The writing process

Notes from my notebook, circa early 21st century

Thoughts pop into your head at the most unlikely times: in the middle of the night (not so unlikely, actually), while working out, in the shower, on the toilet, walking down the road, playing with your child, right after your cat has settled in comfortably on your lap and your notebook is out of reach. Whatever the time, no matter, you’re all-too-often not in a position to get your thoughts down somewhere.

And then when it comes time to sitting and writing…

…your mind goes blank.

The thoughts get lost.

From an otherwise unremarkable article, this opening sentence:

‘A bleak fact of writing is that honing sentences is often far easier than honing the thoughts they convey. A corollary fact is that polished, elegant prose serves as a useful, if not always intentional, hiding place for half-baked ideas.’ (The Literature of the Pandemic Is Already Here, The Atlantic)

The more I write, the more I want to write, the more that bubbles up in my head…it’s self-perpetuating. Most of my ideas are probably half-baked.

Around mid-March, just as the lockdown set in here in Ukraine, it wasn’t that I necessarily had more free time. Far from it. But I felt compelled to write more, which I’ve done. 

I made half-promises (to myself? to my readers?) that I’d write more frequently, in shorter bursts, which I’ve sort of, kind of done.

I learned long ago to stop making promises and resolutions to write more. What year was it that I said I was going to write a post a week, with a 1000-word limit, with 52 succinct posts by the end of the year?

Often I ask myself: why do I write? What was my original goal way back when?

I remember, in fragments. To keep my friends in the loop. It had a small, dedicated audience of a handful. It was meant to save me the ‘bother’ of having to keep in touch with individual emails. Some sort of epistolary style, told in stages, searching for a voice. 

It went in different directions. I picked up more of an audience, a wider one. Some have come and gone. I look at some of my early commenters, who left frequent comments after my posts, in the early days, and I wonder if they still read. (Do you?)

I go for an eclectic approach. 

This will sound cheesy, but I now think about writing here for posterity, for my daughter to read one day. One day she might – might – want to know a bit about what a crazy old fool her daddy was when he was young, reckless and full of nonsense.

‘One longs to have a bit of immortality somewhere.’
Excellent Women, Barbara Pym

My old ‘friend’ Morgan Housel captures this so well (as he always does):

For writers: few things harder than deleting parts you worked hard on but didn't need to be there.

For readers: few things better than an author leaving out the parts that didn't need to be there.

— Morgan Housel (@morganhousel) July 7, 2020

I try to let these thoughts guide me. Not so successfully, much of the time, but I’m working on it.

Going back through my notes, journals, diaries, notebooks from 2005/2006-onwards…I see shopping lists, books I noted down to read and amazingly, years later as I flip through, I tick off books I’ve read, not even realizing I’d wanted to all those years ago. And there are lots of notes and lots of quotations.

‘The man who doesn’t read good books has no advantage over the man who can’t read them.’ (Mark Twain)

It’s not rocket science: my approach to reading is that when I come across something wise or profound, I write it down. Or, make a note of it, I should say. I used to scribble down notes. I’ve been lazy over the years and made notes in the margins of books, or underlined portions, with the intent of writing them down later. But those books are all over the place and that’s a gargantuan task that I don’t think I’ll ever get round to, first tracking all the books down, then scouring them for notes.

Many, however, I have taken the time to type up, in various files on my computer. I forget about these and only when I go back and peruse do I realise that there’s some good stuff there.

Then the Kindle came along and I highlighted passages. Most of those highlights are probably floating in the cloud, a pain to track down.

I guess now there are screenshots and embedded Tweets. 

What next?

If you’ve been with me on this journey from the beginning (February 2009), you’ve no doubt seen so many of the quotations and references I’ve shared. 

Re-reading some of my old material, it’s quite uncanny how often I’ve regurgitated old stories, old quotations, put a new spin on things. Half the time, I have little recollection of having written it in the first place. 

Here’s another one I posted at some point in the last few years, in typed form (from my notebook in 2005), with one of my well-worn/worn-out themes:

I have one steadfast rule that I never, ever waver from: when in need of a good quotation, I don’t go searching for one. I use only what I’ve discovered in my own good time. And very often, there is that perfect quotation that I know I have somewhere, but I’m just not sure where.

And then there are the endless ones I’ve forgotten about altogether, and see months later, after a particular post, and think ‘damn, that would’ve been perfect.’

For eleven (11!) years I’ve been keeping this blog up and running and have covered so many topics and when I write about stuff that bugs me like pet hates and whatnot, and then it happens to me in real life I get exasperated and think ‘damn, do I have to deal with this, how do I put up with this, have you not read the post I wrote in May 2013 that dealt with this very nuisance?’ Damn you!

I’m certain, absolutely certain I once shared this quotation from Cyril Connolly:
"Better to write for yourself and have no public than to write for the public and have no self."

