Thoughts on writing and life for April 2021
This is an edited excerpt from my newsletter, The Writing Life, for April 2021. You can also listen to it on my Living the Writing Life podcast.
Yesterday, while I was writing my April newsletter, The Writing Life, I was also enjoying one of my favorite kitchen aromas: the smell of yeast bread as it rose.
I was baking Easter bread, or paska as my Slovak grandmother called it—a mix of real butter, eggs, vanilla, sugar, flour and enough dried yeast to give me four round loaves and one mini-rounder, just for me.
For those of you who have never baked a yeast bread, there is a necessary process that starts out with proofing the yeast. You mix the yeast with some warm water (not too warm and not too cold, but just right) and sugar and maybe a pinch of ginger. (I’m not sure why the ginger, but I throw it in because that’s how the recipe came down to me.)
Then you wait and see if it comes to life. Does it start to bubble a bit, or does it just sit there looking like dirty dishwater? If the latter occurs, then either your yeast was too old, or the water was too hot or too cold.
But if the former transpires, then you are on your way to success because that means the yeast has life. It’s bubbling over with life!
And as long as you follow the process, you should end up with a delicious loaf or two of bread.
So, in that respect, making bread and writing have a lot in common. Think of your initial idea as the packet of yeast. It looks like it should work. You think it has potential.
Then you start to develop it—"proof it,” as it were. At this stage, one of two things will happen: either it just sits there or it starts to bubble. Grow. Give off that definite air of literary life.
Of course, as you continue to write, there’s always the risk that the piece will ultimately fail to reach its full potential.
For instance, if you let it sit too long unattended, whatever life that yeast idea had will slowly die and you won’t be able to bring it back to life.
If it’s subjected to cold drafts of criticism and negative input (from you or others), it won’t grow.
The trick is to give that ball of “dough” (the words, sentences and paragraphs) just enough time and attention to keep it alive, until it’s ready to be “baked” after the final round of edits.
Then comes the delivery process: you submit your work to journals, agents, editors, publishers (whichever suits the project) and hope that your “recipe” is one that they enjoy. And want more of!
Writing is a process, just like baking bread is a process, with both delivering some form of nourishment: bread feeding the body and writing feeding the soul — making the activity well worth the effort.
(Did you enjoy this excerpt? Sign up for my newsletter, The Writing Life with Nancy Christie, and receive a free writing-related tip sheet as a bonus!)
Yesterday, while I was writing my April newsletter, The Writing Life, I was also enjoying one of my favorite kitchen aromas: the smell of yeast bread as it rose.
I was baking Easter bread, or paska as my Slovak grandmother called it—a mix of real butter, eggs, vanilla, sugar, flour and enough dried yeast to give me four round loaves and one mini-rounder, just for me.
For those of you who have never baked a yeast bread, there is a necessary process that starts out with proofing the yeast. You mix the yeast with some warm water (not too warm and not too cold, but just right) and sugar and maybe a pinch of ginger. (I’m not sure why the ginger, but I throw it in because that’s how the recipe came down to me.)
Then you wait and see if it comes to life. Does it start to bubble a bit, or does it just sit there looking like dirty dishwater? If the latter occurs, then either your yeast was too old, or the water was too hot or too cold.
But if the former transpires, then you are on your way to success because that means the yeast has life. It’s bubbling over with life!
And as long as you follow the process, you should end up with a delicious loaf or two of bread.
So, in that respect, making bread and writing have a lot in common. Think of your initial idea as the packet of yeast. It looks like it should work. You think it has potential.
Then you start to develop it—"proof it,” as it were. At this stage, one of two things will happen: either it just sits there or it starts to bubble. Grow. Give off that definite air of literary life.
Of course, as you continue to write, there’s always the risk that the piece will ultimately fail to reach its full potential.
For instance, if you let it sit too long unattended, whatever life that yeast idea had will slowly die and you won’t be able to bring it back to life.
If it’s subjected to cold drafts of criticism and negative input (from you or others), it won’t grow.
The trick is to give that ball of “dough” (the words, sentences and paragraphs) just enough time and attention to keep it alive, until it’s ready to be “baked” after the final round of edits.
Then comes the delivery process: you submit your work to journals, agents, editors, publishers (whichever suits the project) and hope that your “recipe” is one that they enjoy. And want more of!
Writing is a process, just like baking bread is a process, with both delivering some form of nourishment: bread feeding the body and writing feeding the soul — making the activity well worth the effort.
(Did you enjoy this excerpt? Sign up for my newsletter, The Writing Life with Nancy Christie, and receive a free writing-related tip sheet as a bonus!)
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