Becca Rowan's Blog - Posts Tagged "write-on-wednesday"
Write On Wednesday: What’s Next?
Long ago on another blog far away, I held a weekly writer’s roundtable every Wednesday. It was anchored by a short essay, and I invited writers to weigh in on the topic of the day. Connections were created around this table. It was where I first met Andi Cumbo Floyd, Jeanie Croope, Kerstin Martin - women with whom I continue to draw inspiration for creative work (not just writing).
Since Life In General was published, I’ve been thinking about what’s next for me in this writing practice which I depend upon, and I thought it might be fun to explore that in a new series of Write on Wednesday posts. For the past two years my writing goals were focused on putting Life In General together. It was a satisfying process and a superb learning experience. Publishing it put a cap on eight years worth of writing and tied it up nice and neatly.
But Life Goes On. That’s the theme that seems to be emerging for my online writing, the essays I write here on this blog. How do I use what I’ve learned in this decade of my 50’s and go forward with it into my 60’s? You know those guiding principles I talk about in the Afterword of Life In General? How are they working out for me as life moves forward? How will they help me handle the inevitable changes yet to come?
Beyond that, though, I feel an urgency to try something new, to start from scratch on writing something that might turn into another book. I’ve hinted at it here from time to time, I’ve made a few false starts and even have part of a “shitty rough draft.” It’s a topic that fascinates me, that makes me ponder family legacy and how it affects our personalities and the choices we make for our own lives. It’s also about roads not taken, and how our lives are steered by what we don’t do as much as what we do.
But there is much work ahead, and much to think about. I’m reading a lot right now, reading even more memoirs than I usually do (which is saying a lot). But I’m reading them with an eye to form and structure and voice, rather than immersing myself solely in the story. I’m studying books about writing memoir, starting with my friend Beth Kephart’s challenging text Handling the Truth. And it is challenging me - to think and re-think every early assumption I made about this project, with an eye on the “universal question” within which to frame it.
But it’s all good. I’m not in a hurry.
It feels like a hike in the wilderness on a cool spring day. A fresh breeze tingles on my skin, clouds scuttle across the blue sky above, my feet crackle and crunch on the forest path, one step after the next, my gait steady but unhurried. The day is long, there is plenty of sunlight, and much to see and hear. I’m simply enjoying the walk.
That’s what’s next for me.
Writer and artist friends: What’s next for you?
Since Life In General was published, I’ve been thinking about what’s next for me in this writing practice which I depend upon, and I thought it might be fun to explore that in a new series of Write on Wednesday posts. For the past two years my writing goals were focused on putting Life In General together. It was a satisfying process and a superb learning experience. Publishing it put a cap on eight years worth of writing and tied it up nice and neatly.
But Life Goes On. That’s the theme that seems to be emerging for my online writing, the essays I write here on this blog. How do I use what I’ve learned in this decade of my 50’s and go forward with it into my 60’s? You know those guiding principles I talk about in the Afterword of Life In General? How are they working out for me as life moves forward? How will they help me handle the inevitable changes yet to come?
Beyond that, though, I feel an urgency to try something new, to start from scratch on writing something that might turn into another book. I’ve hinted at it here from time to time, I’ve made a few false starts and even have part of a “shitty rough draft.” It’s a topic that fascinates me, that makes me ponder family legacy and how it affects our personalities and the choices we make for our own lives. It’s also about roads not taken, and how our lives are steered by what we don’t do as much as what we do.
But there is much work ahead, and much to think about. I’m reading a lot right now, reading even more memoirs than I usually do (which is saying a lot). But I’m reading them with an eye to form and structure and voice, rather than immersing myself solely in the story. I’m studying books about writing memoir, starting with my friend Beth Kephart’s challenging text Handling the Truth. And it is challenging me - to think and re-think every early assumption I made about this project, with an eye on the “universal question” within which to frame it.
But it’s all good. I’m not in a hurry.
It feels like a hike in the wilderness on a cool spring day. A fresh breeze tingles on my skin, clouds scuttle across the blue sky above, my feet crackle and crunch on the forest path, one step after the next, my gait steady but unhurried. The day is long, there is plenty of sunlight, and much to see and hear. I’m simply enjoying the walk.
That’s what’s next for me.
Writer and artist friends: What’s next for you?
Write On Wednesday: On Desire
“I think you should write another book,” my mother said to me the other day when I started to whine about the long winter days with nothing fun to do. In fact, I almost uttered the “B” word, that one which never passes my lips. (Bored? Me?? Hardly.)
“Well, it’s not that simple,” I replied a bit peevishly. “It takes a lot of work to write a book from scratch."
“I’m sure it does,” she replied. “But you’ve already done it once, I imagine you could do it again if you really wanted to."
