Writing is a solitary pursuit--the imagination guiding the hand moving the pen. I'm pretty old-school, valuing the work of good editors and the revisions process before letting my words go public. But life is short, right? And sometimes, just sometimes, we need to spout off.

About me...

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A writer, mother, teacher, friend, I love books, blizzards and beaches, music from Hildegard von Bingen to the Beatles to Bonnie Raitt to The Brood; I love medieval churches, red wine, creme caramel, and roasted beets, and walking the woods and coastlines of home. 

Sunday, January 24, 2010


...has gotta be the No. 1 thing writing keeps teaching me. Not just to wait for le mot juste, or the right plot point--the thing that snaps its fingers, says lissen up, and whose magic hooks me--or the rest of the story to slowly burn in. Nope. It's the patience to sit through the rest--all the stuff that's beyond my control--that's hardest to cultivate. Not that story and its uncanny unravelling (or coming together) is all within my control; what a dull and wooden story that would be, if it so behaved. But at least we/you/I can trust in the process. What is so much harder to have faith in is the "compliance" of those who help bring a book into the word--another paradox of writing, that what is solitary has to become collaborative. Waiting for those in the business of publishing to give the green light. Like watching paint dry in drizzly fog. Worse. Because patience means stoicism, or at the very least trying to be polite. Genteel.
The No. 1 ongoing, never-ending lesson, Patience. Good priming for the real-life situations where you really need it. At least our characters won't die lying under rubble.
As always, when tried by waiting I find the patience of survivors most inspiring.
If those who truly suffer can hang in so bravely awaiting help, what is my wait but an inchworm-style speedbump?

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