*
Feeling a little, something. A word popped into my head which wasn't the word I'm feeling and not the word I was thinking. That word was "nostalgic" but that isn't what it is.
I'm feeling. Some excitement maybe. After all, NaNoWriMo is coming!
And a Corporeal Writing workshop in November.
October brings me a chance to interpret "Trevor" at Artists Repertory Theatre and then a staged reading of "Hazardous Beauty" at Profile Theatre. And what will be an amazing wonderful experience of a second chance to interpret Profile Theatre's "Antigone Project" - but this time it will be at Oregon School for the Deaf.
I'm also doing a 30-day Lunar Challenge writing experience online. It is day two and I just finished up my intro. I haven't written day one yet, but I will. And then move on to day two writing. But I'm writing here right now instead of doing that. The facilitator is a writer I met in the Corporeal Writing workshops, who is a creative and energetic spirit full of heart. This is part of my increasing my writing time. My writing commitment. Because NaNoWriMo is coming; and I want to do this anyway.
Maybe this will be the year which launches me forward into writing. Maybe.
For now, back to the work and the script. After I write the two daily assignment, I mean.
So what was it I'm feeling? Oh, right, reflective; introspectively reflective. Nice!
*
Thursday, September 22, 2016
Friday, September 9, 2016
The Eve of Another Interpreted Show and NaNo Approacheth
*
This is about passion. About creative passions and keeping them alive in spite of obstacles of time which may mean money which may mean time which means. Keep on keeping on don't stop don't look back look forward to the vision and keep it going.
Creative passion: theatre/theater and writing/writer/author
Creative passion needs inspiration/input/inflow
Creative passion realization needs time
Creative passion realization needs space
Don't give me the line about the physician author who wrote a ton of books on prescription papers at his desk between patients. Don't tell me about the mother painter/author who locked herself in a room and left all the children to fend for themselves (or each other) for hours while she created. Don't tell me that if it's important enough I will make it happen.
I am making it happen. My way. My time.
Creative passion : theatre writing performance interpreting
Creative passion needs financial support
Creative passion needs rest and time down to percolate
Creative passion needs alone-time and community-time; seclusion and connection
My way errs to the side of caution and my way errs to the side of taking my time and it works. It takes longer and I've passed the age of ever being a young-writer-wow-look-at-her-go and I'm not old enough to be the miracle-senior-genius-writer. I'm me and my pace and get-it-done ways, which I do and pieces are coming together coming to fruition coming into being and I grow we grow it grows.
And my writing calls while I focus more on theatre on theatrical interpreting on the other interpreting work I do which brings in the money for the home and the utilities and the health insurance massage chiropractic new shoes and black shirts black pants black socks needed for work. And the writing workshops of course. Writing calls and I whisper - soon.
The play I am working on right now is inspiring and new and fresh and challenging and worth all of the time we're putting into our preparation. The play I am working on right now is five re-tellings of the Antigone story by modern female writers and they are good. Very good. Inspiring. And because of the short run of the production our preparation is condensed compressed saturating time this week - necessarily.
Just the other day I was ready to toss in the towel on the writing. Or at least on NaNoWriMo this year because I'm not going to make the deadline I set for myself to finish the next draft of the memoir manuscript. At this pace I don't see how I can finish up the draft before NaNoWriMo 2016 begins so how can I start something else new where is the time and energy and what about the X and Y and A and C and....
Wait! An idea strikes about what I might write about. Then another idea comes up in a discussion. Then another resurfaces from the past and I'm on the NaNoWriMo website looking at all of my purple completion bars/stars/numbers from years past.
Wait! An inspiring discussion with an actor and my team interpreters after the show tonight and pieces coming together and hope and possibility and dreaming together, the four of us. Passions.
I will do it, the writing, the November thing. It seems a little early but not too. NaNoWriMo is coming. And more plays. And my other interpreting work which keeps me on my toes and busy and keeps me financially in the flow and I'm still in the flow.
