Write For Yourself
Thursday, May 20 , 2010
Many of us have kept diaries or journals; some of us
have even been faithful about them. More likely, we’ve
written sporadically, then left them to get dusty on
shelf or under the bed. Perhaps the journals on our
computers have entries dated a year or two apart. It’s
easy to be enthusiastic about a fresh diary and to then
give up when we don’t maintain the ideal of daily deep,
fascinating entries.
But this should not stop us from writing when we want and need to. So what if you haven’t written in a year? So what if you look back on that last entry and are not sure what you were quite so upset about? Writing for ourselves is not an exercise in perfection (for that matter, no writing is).
Sometimes you just need to get your feelings and thoughts and ideas and rants out. Perhaps no one is around for you to talk to. Perhaps you don’t think anyone will understand. Perhaps you are afraid of sharing what is really going on in your mind. So put it on paper or on your computer. (I do realize that this makes it “real” in that someone could find it and read it, but there are ways of hiding or password-protecting documents.) So let it out. And don’t worry about grammar, spelling, punctuation—or even what you’re saying or how you’re saying it.
Journals are not the place to make sure that you’re making sense, to ensure that one thought leads logically to the next. They are, instead, a reflection of your mind, of how one thought leads to others in your mind, of the associations you make. That is really what is going on for you, and that is what is important. It’s the truth, or as close as you may come to it right then. You may return to your journal later and use it as a resource for other writing that you present more coherently; many writers do that. And it works because the journal entries are honest.
Not all writing for yourself has to take the shape of journal entries; you can write letters, emails, and more. One recommendation: don’t share your entry or letter or email with anyone right away. If it’s an email, don’t put the address on it; this will prevent you from just hitting send and…well…you can guess the rest. Similarly, don’t print and send a letter right away. If it’s a journal entry that can be uploaded to a blog, don’t upload it!
In all cases, put it away for a while—a day, a week, a month, if you can. Then look at it again and see if you still feel the same way. If so, revise it to say what you want to share with the other person or people in the clearest way, one which this person or people will be able to hear. (In other words, take out all the curses, the insults, the accusations; own your feelings; imagine reading it as that person. And, with journal/blog entries, while some of your blog readers will be supportive, they may also become wary of you.)
Writing is a release. And if you let yourself go, you will discover more of yourself than you thought you might.
But this should not stop us from writing when we want and need to. So what if you haven’t written in a year? So what if you look back on that last entry and are not sure what you were quite so upset about? Writing for ourselves is not an exercise in perfection (for that matter, no writing is).
Sometimes you just need to get your feelings and thoughts and ideas and rants out. Perhaps no one is around for you to talk to. Perhaps you don’t think anyone will understand. Perhaps you are afraid of sharing what is really going on in your mind. So put it on paper or on your computer. (I do realize that this makes it “real” in that someone could find it and read it, but there are ways of hiding or password-protecting documents.) So let it out. And don’t worry about grammar, spelling, punctuation—or even what you’re saying or how you’re saying it.
Journals are not the place to make sure that you’re making sense, to ensure that one thought leads logically to the next. They are, instead, a reflection of your mind, of how one thought leads to others in your mind, of the associations you make. That is really what is going on for you, and that is what is important. It’s the truth, or as close as you may come to it right then. You may return to your journal later and use it as a resource for other writing that you present more coherently; many writers do that. And it works because the journal entries are honest.
Not all writing for yourself has to take the shape of journal entries; you can write letters, emails, and more. One recommendation: don’t share your entry or letter or email with anyone right away. If it’s an email, don’t put the address on it; this will prevent you from just hitting send and…well…you can guess the rest. Similarly, don’t print and send a letter right away. If it’s a journal entry that can be uploaded to a blog, don’t upload it!
In all cases, put it away for a while—a day, a week, a month, if you can. Then look at it again and see if you still feel the same way. If so, revise it to say what you want to share with the other person or people in the clearest way, one which this person or people will be able to hear. (In other words, take out all the curses, the insults, the accusations; own your feelings; imagine reading it as that person. And, with journal/blog entries, while some of your blog readers will be supportive, they may also become wary of you.)
