". . .talent is a dreadfully cheap commodity, cheaper than table salt. What separates the talented individual from the successful one is a lot of hard work and study; a constant process of honing.
"Talent is a dull knife that will cut nothing unless it is wielded with great force – a force so great that the knife is not really cutting at all but bludgeoning and breaking... Discipline and constant work are the whetstones upon which the dull knife of talent is honed until it becomes sharp enough, hopefully, to cut through even the toughest meat and gristle." by Stephen King from DANSE MACABRE
Consider the “talent” you bring to your writing. When did you first discover you had a “way with words”? Did it involve curiosity, a love of word that collided, meshed and made their appearance into sentences, paragraphs and stories?
Did you watch people and tell their stories? Did you pursue ideas with all your senses? Did you feel a force move you in a variety of creative directions? Did anyone recognize your propensity for writing and show you ways to study other writers? With your mentor’s assistance did you work at writing . . . really push past frustrations and dead ends to gather the words that shouted your ideas?
Creative Write: What do you think of King’s assessment of what it takes to hone writing skills? How do you define “discipline,” and “hard work”? Take time to create a metaphor that defines your writing process.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Friday, October 29, 2010
Consider the Harvest
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I would like to beg you dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.
- Rainer Maria Rilke, 1903 in Letters to a Young Poet
Autumn brings a time of vibrance and change. Glimmers of orange, crimson, magenta, and flashes of gold permeate the days. As shades of blue search for a turn, gray flannel consumes the clouds. Landscapes arouse with lightning, thunder and showers. Scents of cinnamon and cider fill the air along with aromas of wood smoke from chimneys. The breeze tastes of woodsmoke and promise.
Nature’s multiple personality during the fall season reminds us to consider possible changes and pursue, rather than judge, our writing.
It becomes a time to explore and pile questions upon questions instead of a search for answers. A pondering of “…and then what” provides possibilities. We mine for more understanding if we permit the questions to climb upon one another. They will wrestle for opportunities we have not considered.
Consider these ten questions. They will spark others as you write to them. Respond only with more questions. See what happens.
l. How would you answer Rilke’s question:
"...ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I write?"
2. How are you with your writing?
3. What biases affect your writing? The best way to combat biases involves recognizing their existence.
Will you list and write to them?
4. What amuses you about your writing?
5. How do you write about what feels wrong?
6. Do you celebrate your strengths in writing? In what ways?
7. How do you provide constructive feedback for your writing? If not, who does?
8. If you considered your heart’s desire about your writing, what would it involve?
9. What do you write away from? How can you bring it closer to you?
10. What’s the greatest question your writing nudges in you?
Take time to involve yourself with the questioning process. If it inspires an insight you would like to share, include it here for everyone to read.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Write to Discover!
Denise Leverton knew from childhood that she wanted to be a writer. When she was 17, she had her first poem published in Poetry Quarterly. She wrote, "One is in despair over the current manifestation of malevolent imbecility and the seemingly invincible power of rapacity, yet find oneself writing a poem about the trout lilies in the spring woods." She discovered ways to get beyond abstract words and share emotions metaphorically.
Leverton claimed, "I'm not very good at praying, but what I experience when I'm writing a poem is close to prayer. I feel it in different degrees and not with every poem. But in certain ways writing is a form of prayer."
Do you ever feel that your writing provides a way to release frustrations and reach a higher level of understanding of yourself and life? Today find a metaphor that gets beyond words like: despair, malevolent imbecility and rapacity. See what your writing will help you discover in a field of crimson!
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