Creative passion needs recommitment and inspiration and time. And patience.
Deal. I'm in.
*
This is about passion. About creative passions and keeping them alive in spite of obstacles of time which may mean money which may mean time which means. Keep on keeping on don't stop don't look back look forward to the vision and keep it going.
Creative passion: theatre/theater and writing/writer/author
Creative passion needs inspiration/input/inflow
Creative passion realization needs time
Creative passion realization needs space
Don't give me the line about the physician author who wrote a ton of books on prescription papers at his desk between patients. Don't tell me about the mother painter/author who locked herself in a room and left all the children to fend for themselves (or each other) for hours while she created. Don't tell me that if it's important enough I will make it happen.
I am making it happen. My way. My time.
Creative passion : theatre writing performance interpreting
Creative passion needs financial support
Creative passion needs rest and time down to percolate
Creative passion needs alone-time and community-time; seclusion and connection
My way errs to the side of caution and my way errs to the side of taking my time and it works. It takes longer and I've passed the age of ever being a young-writer-wow-look-at-her-go and I'm not old enough to be the miracle-senior-genius-writer. I'm me and my pace and get-it-done ways, which I do and pieces are coming together coming to fruition coming into being and I grow we grow it grows.
And my writing calls while I focus more on theatre on theatrical interpreting on the other interpreting work I do which brings in the money for the home and the utilities and the health insurance massage chiropractic new shoes and black shirts black pants black socks needed for work. And the writing workshops of course. Writing calls and I whisper - soon.
The play I am working on right now is inspiring and new and fresh and challenging and worth all of the time we're putting into our preparation. The play I am working on right now is five re-tellings of the Antigone story by modern female writers and they are good. Very good. Inspiring. And because of the short run of the production our preparation is condensed compressed saturating time this week - necessarily.
Just the other day I was ready to toss in the towel on the writing. Or at least on NaNoWriMo this year because I'm not going to make the deadline I set for myself to finish the next draft of the memoir manuscript. At this pace I don't see how I can finish up the draft before NaNoWriMo 2016 begins so how can I start something else new where is the time and energy and what about the X and Y and A and C and....
Wait! An idea strikes about what I might write about. Then another idea comes up in a discussion. Then another resurfaces from the past and I'm on the NaNoWriMo website looking at all of my purple completion bars/stars/numbers from years past.
Wait! An inspiring discussion with an actor and my team interpreters after the show tonight and pieces coming together and hope and possibility and dreaming together, the four of us. Passions.
I will do it, the writing, the November thing. It seems a little early but not too. NaNoWriMo is coming. And more plays. And my other interpreting work which keeps me on my toes and busy and keeps me financially in the flow and I'm still in the flow.
Creative passion needs recommitment and inspiration and time. And patience.
Deal. I'm in.
*
Thursday, September 1, 2016
Writing is/is not a Solitary Activity
*
I've heard a lot of people - ordinary people on the street; published authors; editors; writing facilitators/professors/teachers/mentors; others - say that "writing is a solitary activity." Which I think is true, in some ways. Not true always. And while I do think that the act of writing is a thing we can do alone, we may often do alone, the process of creativity and writing is not something we do alone. It takes a bunch of people to make this writing thing we do move from our brain and hands onto the page, be it electronic or printed.
The writer alone in the room writing.
Does it happen? Yes, absolutely. And, no. Is that the everything of writing? Sitting alone and putting words onto the page/screen?
For those who may think of, or actually do, their writing entirely alone, cool. Good. Do what works.
But I think, like the photos below which I took from the balcony in LACMA on our visit last March, to get the writing out into the world it takes more than just the person doing the writing. Each process may look different for different writers; I'm sure it does.
But, like these people carrying the long tube/rolled up something/whatever it is up the stairs, it would be a nearly impossible task for one person. But together they were talking, laughing, serious, and it was smooth and easy and they nearly glided up the steps.