Writing is a release. And if you let yourself go, you will discover more of yourself than you thought you might.
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Put It Away For a Long Time, Then Take It Out Again
Sunday, April 18 , 2010
My last entry suggested that you put your writing away
for a while and then return to revise it. This works
not only while in the midst of a project but also long
after the project is done. Revisiting old creations can
be exciting and, well, creative.
Recently, I looked at poetry, essays, and stories I wrote, some of it up to thirteen years old. A number of pieces had been published, but most had not. I was surprised to find that much of it was still powerful and well written.
Reading it had a two-fold effect: I felt both like going back to some of the old work and revising it, updating it, improving what I thought had been fine before, and like starting fresh. So I’m doing both: the old work remains open on my desktop, and blank documents are filling with new words.
I’m not saying that some of what I read didn’t make me cringe. But even where there was drek, a wonderful phrase lurked. There is new in the old.
Recently, I looked at poetry, essays, and stories I wrote, some of it up to thirteen years old. A number of pieces had been published, but most had not. I was surprised to find that much of it was still powerful and well written.
Reading it had a two-fold effect: I felt both like going back to some of the old work and revising it, updating it, improving what I thought had been fine before, and like starting fresh. So I’m doing both: the old work remains open on my desktop, and blank documents are filling with new words.
I’m not saying that some of what I read didn’t make me cringe. But even where there was drek, a wonderful phrase lurked. There is new in the old.
How to Edit Your Own Writing II: Listen to It
Sunday, March 14 , 2010
Shortly after we learn to read, we’re taught to read
silently; this is considered a great milestone. And it
is. But reading aloud is a useful tool. Plus, it can be
a lot of fun. When you read your own writing aloud, it
sounds very different than it does in your head. Yes,
some of it may sound stupid, silly, trite. But some of
it will sound wonderful; you’ll be amazed that
you wrote that sentence!
Most likely, your first draft will contain more of the poor writing than the astounding writing, but that’s to be expected. (That’s why we write and rewrite and rewrite and so on. More about that another time.) What you’ll also find is your own mistakes. When you read aloud, you’ll catch your fragments and run-on sentences. You may even find your comma splices. Plus, you’ll hear the phrases that don’t work, that are awkward or contradictory.
If you feel idiotic reading aloud, do it anyway. Find some privacy: close your door, lock it if necessary, whisper if you have to. If you find that you can’t listen while you’re reading, record your writing or have a friend or family member read it to you. In all cases, keep a draft of the writing and a pen or pencil with you and mark down any- and everything you want to come back to (don’t fix it then; just put enough so you’ll know what you mean). Imagine the money you’ll save with your editor, too!
Most likely, your first draft will contain more of the poor writing than the astounding writing, but that’s to be expected. (That’s why we write and rewrite and rewrite and so on. More about that another time.) What you’ll also find is your own mistakes. When you read aloud, you’ll catch your fragments and run-on sentences. You may even find your comma splices. Plus, you’ll hear the phrases that don’t work, that are awkward or contradictory.
If you feel idiotic reading aloud, do it anyway. Find some privacy: close your door, lock it if necessary, whisper if you have to. If you find that you can’t listen while you’re reading, record your writing or have a friend or family member read it to you. In all cases, keep a draft of the writing and a pen or pencil with you and mark down any- and everything you want to come back to (don’t fix it then; just put enough so you’ll know what you mean). Imagine the money you’ll save with your editor, too!
How to Edit Your Own Writing I: Look at It Another Way
Sunday, March 14 , 2010
When you’re writing, it’s easy to get stuck. So you
look back at what you’ve already written to get moving
again, jogging yourself to your next word or sentence,
example or point. But after a while, you know what
you’re going to read, so your eyes tend to skim over
the words. You push yourself to focus with little
success.
