“Are you writing the great American novel?”
UD‘s server, a thin young man in a thin cotton shirt, asked her this as he set a spinach salad in front of her at a sunny corner table at Kelly’s. UD had been writing in her notebook.
“Nope. I’m writing about writing.”
“Writing’s hard!” he said. “I’ve been trying to write a novel based on my travels. But I don’t know how to start! How to start?”
“All kinds of ways. Some people just do a kind of automatic writing which somehow if they’re lucky begins to be what they want. Other people spend weeks outlining…”
“You have to know what you want to say…”
“But not entirely. A vague sense of the general point can work. What’s more important, I think, is some particular catalyst: A person you met along the way who moved you. The hats women at an outdoor market wore. Often you gain entry to your writing and thinking through small stuff.”
And often as you lie in bed a sentence comes to you. UD wrote a poem this morning that she likes a lot so far (Ask her again when she rereads it in a day or two.), and the first line came to her as she lay in bed thinking about its subject. Really just a pure sentence-visitation. Can’t rely on those, though.
“I spend half the year here, and half in Catalina. So my surroundings are certainly inspiring…”
“Well, the other thing you need is to read. A ton.”
“I do. You know who I love? Bill Bryson. I’ve read every word of his a bunch of times. He’s hilarious.”
“And a fine prose stylist. Good choice.” UD‘s phone rang. Mr UD, giving her information about his arrival in Key West at the end of the week. “Good luck with your writing.”
“Thanks. Enjoy your salad.”
March 9th, 2009 at 4:43PM
I often give students this essay about writing when they express creative ambitions. It also mentions the phenomenon of sentence visitation.
March 9th, 2009 at 4:47PM
I’ve read bits and pieces of that essay over the years, RJO, but never, until now, the whole thing. Many thanks.