A few days ago I applied to another Writing By Writers conference taking place later next year. And I was accepted. It is a different group, in general, from my tribe of writers, but it's a good group and there is overlap. It was a life altering experience last spring and I want to do it again. I was among writers and I felt like a writer; I was - and am - a writer.
But my tribe of writers is bigger than that. There are two other groups which have been huge supporters in this writing process and continue to be. Several individuals in particular - but even the groups as a whole, because they are led by two people who attract good people to them. They lead by example and believe in all of us and hold space for use to create and develop. Without these two groups, I wouldn't have the manuscript I'm editing right now. I wouldn't have the short story collection in process, or the guts and energy to tackle NaNoWriMo again this year, even though I'm still editing the manuscript (I hoped to have it done before November, but unless I get a supercharge of writing time and energy, I'm not sure I'll make it). I still have moments of doubt about whether I should be writing, if my writing is "any good," if the story is worth putting out there, and so on.
Some days I'm the "tube" and I'm being buoyed by my fellow Corporeal Writing writers, and the authors I've met through Lidia Yuknavitch's workshop series, gliding along knowing that I am one of them. Some days I am one of the "tube bearers" and supporting and lifting up other writers with feedback or head nods and encouragement, or just being witness. My years of workshops in the Literary Kitchen with Ariel Gore and fabulous Wayward Writers was similar, although that tribe is online, and it is a solid foundation I carry with me now.
I am also fortunate to have a writer friend who I get to meet with on a pretty regular basis for shared writing time and feedback. See? Again, not alone. Sometimes we are writing simultaneously. We are not working on the same project - but we are sharing space and mutual accountability for showing up - and writing. I've had a few writing groups off and on; I think I'd like one of those, too, but am waiting and open for the right configuration of writers with compatible time and space to come along. Or maybe I'm waiting for me to make the time and space so it can happen; which I think I'm on the right track and am in the process of opening up some space in my schedule for more writing.
The tube. The tube carriers. Writing is solitary activity. Writing is a community activity.
I've heard a lot of people - ordinary people on the street; published authors; editors; writing facilitators/professors/teachers/mentors; others - say that "writing is a solitary activity." Which I think is true, in some ways. Not true always. And while I do think that the act of writing is a thing we can do alone, we may often do alone, the process of creativity and writing is not something we do alone. It takes a bunch of people to make this writing thing we do move from our brain and hands onto the page, be it electronic or printed.
The writer alone in the room writing.
Does it happen? Yes, absolutely. And, no. Is that the everything of writing? Sitting alone and putting words onto the page/screen?
For those who may think of, or actually do, their writing entirely alone, cool. Good. Do what works.
But I think, like the photos below which I took from the balcony in LACMA on our visit last March, to get the writing out into the world it takes more than just the person doing the writing. Each process may look different for different writers; I'm sure it does.
But, like these people carrying the long tube/rolled up something/whatever it is up the stairs, it would be a nearly impossible task for one person. But together they were talking, laughing, serious, and it was smooth and easy and they nearly glided up the steps.
A few days ago I applied to another Writing By Writers conference taking place later next year. And I was accepted. It is a different group, in general, from my tribe of writers, but it's a good group and there is overlap. It was a life altering experience last spring and I want to do it again. I was among writers and I felt like a writer; I was - and am - a writer.
But my tribe of writers is bigger than that. There are two other groups which have been huge supporters in this writing process and continue to be. Several individuals in particular - but even the groups as a whole, because they are led by two people who attract good people to them. They lead by example and believe in all of us and hold space for use to create and develop. Without these two groups, I wouldn't have the manuscript I'm editing right now. I wouldn't have the short story collection in process, or the guts and energy to tackle NaNoWriMo again this year, even though I'm still editing the manuscript (I hoped to have it done before November, but unless I get a supercharge of writing time and energy, I'm not sure I'll make it). I still have moments of doubt about whether I should be writing, if my writing is "any good," if the story is worth putting out there, and so on.