What to do? A useful step is to change how you’re looking at your writing. If you are writing by hand, type it up; if you’re typing, print it out. It seems minor, simple, but it works. It’s amazing how different your writing looks in typewritten form. Shorter, yes, those even fonts tend to shrink most peoples’ writing, but neat, formal, clean, glistening on the screen. And when you print it, it becomes solid.
What to do? A useful step is to change how you’re looking at your writing. If you are writing by hand, type it up; if you’re typing, print it out. It seems minor, simple, but it works. It’s amazing how different your writing looks in typewritten form. Shorter, yes, those even fonts tend to shrink most peoples’ writing, but neat, formal, clean, glistening on the screen. And when you print it, it becomes solid.
Writing and Blogging
Wednesday, February 24 , 2010
The internet and blogs in
particular are an interesting phenomenon. They have
most people writing more: emails, status updates,
comments, etc. This writing may not be complete
sentences or even complete words, but it’s still
writing.
When I was growing up, I don’t think I wrote on a regular basis. Oh, there were the times I tried to keep a diary or a journal, but they were short-lived and far between. I wrote letters, mostly in the summer, to my parents from summer camp and to friends from wherever I was to wherever they were. And thank you notes to grandparents and other relatives. Apart from that and assignments for school, I wrote very little.
I resisted the blog phenomenon. When I started this blog nearly two years ago, I decided it was going to have a theme; I was not going to just blather about my ingrown toenails and that I needed to buy cat food. I found that I regularly read blogs that had a focus, like Television Without Pity (www.televisionwithoutpity.com) and Go Fug Yourself (http://gofugyourself.celebuzz.com/). These had the added benefit of being snarky and funny, something I don’t guarantee in my entries. (And you can see my resistance in the paltry number of entries so far!)
But think about it! So many people writing their lives and sending it into cyberspace for almost anyone to read, sharing very personal information, issues they might not talk about directly to family or friends. There’s a safety in writing it to the faceless public; even if this public judges us, we won’t know, so we won’t care.
And those people close to us, the ones we struggle with and complain about, we write about them, share information they wouldn’t want going outside the family. No, they may never read it, it may never get back to them, but is it really safe? Is it really fair?
What is it about writing and sharing that seems easier these days than writing and keep, as in a journal? Why is it that we are okay with writing (and not revising, me included) and posting, with all our various errors that we haven’t checked for, yet we are shy about seeking help with writing for school or professional writing?
Once again, this entry seems to have ended in a different place than it began. There are no clear answers; personally, I think more writing is good, but I’m not crazy about the texting shortcuts creeping into non-texting writing. As for the blogging, again, writing’s great, but I wonder about the great laundry room in cyberspace.
When I was growing up, I don’t think I wrote on a regular basis. Oh, there were the times I tried to keep a diary or a journal, but they were short-lived and far between. I wrote letters, mostly in the summer, to my parents from summer camp and to friends from wherever I was to wherever they were. And thank you notes to grandparents and other relatives. Apart from that and assignments for school, I wrote very little.
I resisted the blog phenomenon. When I started this blog nearly two years ago, I decided it was going to have a theme; I was not going to just blather about my ingrown toenails and that I needed to buy cat food. I found that I regularly read blogs that had a focus, like Television Without Pity (www.televisionwithoutpity.com) and Go Fug Yourself (http://gofugyourself.celebuzz.com/). These had the added benefit of being snarky and funny, something I don’t guarantee in my entries. (And you can see my resistance in the paltry number of entries so far!)
But think about it! So many people writing their lives and sending it into cyberspace for almost anyone to read, sharing very personal information, issues they might not talk about directly to family or friends. There’s a safety in writing it to the faceless public; even if this public judges us, we won’t know, so we won’t care.
And those people close to us, the ones we struggle with and complain about, we write about them, share information they wouldn’t want going outside the family. No, they may never read it, it may never get back to them, but is it really safe? Is it really fair?
