Interview with Self:
Me: What are you afraid of?
Myself: I’m afraid of being a bad writer.
Me: But people have complimented you on your writing; it can’t be all bad?
Myself: Yes, but that’s after many edits.
Me: But writing is editing.
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I have tickets to see The Rolling Stones this week at a venue that is practically in my backyard. This is surely a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, yet as of right now I don’t know if I’ll attend.
It was an exciting impulse buy but even as I hit the key to purchase, the option of selling the tickets was on my mind.
This ambiguousness has become a familiar frame of mind for months now, reflected in several areas of my life including my writing or lack thereof. Floundering in a fog of second guessing and self-doubt is not a totally unfamiliar state but I generally feel more in control of decision making and moving forward.
To write is a craft.
Like any craft, there is a process or sequence of steps to create a consistently identifiable, bold and long lasting product.
The craft of making whiskey hasn’t changed much over hundreds of years and writing is the same.
To make whiskey, you need only three simple ingredients; water, barley and yeast. Yet, with so few components, there are thousands upon thousands of flavours, and just as many Coopers (those who make whiskey). Although all stories share in the same basic premise–having scenery, characters and a problem, there are innumerable genres, styles and adaptations of old story lines.
As a story writer, there are things we can learn from the process of making whiskey.
I wrote in my first novel marathon two weeks ago, in support of the Adult Education Centre in Owen Sound. The marathon was organized by the Owen Sound and North Grey Union Library but held at the Ginger Press bookstore. There were five of us in cozy quarters. There’s nothing like writing in a room full of books, whether at a bookstore, or a library. All those volumes goading you on, We did it, surely you can too…
I’m used to writing in short sprints, so the idea of a marathon was a little daunting. And I had other peoples’ expectations on me. Would I write enough to honour their donations? What was expected of me? I’d already stated that I need to sleep, meaning I wouldn’t be pulling an all-nighter.
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I like planning. I like being organized. I like being methodical, chronological, practical, predictable. It’s not in my DNA to wander the literary landscape without a map, without a plan. And yet this is exactly where I find myself after recently having completed my 13th novel (due for publication this December by Bella Books).
I am hesitant to include a lot of emotion in my writing. It seems too personal and leaves me feeling exposed. Maybe I don’t trust that the writing will ring true or even more worrisome, that it will be silly or cheesy.
It’s not that I have a burning need to write something devastating or overly sentimental but the act of writing really is baring one’s soul. Most of us just want readers to find something to connect with in our shared human experience. Theoretically I understand that, if well written, the emotional experience will belong to the characters.
As I’ve written before, I’ve taken some time off from volunteering. I’m so excited to have free time again. My intention was to spend it with my daughters, but they’re old enough to entertain themselves now, so I’m left to my own devices. And it’s wonderful! (happy dance, happy dance.) But as soon as I put my pen down on the last few tasks of 2018, I had enrolled in a writing course and work got busy and we were off, touring colleges for my oldest daughter. Read more
This was the question from my long-time, creative friend Joyce, when I shared with her my doubts about trying to write.
A fearless artist when it comes to her passions, she immediately told me, “First of all, you don’t try, you just do.”
We often go many months without being in touch but have recently set up every-other-week check-ins, maintaining a friendship that thrives on three hour phone chats.
She declared it was time for me to get back to the ‘why?’ Read more