Some days I'm the "tube" and I'm being buoyed by my fellow Corporeal Writing writers, and the authors I've met through Lidia Yuknavitch's workshop series, gliding along knowing that I am one of them. Some days I am one of the "tube bearers" and supporting and lifting up other writers with feedback or head nods and encouragement, or just being witness. My years of workshops in the Literary Kitchen with Ariel Gore and fabulous Wayward Writers was similar, although that tribe is online, and it is a solid foundation I carry with me now.
I am also fortunate to have a writer friend who I get to meet with on a pretty regular basis for shared writing time and feedback. See? Again, not alone. Sometimes we are writing simultaneously. We are not working on the same project - but we are sharing space and mutual accountability for showing up - and writing. I've had a few writing groups off and on; I think I'd like one of those, too, but am waiting and open for the right configuration of writers with compatible time and space to come along. Or maybe I'm waiting for me to make the time and space so it can happen; which I think I'm on the right track and am in the process of opening up some space in my schedule for more writing.
The tube. The tube carriers. Writing is solitary activity. Writing is a community activity.
Monday, August 15, 2016
Reading Suggestions? Road Trips!
What are your favorite road trip books?
If I asked you - and I am asking you - what are the essential road trip books I should read? I'm not talking about books one should take with them while on a road trip (although those suggestions are also welcome).
For you, here, now, today - what makes up a good road trip book?
Who and what should I read and why?
Who and what should I read and why?
Saturday, August 6, 2016
Summer Heat Eros or What I Did Today
*
EROS THANATOS
survival survival
instinct instinct
physical physical
love anger
life death
creativity violence
sexuality/
passion aggression
preservation destruction
self
-satisfaction sadism
NOT SO DIFFERENT
each inside the other
Sometimes to create, do we not have to destroy? To destroy what has been placed over our Self and our Desire and what constricts us. And don't we, in our creative process, destroy something - make something different than it was before. And in destruction aren't we also creating something new, because taking something away leaves space and time for something new, a replacement, a creative opportunity.
Re-examining what "eros" means. Places where its power might exist and the knowledge. How we suppress the expression of "eros" and what if we didn't?
EROS THANATOS
survival survival
instinct instinct
physical physical
love anger
life death
creativity violence
sexuality/
passion aggression
preservation destruction
self
-satisfaction sadism
NOT SO DIFFERENT
each inside the other
{creation<>destruction}
Sometimes to create, do we not have to destroy? To destroy what has been placed over our Self and our Desire and what constricts us. And don't we, in our creative process, destroy something - make something different than it was before. And in destruction aren't we also creating something new, because taking something away leaves space and time for something new, a replacement, a creative opportunity.
Audre Lorde: "Erotic moves us toward personal and political change." and "Our erotic power becomes a lens to see the world."
Re-examining what "eros" means. Places where its power might exist and the knowledge. How we suppress the expression of "eros" and what if we didn't?
Lidia Yuknavitch: "Eros as activism."*
Friday, August 5, 2016
Corporeal Writing Summer Session
*
heat words eros, breaking through timidity, first time second time many times returning to self to the body, speaking from the body breaking down personal limitations, being present in our messedupness not alone sharing space sharing wine whiskey beer soda water sharing breath and air and stories. standing swimming floating in pools of water cold hot. we. are. here. because words.
*
heat words eros, breaking through timidity, first time second time many times returning to self to the body, speaking from the body breaking down personal limitations, being present in our messedupness not alone sharing space sharing wine whiskey beer soda water sharing breath and air and stories. standing swimming floating in pools of water cold hot. we. are. here. because words.
*
Saturday, July 30, 2016
On the Cusp of August
*
Where am I? Who am I?
Oh, me. Hello, again. Yes. Things have been busy. Good busy, but busy is busy. You know?
Yes, I know.
Hey - you know the coolest thing that happened to me today?
No, What?