What is it about writing and sharing that seems easier these days than writing and keep, as in a journal? Why is it that we are okay with writing (and not revising, me included) and posting, with all our various errors that we haven’t checked for, yet we are shy about seeking help with writing for school or professional writing?
Once again, this entry seems to have ended in a different place than it began. There are no clear answers; personally, I think more writing is good, but I’m not crazy about the texting shortcuts creeping into non-texting writing. As for the blogging, again, writing’s great, but I wonder about the great laundry room in cyberspace.
Don't Think About It
Sunday, February 21 , 2010
Have you ever had the experience in which words just
flow from your fingers? Essays or poems or other work
just seems to appear on the page? You don’t struggle
for ideas or for words; they just come. It’s easy, like
a swimming stroke you’ve mastered or a sport you excel
at. And you expect that all writing will be like that
from now on. I think I was in 11th grade the first time
I remember experiencing this. The essay was on The
Return of the Native or maybe Pride and
Prejudice, a classic, in any case. It was a Friday
evening (no comments, please) and I decided to see what
I could do on this essay. And it all came out. And it
was good! I was amazed and excited and relieved. And
kind of looking forward to the next assignment.
But the next essay didn’t come so easily. I didn’t know what to say. The supporting examples didn’t jump from my pen to the paper. I had to think. Hard. It wasn’t fair! I thought I’d gotten past that problem. After all, when I learned the crawl, I didn’t have this much trouble with it, even on an off day.
I continued and continue to struggle with writing, but I’ve learned a few tricks to handle it. First, sometimes you just have to do it, just write and don’t think about what you’re writing. Freewrite. Write about anything. Write the same word over and over. This has become increasingly popular and recommended over the last decade or so by people like Peter Elbow and Natalie Goldberg. “Don’t take your pen off the paper,” they say. “Keep your pen moving.” Excellent recommendations. Of course, much of what come out is crap; that isn’t the point. The point is that in that crap, you very well may find a gem—and uncut gem, but a gem nonetheless. When I’m using a computer, I find it’s easier if I have the writing either take up the whole screen or be dimmed completely out, so I’m not tempted to delete and correct errors and instead just keep moving. And what emerges surprises me. And different things emerge when I handwrite and when I typewrite. (I can’t be completely sure of this because there is no way to do a proper experiment, but I’m quite sure.)
Freewriting is a type of prewriting, of preparing to write, usually and essay or a narrative, of getting ideas and associations down. Other types of prewriting involve lists and mind maps and outlines (broad ones work well for me; heavily detailed ones don’t). There are many others that I’m not going to get into now, mostly because I can’t remember them right now.
All this writing sets your mind in motion. And it keeps going even when you’re not paying attention to it. I call it percolating. So you may feel like you’re procrastinating, but if you’ve put some conscious thought into what you have to write, your subconscious will help you out, so that when you return to your assignment, you may be surprised to find that more flows than you expected. But this rarely happens if you don’t do any of the prep or pre- work.
So enjoy those times when the writing emerges fully-grown—and expect to work the rest of the time.
But the next essay didn’t come so easily. I didn’t know what to say. The supporting examples didn’t jump from my pen to the paper. I had to think. Hard. It wasn’t fair! I thought I’d gotten past that problem. After all, when I learned the crawl, I didn’t have this much trouble with it, even on an off day.
I continued and continue to struggle with writing, but I’ve learned a few tricks to handle it. First, sometimes you just have to do it, just write and don’t think about what you’re writing. Freewrite. Write about anything. Write the same word over and over. This has become increasingly popular and recommended over the last decade or so by people like Peter Elbow and Natalie Goldberg. “Don’t take your pen off the paper,” they say. “Keep your pen moving.” Excellent recommendations. Of course, much of what come out is crap; that isn’t the point. The point is that in that crap, you very well may find a gem—and uncut gem, but a gem nonetheless. When I’m using a computer, I find it’s easier if I have the writing either take up the whole screen or be dimmed completely out, so I’m not tempted to delete and correct errors and instead just keep moving. And what emerges surprises me. And different things emerge when I handwrite and when I typewrite. (I can’t be completely sure of this because there is no way to do a proper experiment, but I’m quite sure.)
