Crafting a Book

There is no mistake so great as the mistake of not going on. ~ William Blake

I am pondering the above quote by Blake. Did he mean that if we don’t make an effort this is really the biggest mistake we can make? Or, did he mean that quitting is the biggest mistake we can make? They are more or less the same concepts, although I can see more value in quitting than I can in not starting.

Today the thought of abandoning my second book seriously crossed my mind. I am so close to being done that it would be foolish to not finish. However, I know that writing the manuscript is not the hard part—revising, publishing and marketing the book takes much more effort. I entertained the thought of quitting for about five seconds. Then I went back to work.

The solution to quitting is to write. Word-by-word, sentence-by-sentence, healing and a book take shape.

Death Announcements and the Internet

Writing is both mask and unveiling. ~ E.B. White

I am in a quandary. I rely on email, the Internet, and social media. I see the value of these cyber tools, even if I sometimes feel more like a slave to them than a master. However, today I was caught off guard when I read an email telling me of the death of a dear friend. Her death was there, in a brief email, just below the subject line. The subject line was simply her name. I know this is the way we announce death these days—I myself have done this. It is no different from a newspaper obituary. However, there is something cold about words delivered electronically, whether via a Facebook posting, or even this blog. Perhaps it is the fact that reading words on an electronic screen lacks the warmth of paper. Or that it would be more comforting to learn of someone’s death from a live voice. I don’t know. What I do know is that I am doubly sad. Bereft over the loss of my friend and heartbroken to witness the hard cold facts this electronic age brings to us.

The Weight of Stories

As for my next book, I am going to hold myself from writing it till I have it impending in me:  grown heavy in my mind like a ripe pear; pendant, gravid, asking to be cut or it will fall.  ~Virginia Woolf

Virginia Woolf may have been a great writer, but I disagree with her sentiments expressed in the above quote. I don’t know when she made this remark, or if any book was written after she said this. What I do know is that Woolf was a year older than I am now when she committed suicide. Instead of a story “growing heavy in her mind like a ripe pear,” her pockets were heavy with stones as she waded into the River Ouse. In short, she, not the book, was gravid.

I think she got it wrong. I am a follower of what Anne Lamott calls, “shitty first drafts” (from Bird by Bird). Writing takes shape for me, like a sculpture. I start with a blob of words, and whittle away until I have a recognizable form. After awhile, a natural beauty emerges, born from a trust in the process and the words that glue the thoughts together. If I waited until a story was heavy in my heart, it would be a long time before I’d get anything written.

Which style calls you—Lamott’s or Woolfs? If it is Woolf’s, stay clear of water.