The workshop I'm attending next week? They sent "this is the final email before the workshop ... important information ..." all relevant and all good. But. The coolest thing? They made a mix tape to listen to on the way to the workshop! How super awesome is that? I sampled a couple of the songs but am saving the full Listen for the drive next Friday.
Super cool.
Yeah. It is. They are. Super cool. Like that. Words and revolution. With its own mix tape.
August. The place to be.
Good night.
G'night.
*
Where am I? Who am I?
Oh, me. Hello, again. Yes. Things have been busy. Good busy, but busy is busy. You know?
Yes, I know.
Hey - you know the coolest thing that happened to me today?
No, What?
The workshop I'm attending next week? They sent "this is the final email before the workshop ... important information ..." all relevant and all good. But. The coolest thing? They made a mix tape to listen to on the way to the workshop! How super awesome is that? I sampled a couple of the songs but am saving the full Listen for the drive next Friday.
Super cool.
Yeah. It is. They are. Super cool. Like that. Words and revolution. With its own mix tape.
Good night.
G'night.
Friday, July 8, 2016
The Hardest Thing (for me) To Do
*
The hardest thing for me to do is to do nothing.
I want to take that back and say that sometimes it is hard for me to do nothing. But the reality is that Nothing is the hardest thing.
I recently went on vacation. The first three days were mostly driving and filling up the gas tank, getting food and coffee, then sleeping. Get up, wash our bodies, repeat. We arrived at our destination on the third day with daylight left and time to celebrate a birthday (not mine). We did. It was great. Then a couple of days off together.
Then.
Her workshop started on the evening of my fifth day off. The participants and the two instructors had a welcome dinner; I didn't go. The next day her workshop started so I drove her to the studio and then went back to where we were staying. With my coffee and no plans.
Truly, I had no plans. We had shopped. We had a little food and coffee and tea and. Laundry? I could do that. I had an event to post to Facebook (yes, a work event - which was fine). I could. Do nothing? Read? Play Angry Birds With Friends. Read. Nap.
Do nothing.
I opted to take myself to brunch after doing nothing for an hour or two.
Checked Facebook.
Read some more of my print book. Read more of my ebook.
Do nothing?
It was hard for me to Do Nothing. I did some Nothing. And a few things: read thought birds read cooked laundry read stare-at-ceiling-fan try-to-relax read nap? read birds ahha-fix-browser-no?-shit!-workaround FB-event email-re-needtoknowsituation nothing try-to-relax. Relax-dammit. Ah nothing.
And so it went.
Do nothing? Yes. I did some nothing.
After a few days I tried to write. I went to a funky cool very local cyber-café-retreat place and tried to write. Nothing came. But rather than be frustrated I worked on feedback for a friend's writing. That was good. Way better than being frustrated about my own writing. And it was fun.
Rinse. Repeat.
Nothing. Yes, some. And it was good. It did eventually lead to a bit of an anxiety attack and I wasn't going to admit it but there it is. But even that has led to good because it was and is being an opportunity to work through what I am calling "anxiety reassignment" : finding other ways to deal with anxiety than by keeping busy.
It was also a reminder that, although I may not need to Write Every Day as some writers say I should, I do have to write more often and, sometimes (often), after a period of no writing, I can't really expect to just sit down and have it flow.
So.
Do nothing. Do writing. Do breathing. Do relaxation. Do work. Do writing. Do nothing.
Then today I read this in Austin Kleon's weekly newsletter and it's perfect. Yes. This. Me.
From Austin Kleon -
*
The hardest thing for me to do is to do nothing.
I want to take that back and say that sometimes it is hard for me to do nothing. But the reality is that Nothing is the hardest thing.
I recently went on vacation. The first three days were mostly driving and filling up the gas tank, getting food and coffee, then sleeping. Get up, wash our bodies, repeat. We arrived at our destination on the third day with daylight left and time to celebrate a birthday (not mine). We did. It was great. Then a couple of days off together.
Then.
Her workshop started on the evening of my fifth day off. The participants and the two instructors had a welcome dinner; I didn't go. The next day her workshop started so I drove her to the studio and then went back to where we were staying. With my coffee and no plans.
