When I first tried my hand at writing many years ago, I met tremendous resistance.
From within.
Each time I'd find myself "stuck," an insistent voice from within would suggest I was missing an essential piece of knowing--the acquisition of which would mean the difference between publication and rejection; the voice within would encourage me to immediately lay aside my writing to inquire, "But, how?"; it would urge me not to resume writing until after I'd found the elusive answer to questions such as these: "How might I carve out the perfect environment in which to write?" "How can I precisely communicate this idea?" "How do I know when I have 'too many' hyphenated words within one paragraph?" "How did I ever presume to write--just who do I think I am?" "How will I get that stain out of the carpet on the other side of the room?"
More often than not, I'd immediately suspend my writing, push back from the keyboard, and drive down the hill to the book store. There I would find shelf after shelf full of titles, each promising to answer the every "how" of aspiring writers.
Now, with all due respect to the likes of Anne Lamont, Heather Sellers, and even Stephen King, I'm curious about writers who write for aspiring writers. I sometimes--and, yes, cynically--imagine they've written an instructional volume because they've run out of any other profitable ideas.
Over time, and having purchased scores of books on the craft of writing, I've come to an unanticipated "aha!" When I find myself reflexively asking, "How?"--regardless of the discipline--perhaps I'd do better to declare, "Of course!"
Mightn't it be possible that asking, "How?," is in reality a quasi-noble, angst-filled justification not to write, not to work on a bad habit, not to paint, not to go to the doctor, not to exercise, not to pray, not to play the piano, not to adjust my strategic plan, not to work on a relationship, not to, well, you get the idea.
So, I'm curious, where's the place in your life where your conscience compels you to action, and you--with a philosophic air--procrastinate by positing, "Ah, of course, but how?" What would it look like to cut off the question after, "Ah, of course!"
By the way, if you're an aspiring writer looking for answers, I'll make you a deal on a number of slightly used but remarkable books that are likely just what you need...
|