Freewriting is a type of prewriting, of preparing to write, usually and essay or a narrative, of getting ideas and associations down. Other types of prewriting involve lists and mind maps and outlines (broad ones work well for me; heavily detailed ones don’t). There are many others that I’m not going to get into now, mostly because I can’t remember them right now.
All this writing sets your mind in motion. And it keeps going even when you’re not paying attention to it. I call it percolating. So you may feel like you’re procrastinating, but if you’ve put some conscious thought into what you have to write, your subconscious will help you out, so that when you return to your assignment, you may be surprised to find that more flows than you expected. But this rarely happens if you don’t do any of the prep or pre- work.
So enjoy those times when the writing emerges fully-grown—and expect to work the rest of the time.
The Difficulty in Writing!
Friday, February 12 , 2010
If anyone has looked at this, he or she can clearly see
that it’s been nearly two years since I made my last
entry—and that was the second of only two! Sad, but not
uncommon. Some writers can’t help but write; others
will do anything to not write! I’ve known some to
actually clean the house instead. That’s not me, but I
manage to avoid it in other ways.
However, I didn’t totally avoid writing. That would be impossible. I’ve written emails, birthday cards, filled out forms, the basics. But I also wrote a novel as part of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). I was determined to do it this year—and I did. NaNoWriMo is an ever-enlarging program in which people, anyone, writes a 50,000 word novel during the month of November. It started just over 11 years ago among 25 or so friends in July and has grown and grown. There are many local groups, many of which have “write-ins” and support their members both during and after November. In fact, it’s now international. And everyone who writes at least 50,000 words in those 30 days is a winner. It doesn’t matter how little sense those words make or how many of them are crossed out; they’ve been written, they count, and you win. There’s still the small matter of rereading it, deciding if it’s worth revising, revising, and getting it published—that should take you the rest of the year! Because mine adds onto a series created by someone else, I need permission to try to publish is. That’s okay, the important thing is that I did it. And it’s pretty good, too!
This is all to say that I hope to find my list of jotted-down blog topics and pursue some of them here, and I hope that some of you will read them. Maybe I’ll even figure out a way for people to leave comments (thought I’m not it’s possible with my pagemaking program; sorry).
However, I didn’t totally avoid writing. That would be impossible. I’ve written emails, birthday cards, filled out forms, the basics. But I also wrote a novel as part of National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). I was determined to do it this year—and I did. NaNoWriMo is an ever-enlarging program in which people, anyone, writes a 50,000 word novel during the month of November. It started just over 11 years ago among 25 or so friends in July and has grown and grown. There are many local groups, many of which have “write-ins” and support their members both during and after November. In fact, it’s now international. And everyone who writes at least 50,000 words in those 30 days is a winner. It doesn’t matter how little sense those words make or how many of them are crossed out; they’ve been written, they count, and you win. There’s still the small matter of rereading it, deciding if it’s worth revising, revising, and getting it published—that should take you the rest of the year! Because mine adds onto a series created by someone else, I need permission to try to publish is. That’s okay, the important thing is that I did it. And it’s pretty good, too!
This is all to say that I hope to find my list of jotted-down blog topics and pursue some of them here, and I hope that some of you will read them. Maybe I’ll even figure out a way for people to leave comments (thought I’m not it’s possible with my pagemaking program; sorry).
The Vulnerability in Writing
Monday, April 28 , 2008
Writing is an activity that makes us vulnerable.
Freewriting, especially, can lead us to putting down
thoughts and feelings that we weren’t aware of (fully
or even at all). And since these thoughts and feelings
are now in writing, they can be found and read by other
people. And yet many people keep journals—and have for
many years; rather, people have written their private
thoughts and feelings for hundreds of years, and some
of these journals or diaries have been published. The
Diary of Anne Frank is a good example. Granted, Anne
Frank was planning to publish her diary after the war,
and so had changed peoples’ names and some other facts.