Truly, I had no plans. We had shopped. We had a little food and coffee and tea and. Laundry? I could do that. I had an event to post to Facebook (yes, a work event - which was fine). I could. Do nothing? Read? Play Angry Birds With Friends. Read. Nap.
Do nothing.
I opted to take myself to brunch after doing nothing for an hour or two.
Checked Facebook.
Read some more of my print book. Read more of my ebook.
Do nothing?
It was hard for me to Do Nothing. I did some Nothing. And a few things: read thought birds read cooked laundry read stare-at-ceiling-fan try-to-relax read nap? read birds ahha-fix-browser-no?-shit!-workaround FB-event email-re-needtoknowsituation nothing try-to-relax. Relax-dammit. Ah nothing.
And so it went.
Do nothing? Yes. I did some nothing.
After a few days I tried to write. I went to a funky cool very local cyber-café-retreat place and tried to write. Nothing came. But rather than be frustrated I worked on feedback for a friend's writing. That was good. Way better than being frustrated about my own writing. And it was fun.
Rinse. Repeat.
Nothing. Yes, some. And it was good. It did eventually lead to a bit of an anxiety attack and I wasn't going to admit it but there it is. But even that has led to good because it was and is being an opportunity to work through what I am calling "anxiety reassignment" : finding other ways to deal with anxiety than by keeping busy.
It was also a reminder that, although I may not need to Write Every Day as some writers say I should, I do have to write more often and, sometimes (often), after a period of no writing, I can't really expect to just sit down and have it flow.
So.
Do nothing. Do writing. Do breathing. Do relaxation. Do work. Do writing. Do nothing.
Then today I read this in Austin Kleon's weekly newsletter and it's perfect. Yes. This. Me.
From Austin Kleon -
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
Reading Aloud as a Writer
*
I have gone to many workshops about writing. The process. The product. Structure. Poetry Fiction Non-Fiction Essay Memoir. Oh, I think I even went to one on travel writing a long time ago. And freelance writing, copywriting. Creative non-fiction. Playwrighting. Publishing. Writing conferences and retreats.
Most rooms in my house contain, among the bookcases of fiction and memoir and scripts and art books and mystery, interpreting and translation and language, many books on writing. Writing about all of the topics I've already mentioned. And more - such as "The Portable MFA" and several on critique/writing/creativity groups, being a writer, tips and hints and how-to and how-not-to.
One thing I've read and heard many times in many voices and in various word order choices is that writers should Read Your Work Aloud,. To yourself. You can read it to others, but the most important thing is to read it aloud to yourself, for yourself.
At this point, non-writers might think - why? I get that. I really do. Because, while in theory it's a practice I see merit it doing, it is not something I do that often. Yet every time, in critique group or with a writing partner or with someone I know, when I read what I wrote, I almost always find something which I want-need to change. Almost every time.
Still, I balk.
It takes too much time (the deadline is now; I have to get to sleep; I have to get ready for work; I have a list of things to do and don't have time; the cat is waiting for food; I haven't showered yet).
It's too late (at night; I'm too tired; I'll wake up S; I have to get it finished and submitted now, I have to get up early in the morning, etc).
I've read this a million and two times and I won't catch anything, anyway.
It's fine (not perfect I'm sure, but fine).
My friends and writing partners and critique group and writing conference readers have all read it and it's fine. (Ignoring the changes which have been made since each of those times.)
There are probably more reasons. Oh, and the "I don't want to" excuse. What?
I have been working on a piece of writing. It is an excerpt from a book in process and pieces have been workshopped and edited (repeatedly) and restructured, revised, chopped, rewritten. At the Writing By Writers Methow Valley in May I was given some suggested places where this piece might fit. So, as a good writer, I looked them up and selected one (for now). I read their guidelines, which also included having to cut about 1,000 words. And then there were the other story tightening and cleaning up suggestions.