I opened my mouth to answer back, then closed it again. She was right, of course. Darn mothers anyway, always knowing their stuff like that.
I COULD DO IT IF I REALLY WANTED TO.
In my very small way, I’ve been stricken with second book syndrome. Life In General turned out to be a surprising and gratifying little success. And although I’ve had ideas for another book gnawing at me for a couple of years, and had plans to commence working on it as soon as Life In General was out in the world, I haven’t made a dent in it. Truth? I’m afraid. Afraid this one won’t turn out as well. Afraid to start from the beginning. Afraid of the kinds of things I might have to confront in order to tell this story. Afraid I don’t have the talent or the self discipline it takes to tell it at all.
Perhaps a more appropriate title for this post would be On Fear.
Fear and Desire are yoked together in my writing world these days. It reminds of times when I’m walking the dogs and they are out ahead of me at the end of their long leashes - suddenly they will pull up right against one another, their sides actually rubbing, and walk for 100 feet or so as if stuck to each other with velcro. Then one of them (usually Magic) will pull away and take the lead and leave the other behind. But for a moment it’s as if they need the security of being side-by-side on this adventure, of knowing the other one is there.
Fear is not always unhealthy. Knowing what we’re afraid of helps have the strength to overcome it. But Desire. Well that is the fuel for every fire, be it making a book, falling in love, raising a child, painting a room, cooking a meal.
You have to Want It. Really Want It.
Beth Kephart, whose book Handling the Truth is my study guide these days, reminds me that “we can only write toward our obsession.” In her blog post the other day, she describes thinking about a new book as a “strange existence of wading through the formidable dark toward a fledgling, heartbreaking story.”
It can’t be about Fear. It must be about Desire. Compulsion. Obsession. An itch to tell the story. “The thing that teases the mind over and over for years, and at last gets itself put down rightly on paper - whether little or great, it belongs to literature.” (Sarah Orne Jewett). It’s not only a willingness but a need to wander into the forest of memory and experience and truth.
So I need to turn those fearful thoughts on their head, pull them away from my side where they’ve been rubbing me the wrong way and holding me back. Let Desire take the lead. Scratch that itch to tell a story, the one that’s been teasing me every since I was a little girl. Let myself be obsessed with it.
Really Want It.
And then Do It.
“Well, it’s not that simple,” I replied a bit peevishly. “It takes a lot of work to write a book from scratch."
“I’m sure it does,” she replied. “But you’ve already done it once, I imagine you could do it again if you really wanted to."
I opened my mouth to answer back, then closed it again. She was right, of course. Darn mothers anyway, always knowing their stuff like that.
I COULD DO IT IF I REALLY WANTED TO.
In my very small way, I’ve been stricken with second book syndrome. Life In General turned out to be a surprising and gratifying little success. And although I’ve had ideas for another book gnawing at me for a couple of years, and had plans to commence working on it as soon as Life In General was out in the world, I haven’t made a dent in it. Truth? I’m afraid. Afraid this one won’t turn out as well. Afraid to start from the beginning. Afraid of the kinds of things I might have to confront in order to tell this story. Afraid I don’t have the talent or the self discipline it takes to tell it at all.
Perhaps a more appropriate title for this post would be On Fear.
Fear and Desire are yoked together in my writing world these days. It reminds of times when I’m walking the dogs and they are out ahead of me at the end of their long leashes - suddenly they will pull up right against one another, their sides actually rubbing, and walk for 100 feet or so as if stuck to each other with velcro. Then one of them (usually Magic) will pull away and take the lead and leave the other behind. But for a moment it’s as if they need the security of being side-by-side on this adventure, of knowing the other one is there.
Fear is not always unhealthy. Knowing what we’re afraid of helps have the strength to overcome it. But Desire. Well that is the fuel for every fire, be it making a book, falling in love, raising a child, painting a room, cooking a meal.
You have to Want It. Really Want It.
Beth Kephart, whose book Handling the Truth is my study guide these days, reminds me that “we can only write toward our obsession.” In her blog post the other day, she describes thinking about a new book as a “strange existence of wading through the formidable dark toward a fledgling, heartbreaking story.”
It can’t be about Fear. It must be about Desire. Compulsion. Obsession. An itch to tell the story. “The thing that teases the mind over and over for years, and at last gets itself put down rightly on paper - whether little or great, it belongs to literature.” (Sarah Orne Jewett). It’s not only a willingness but a need to wander into the forest of memory and experience and truth.
So I need to turn those fearful thoughts on their head, pull them away from my side where they’ve been rubbing me the wrong way and holding me back. Let Desire take the lead. Scratch that itch to tell a story, the one that’s been teasing me every since I was a little girl. Let myself be obsessed with it.
Really Want It.
And then Do It.