But she didn’t get to finish her revisions, so her
diary affords us a different view that she may have
wanted us to see.
These days, many people share their thoughts and feelings and reactions and gripes on blogs. Sometimes they share information that they don’t tell the people in their lives. And they worry that these people might discover this information. I find it interesting that we can share with strangers more than we can with many of the people in our lives; I’m no different. It’s an interesting comment on our culture which I won’t go into (now).
But it seems that there is something about putting our words on paper (or on the computer) which makes us vulnerable. And it’s not just personal information that makes us vulnerable; I’ve known students to feel uncomfortable sharing essays about all sorts of subjects. Perhaps we know that the way we put words together tells others more about us than we’d like. (Although some bloggers don’t seem to feel that they be telling their readers more than just what they say.) There’s something permanent about writing it down.
Many experienced writers are no different, as far as I know. It’s nerve-wracking to turn in a paper or a thesis chapter to a professor and wait, hoping for that ‘A’ (because anything else is disappointing) and comments that everything in it is perfect. While the ‘A’ may happen, the comment about perfection won’t! Part of that is simply due to all writers having different styles, different ways that they put words together and have a hard time not, uh, sharing that with others. In any case, professional writers must experience those same nerves when submitting a new article or book for publication.
But you’re not weird if you feel nervous when you turn in a paper or post a blog or trade an essay to do a peer review. Or go the the writing center in your school or ask a professional editor or proofreader to look over your work. It’s not easy to open ourselves to feedback, real or imaginary. But it’s part of the process of writing.
These days, many people share their thoughts and feelings and reactions and gripes on blogs. Sometimes they share information that they don’t tell the people in their lives. And they worry that these people might discover this information. I find it interesting that we can share with strangers more than we can with many of the people in our lives; I’m no different. It’s an interesting comment on our culture which I won’t go into (now).
But it seems that there is something about putting our words on paper (or on the computer) which makes us vulnerable. And it’s not just personal information that makes us vulnerable; I’ve known students to feel uncomfortable sharing essays about all sorts of subjects. Perhaps we know that the way we put words together tells others more about us than we’d like. (Although some bloggers don’t seem to feel that they be telling their readers more than just what they say.) There’s something permanent about writing it down.
Many experienced writers are no different, as far as I know. It’s nerve-wracking to turn in a paper or a thesis chapter to a professor and wait, hoping for that ‘A’ (because anything else is disappointing) and comments that everything in it is perfect. While the ‘A’ may happen, the comment about perfection won’t! Part of that is simply due to all writers having different styles, different ways that they put words together and have a hard time not, uh, sharing that with others. In any case, professional writers must experience those same nerves when submitting a new article or book for publication.
But you’re not weird if you feel nervous when you turn in a paper or post a blog or trade an essay to do a peer review. Or go the the writing center in your school or ask a professional editor or proofreader to look over your work. It’s not easy to open ourselves to feedback, real or imaginary. But it’s part of the process of writing.
What is this blog?
Monday, April 28 , 2008
A couple of months ago, I decided that I would add a blog to my business’ website. It would not be a blog about the ins and outs of my life, since I don’t want to burden my clients. ;-D Rather, it would be about writing—things I’ve learned, things I do when I write, trends I’ve noticed, etc. I brainstormed forty-four topics.
Writing overlaps with so many parts of our lives: all school subjects, going on errands (you don’t want to forget any!), e-mailing, text-messaging and IMing, and more. In fact, my sense is that more people write more on a daily basis than they have ever before. Writing is influenced by culture, as I’ll explore, both where we are from and what’s happening currently.
I’ll provide some tips to help you with your writing, but much of the time I’ll be making observations or asking questions that I don’t have the answers to. To which, in fact, there may be no definitive answers.
I hope we all enjoy this experiment.
Tags: Writing, Blogs, Anne Frank, Questions, Observations