I come back to this thought time and time again when I wonder what direction this blog is going in, and why I write it.

I was once asked, going through a particularly long dry spell of not writing, why I didn’t write more. And I think I said something about finding the time and motivation. And then I was asked how much time I spent reading every day. The answer has varied over the years, but let’s just say I answered ‘an hour and a half, maybe two.’ And that person said ‘well, isn’t that enough time to write?’

I can’t recall my exact answer.

I’m not sure whether my answer was as good as the time I was asked a similar question, this time about why I didn’t go to the gym or work out more. When I muttered the same response about lacking the time and motivation, and then got the same follow-up question about how much time I spent reading, I responded thus:

‘Right, so how about this – I spend 15 minutes walking to the gym or to the park to go for a run. I work out for 5-10 minutes, then come home. An hour later, I go back to the gym or the park, to exercise for 10-15 minutes. I return home. I skip using the toilet and reading for 5 minutes so that I can lift a few weights instead. Get ready for work. Get on the metro and work out a bit more. I lie down in the middle of a metro carriage and do my planks or sit-ups. I stretch in the middle of the train, while other commuters look at me like I’m nuts. I work for a few hours. Come home, on the metro again. Do some more stretches on the train, sprint up and down the carriage for 10-15 minutes.’

When my interlocutor looked perplexed, I said ‘must I state the obvious? I just gave you my usual daily reading routine.’

‘When a man writes from his own mind, he writes very rapidly. The greatest part of a writer’s time is spent in reading, in order to write: a man will turn over half a library to make one book.’
James Boswell’s Life of Samuel Johnson

I’ll keep at it.


A challenge to you, my readers

On the topic of promises I can’t keep

I recently shared some of my dearest readers’ valuable contributions and in August, with the start of my month off work, I want to give myself some type of challenge. Social media has been full of various ‘challenges’ over the past few months as people tried to amuse and entertain each other during these troubled times and this is not akin to some of those, but something a bit different.

Ideas are not my problem – I have no shortage of ideas for what I want to write. I keep adding to the list. 

I want to write as much as I can in August. I thought about a 10-day challenge, to post once a day for 10 straight days. But I’ll be away here and there over the month, and when I’m on the road, I’m computer-less. So I suppose I can aim for 10 posts over 31 days, roughly one every three days.

The challenge/request from you, dear readers: 
* are there any topics you’d like me to cover? Is there anything you’re dying to hear my opinion on?
* are there questions you’d like me to address? I could do a sort of ‘mailbag column’.
* would you like to contribute anything? The theme is up to you. The post can be all yours or we can share it.
* any other ideas, any and all are welcome.

Thanks in advance.


The reading process

What I’ve been reading:
Meditations, Marcus Aurelius
The 48 Laws of Power, Robert Greene
Excellent Women, Barbara Pym
Bear in Mind These Dead, Susan McKay
Dancing Bears: True Stories of People Nostalgic for Life Under Tyranny, Witold Szablowski

 


Letters from a Self-Made Merchant to His Son, George Horace Lorimer

From this last book, a sample extract, which is referred to as ‘Being the Letters written by John Graham, Head of the House of Graham & Company, Pork-Packers in Chicago, to his Son, Pierrepont, facetiously known to his intimates as 'Piggy.'

‘Education’s a good deal like eating—a fellow can’t always tell which particular thing did him good, but he can usually tell which one did him harm.’

‘Some men learn all they know from books; others from life; both kinds are narrow. The first are all theory; the second are all practice. It’s the fellow who knows enough about practice to test his theories for blow-holes that gives the world a shove ahead, and finds a fair margin of profit in shoving it.’

‘Beauty is only skin deep, but that’s deep enough to satisfy any reasonable man. (I want to say right here that to get any sense out of a proverb I usually find that I have to turn it wrong side out.)’

‘It’s been my experience that a critter who has instincts instead of sense belongs in the bushes with the dicky-birds.’


The sharing process

From among the hundreds (really? perhaps) of articles I’ve read these past few weeks, just three to share:

A Lecture on Johnson and Boswell, by Jorge Luis Borges (New York Review of Books)

Three of my literary figures all wrapped into one.

I love dietary challenges and July has been a good/tough one: alcohol-free and the 5-2 fasting diet (jesus, why?). The last cocktail I had before my self-imposed lockdown was a scotch martini.

I wouldn’t recommend it. Dubious, indeed:

The Dubious History of the Scotch Martini, A Supposed Wartime Favorite
Did the Brits really run out of vermouth during WWII? And more importantly, does it matter? (InsideHook)

Bad Traditionalism: How I Escaped a Disastrous Engagement
by Tara Isabella Burton (Commonweal)

This article is tagged ‘Secularism and Modernity’, ‘Spirituality’, ‘U.S. Catholicism’, ‘Gender’ and won’t appeal to everyone. This comes from one of favourite writers.