Jump!

 

Word count: 361                     Reading time: 1-2 minutes

Kingsley Amis said of Dylan Thomas: “A pernicious figure, one who has helped to get Wales and Welsh poetry a bad name…and done lasting harm to both.”

Paul Theroux reviewed Erica Jong’s novel Fear of Flying in a similar tone: “This crappy novel, misusing vulgarity to the point where it becomes purely foolish, picturing women as a hapless organ animated by the simplest ridicule, and devaluing imagination in every line…represents everything that is to be loathed in American fiction today.”

That’s the thing about writing – no matter how good you are, someone will disapprove and will not mind broadcasting their contempt. It’s very much a leap of faith to work and hope that someone, some day, somewhere, will eventually value what has taken you months or years to produce. 

When you decide to write, you have to grow a thick hide so that people’s thoughtless comments don’t stop you in your tracks. I gave one of my first short stories to an online critique group and an American writer replied, in clearly challenging tones, that he’d never heard of the bird called a crimson rosella. Because that one detail was inauthentic to him, he took it as grounds to tear apart the rest of the work. I shrank at his criticism – for a little while. Then I quit the group and continued writing for the benefit of one close friend and my darling husband. Nervously I sent the next two stories to a competition where they received minor awards. The point is, if I hadn’t been resilient and just a little bit brave, I might have stopped writing altogether.

Imagine if Dylan Thomas had let Amis’s criticism stop him or if Jong had tossed writing because of Theroux’s fine sensibilities. Maybe you’re the next literary sensation but how will you know if you don’t just jump in and do it?  And keep doing it…

Soren Kierkegaard said, “To dare is to lose one’s footing momentarily. Not to dare is to lose one’s life.”

Do unkind comments from any of your early readers haunt you still? What helps you dare to continue?

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Photos by: Oleg Kozlov (above) & Kafusfoto

Theoretically speaking

Word count: 318                                                                                       Reading time: 1 minute +

When I first confided to a photographer friend that I had started writing fiction, he shook his head.

“An accountant? Writing fiction?” he said. “I don’t know about that combination.”

I was confident enough to ignore his doubt and charge on through. I figured out back in grade 8 or so that math demands a lot of imaginative problem-solving. Furthermore, anyone who has ever tried to tame the complex tendrils of a business operation into the few thin lines of a balance sheet knows how much creative thinking is involved.

Recently I watched Constraints and Creativity in Mathematics and Fiction, by Dr. Hannu Rajaniemi author of The Quantum Thief. Rajaniemi says that mathematics and writing both create something out of nothing. He urges writers to consider the parallels. Both mathematics and writing:

• are not about the numbers,
• conceive of different realities,
• look at the relationship between the imaginary things and draw conclusions from what is studied and
• should create something beautiful.

After I watched the video I lost myself down a rabbit hole, looking at relationships between mathematics and art. I discovered that because mathematics is the basis of all sound, music theorists often use it to understand music. Mathematics and visual art have a relationship that dates back to the ancient Egyptians and Greeks who defined the golden ratio to describe something that was aesthetically pleasing.

I’m not saying that all mathematicians can be writers (or painters or musicians) or vice versa. I’m suggesting that creativity is a force that once unleashed in one area of our lives will spill into all others. And let’s face it, a huge part of creativity is just hard work, lots of practice, and a mountain of perseverance.

What outside, non-core skills have helped your writing? Were you a midwife or a soldier before you picked up a pen? How have creative habits from another discipline advanced your development?

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Photo by: Alan Bolitho

The Busy-ness of Writing

Word count: 376                        Reading time: 1-2 minutes

When I qualified as a Certified General Accountant I knew my education didn’t stop with the parchment handed out at the graduation ceremony. Being a member of the CGA Association meant that in addition to the usual long work week, I was expected to complete defined courses of professional development every year to keep my skills relevant. Then I chucked it all to become a writer.

My second career evolved slowly because there was no clear route to what ensures success as a writer. After a lot of time invested and an enormous amount of trial & error, the only thing I know for sure is that a writer needs, at some point, do some or all of the following:

1. Write
2. Research
3. Read extensively
4. Go back to school
5. Find a trusted writing partner or two and share your work with them
6. Rewrite
7. Give generously of your time to other writers who need help and encouragement
8. Revise
9. Polish the revision
10. Submit and track your submissions
11. Repeat steps 1-10 – stick with it
12. Join at least one writers’ group
13. Attend writers’ talks (local library, university, writers’ festival – wherever)
14. Build an online profile
15. Build a profile in your local community
16. Stay healthy
17. Play; renew the energy that brings freshness to your writing
18. Track related income (if you’re lucky) and expenses for your tax return
19. Repeat any or all of the above as required.

Once my first novel is released, what then? Well I expect there’ll be a whole 'nother list that comes along. I’ll post it later, when I have a better sense of all that's involved.

When I did the mind map for this blog (thank you Daphne Gray-Grant), I was astonished at the commitment of time and resources involved in writing. My CGA training pales in comparison to what it takes to be a writer, but this is so much easier. You know why, don’t you? Because pleasure in the job puts perfection in the work. Aristotle said that and he knew a thing or two.

What's on your list and what's missing from mine? Is there something I should be doing that I’m not?  

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Photo by: Uschi Hering

Do you see what I see?

Word Count: 382                   Reading time: 1-2 minutes 

In an interview for Writers Almanac, Marge Piercy explained her recommendation that the best gifts for writers are field guides to rocks, stars, birds, amphibians, and wildflowers:

Imagery comes directly out of your own core. It comes from how you perceive the world, how carefully you look and listen, how well you remember, how your mind works. What we have to draw on is largely dependent on how much attention we've paid to what's within and outside of us. Learning to pay attention: looking at shades of green. Not all trees are green, and even those that are differ wildly. How many birds can you identify? In other words, how many times have you looked carefully at a bird? Can you tell by the weeds and wildflowers growing in a meadow if it is dry or wet, good soil or scanty, sweet or acid? How does the bark of a beech differ from the bark of an elm? The bark of a black cherry? The bark of a Scotch pine from that of a pitch pine?

As I leave Salt Spring Island after a week’s visit, I can say that I’ve observed a lot. However if I told you I could pick the difference between the trunk of a birch and that of a poplar, I’d be lying. Throw an alder in the mix and I’m more confused than ever. Still, I’m curious and this is good according to Piercy who added:

The wider your curiosity ranges, the more interesting metaphors will rise. Memory and observation can be trained to precision and retention.

In the past week I have learned that of the three species of blackberry here, only the Rubus Ursinus (Native Trailing Blackberry) belongs. The other two (Himalayan / Armenian and Cutleaf) are highly invasive. I can also name the tiny dragonfly that hovered over the lily pads as we swam in Stowell Lake (blue dasher). That’s modest progress.

Piercy encourages writers to broaden their general knowledge. So now I’m going to try to identify the gold-banded spiders that just spent twenty minutes mating outside my window (watch the video here). If I don’t surface for a day or so, please unplug my modem.

What quirk of nature has intrigued you recently? Where has that taken you with your writing?