I've been learning some things about writing. I've been learning that if I want to be a writer, I need to write like crazy, and get all (read some) of the bad writing out of me before I even start to pretend it's good and before I think I need to share my profoundness with other people. (Disclaimer: This blog is the exception -- I promise. I've just been blessed with some nice, non-critical readers, who let me make believe that I'm a real writer when I'm really only just practicing.)
I've been reminded about the practice-makes-closer-to-perfect thing a few times in the last couple days, but Anne Lamott said it best in her newish book, Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith: "I know that with writing, you start where you are, and you flail around for a while, and if you keep doing it, every day you get closer to something good."
You'd think I'd have known by now that it takes years and reams of paper to get good at writing. And I know I've read it in books about writing before because it sure sounds awfully familiar. But I've only believed it for about one day.
How do I know I believe it? Because I'm writing. I'm writing junk -- whatever comes to mind -- and I'm not expecting it to be profound or publishable. I'm just writing.
(I hope the belief sticks; that'd really be something.)
1 comment:
I could be a critic if I felt like it. *grin*
But I'd still say mostly good stuff.
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