manage. I don’t want to give away too many details because each one is an interesting part of her journey, but Strayed used her last money to buy an ice cream cone. That’s faith with just enough denial to keep going.

Fearless Honesty

I was awed at the physical risks she took as a young woman alone in the wilderness, but her fearlessness in openly talking about her life was nothing short of remarkable. To put her vulnerability, darkest secrets, deepest hurts, even her callous treatment of others under such an unrelenting light is not something most of us could do.

Strayed’s book set off a string of memories about my own life at 26, my daughter’s age now. Reeling from my father’s death and a little bit lost, I embarked on my own, much less dramatic but still courageous journey into adulthood.

Strayed’s book reminded me it’s never too late to recapture some of that youthful faith and fearlessness. I can open my heart a little more, be more vulnerable, and look at some of what I might still keep locked in its own secret room. If the author’s example is any barometer, it turns out it can’t hurt you, it can only help.

Slaves to Time

Posted on June 12, 2012 by ltownsdin

I’ve read Graham Swift’s essay, “Words Per Minute,” in Sunday’s New York Times book section three times.

Swift talked about the slowness of the craft of writing a novel compared to how quickly we read them. He said many people say they have no time to read, an anomaly when technology was supposed to create more leisure time. He says “saving time has made us slaves to speed,” but that “the absorbed experience of a novel actually removes us from the tyranny of our sense of time.”

As a writer who has been working on a couple of as yet unfinished novels for several years now, the essay made a big impact on me. I’ve felt a growing sense of the need to hurry. Some writers can finish one or even two novels a year. Others like Swift take years to finish a novel and prefer doing it that way. He called a novel “a little life within a life.” That phrase bloomed in my imagination.

What Swift’s essay means to writers like me

Looking at the writing process as creating a little life within a life brought a few questions to mind. Do we love losing ourselves in our writing for hours? Do we enjoy learning about the craft of writing? At the end of a writing session do we feel productive and creatively satisfied? Or at the very least, have we had fun?

For me, the answer is usually yes. I feel successful when I know I’ve written a good scene or even just a good sentence. I don’t think about whether the hour I labored will be read in a flash or even if it will ever be read. I’m not saying I don’t think about that. I do, just not when I’m engaged in writing. Swift’s essay reminded me not to get caught up in other people’s definitions of success.

This is Swift’s ending paragraph. I’ve pinned it to my bulletin board:

“I’m not disheartened by the thought that what takes me years to write may occupy a reader for just a few hours. To have made, perhaps, a benign intrusion into someone else’s life for even such a short duration seems to me quite a feat of communication, and if that communication becomes for readers not just a means of passing those hours, but a time-suspending experience that stays with them well after they’ve closed the book and that they might one day wish to return to, then that’s as much as any novelist can hope for.”

I hope you’ll read his entire essay. If you’re a reader or a writer it will remind you what an important part you have in the alchemy that happens between writer and reader.

Graham Swift won the 1996 Booker Prize for “Last Orders.” His most recent novel is “Wish You Were Here.”

Postcard Fiction #5

Posted on May 22, 2012 by ltownsdin

Surprise

Over the years, she willy-nilly tossed seeds, plants and bulbs into pots and flower beds.

Each spring she felt a thrill of anticipation followed by surprise and delight.

She more or less lived her entire life that way, even when the elements delivered a sucker-punch.

Photo by Artistry by Adele

Six Writing Books that Deliver a Triple Whammy

Posted on May 15, 2012 by ltownsdin

I’ve written about when to step back from devouring how-to-write books like you’re cramming for a big exam. Now I’d like to mention six books on writing that have kept me moving forward through the years. Many books on craft have been invaluable resources, but I’m not listing them here, because they’re already on most writers’ lists.

The following books woke my spirit when I first read them years ago, along with Natalie Goldberg’s Writing Down the Bones and Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird. They inspired me at a deep level and set me back on course whenever I was derailed. These are just a few:

The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. It’s one of the first I read that was a triple whammy of self-help guide, spiritual practice and specific tasks. She suggested writing three stream-of-consciousness pages every morning. As a result, I’ve been doing morning pages for twenty years. I feel unmoored if I haven’t done them before starting my day.

One Continuous Mistake by Gail Sher. Sher said, “Staying focused on who you are (with all your faults) requires maturity, perseverance and tremendous self-compassion. Act like and treat yourself as though your mind were joyful, kind and big—as though it were radiant, unlimitedly friendly and large. In reality, your true nature is such and if you treat yourself this way, you just may rise to the occasion.” It’s so easy to let negative thoughts creep in, and Sher reminds us to be our own champions.

If You Want to Write, A Book about Art, Independence and Spirit by Brenda Ueland. In her preface Ueland said, “Be Bold, be Free, be Truthful.” Simple words that can take a lifetime to achieve.

The Passionate, Accurate Story, Making your Heart’s Truth into Literature by Carol Bly. Her advice discusses writing in a moral, political and emotional context.

The Spooky Art by Norman Mailer. Best advice on what to read when you’re in the middle of writing a novel. Mailer said, “It’s disturbing to read a novelist with a good style when you’re in the middle of putting your work together. It’s much like taking your car apart and having all the pieces on the floor just as somebody rides by in a Ferrari.” I understood exactly what he was talking about even though I’ve never taken a car apart.

Writing Alone and with Others by Pat Schneider. Schneider started Amherst Writers & Artists writing workshops thirty years ago on the principal that teaching craft can be practiced without damage to the creative spirit, a writer is someone who writes, and every writer has a unique voice. I’ve written about my wonderful experience of attending an AWA writer’s group in this blog.

I’d love to hear what books on writing have inspired you on your writing journey.

How Writing with Others Made Me a Better Person

Posted on May 8, 2012 by ltownsdin

I didn’t think a writer’s group was for me. Solitude was what brought out my creative ideas. I certainly didn’t expect a writing group to help me grow as a human being.

I feel differently now.

Some days scrolling through the how-to advice on my laptop is like walking through a forest while being bombarded by squadrons of gnats. There’s no getting away from the swarm of emails, articles and blogs on craft and marketing advice about building a platform, how to use social media to improve your brand, productivity, and so on.

Granted, no one is holding a gun to my head to make me read those articles. I put the pressure on myself. I want to be a better writer (learn not to use clichés) and I want to learn more about how to reach readers. But through my writing group, I’m able to step back and find perspective.

My Amherst Writers and Artists group is an oasis of calm in a multitasking world. It’s an island where there’s no right or wrong way. We write, we read, we listen, we talk. We don’t judge. We respond to someone’s first bloom of creativity by deep listening. We often ask the writer to read the piece again, or to repeat lines. We take our time. We tell the writer what touched us, what phrase, tone, word or idea caught our imaginations. We always offer positive feedback. It’s not a critique group. What we’ve written are rough first drafts of possible poems, beginnings of short stories or new scenes for a novel or memoir. Sometimes it’s humorous, sometimes heartbreakingly sad, and always written from deep truth.

How has listening affected my life outside the writing group?

Like most of the tech-crazed people I know, I am often guilty of locking my eyes on my cell phone or staring at an overhead television at a restaurant with spouse or friends, or losing the thread of a conversation because my mind is on what I have to do next or what I’m going to say.

My writing group has reminded me to fully listen to what others are saying and to take the time to respond thoughtfully to their words. It’s not a dashed off email, or a tweet or an Instagram or Facebook post or even a blog. It’s an intimate connection. I’ve learned that it’s a gift when someone really listens to me, and I love returning that gift. It’s making me a better person and a better writer.