I've been working on this particular version of this part of the story for over a month. I've read it at a writing group. I've had more people read it. I've read it to myself (in my head).
Finally the piece was where I wanted it to be.
Ready to submit.
But I had not read this "final" version aloud to anyone, including myself.
I forced myself to read it out loud. This submission opportunity felt important, it's a step into another level of commitment to my writing and I decided I owed it to this story and this part of the story to give it my all. I told myself I couldn't go to bed until I'd done it and I couldn't submit it until I'd read it aloud to myself. And I'd told another writer that I was going to submit the piece and read it aloud to myself before doing that. External accountability she called it (and we're doing this mutually in other ways, too).
So I did. I went home after my very late work and I read it aloud to myself.
And I found five things I needed to fix, in addition to one more that S found in her read of the piece. Three of the five things I found felt significant: grammatical errors or awkward phrases which were remnants of editing (overlooked cutting out one word from a previous version; accidentally cut out a pronoun in editing). I even found one phrase which was not a dangling piece of overlooked revision, but an awkward phrase which has probably been in the piece since its inception.
Maybe this time I "get it." I really thought this piece was solid and ready to go. I know that of the five things I found, I probably would only have found one on my final read in my head. If that.
Reading aloud. It works.
I did submit the book excerpt. And I feel confident that this draft is solid.
*
I have gone to many workshops about writing. The process. The product. Structure. Poetry Fiction Non-Fiction Essay Memoir. Oh, I think I even went to one on travel writing a long time ago. And freelance writing, copywriting. Creative non-fiction. Playwrighting. Publishing. Writing conferences and retreats.
Most rooms in my house contain, among the bookcases of fiction and memoir and scripts and art books and mystery, interpreting and translation and language, many books on writing. Writing about all of the topics I've already mentioned. And more - such as "The Portable MFA" and several on critique/writing/creativity groups, being a writer, tips and hints and how-to and how-not-to.
One thing I've read and heard many times in many voices and in various word order choices is that writers should Read Your Work Aloud,. To yourself. You can read it to others, but the most important thing is to read it aloud to yourself, for yourself.
At this point, non-writers might think - why? I get that. I really do. Because, while in theory it's a practice I see merit it doing, it is not something I do that often. Yet every time, in critique group or with a writing partner or with someone I know, when I read what I wrote, I almost always find something which I want-need to change. Almost every time.
Still, I balk.
It takes too much time (the deadline is now; I have to get to sleep; I have to get ready for work; I have a list of things to do and don't have time; the cat is waiting for food; I haven't showered yet).
It's too late (at night; I'm too tired; I'll wake up S; I have to get it finished and submitted now, I have to get up early in the morning, etc).
I've read this a million and two times and I won't catch anything, anyway.
It's fine (not perfect I'm sure, but fine).
My friends and writing partners and critique group and writing conference readers have all read it and it's fine. (Ignoring the changes which have been made since each of those times.)
There are probably more reasons. Oh, and the "I don't want to" excuse. What?
I have been working on a piece of writing. It is an excerpt from a book in process and pieces have been workshopped and edited (repeatedly) and restructured, revised, chopped, rewritten. At the Writing By Writers Methow Valley in May I was given some suggested places where this piece might fit. So, as a good writer, I looked them up and selected one (for now). I read their guidelines, which also included having to cut about 1,000 words. And then there were the other story tightening and cleaning up suggestions.
I've been working on this particular version of this part of the story for over a month. I've read it at a writing group. I've had more people read it. I've read it to myself (in my head).
Finally the piece was where I wanted it to be.
Ready to submit.
But I had not read this "final" version aloud to anyone, including myself.
I forced myself to read it out loud. This submission opportunity felt important, it's a step into another level of commitment to my writing and I decided I owed it to this story and this part of the story to give it my all. I told myself I couldn't go to bed until I'd done it and I couldn't submit it until I'd read it aloud to myself. And I'd told another writer that I was going to submit the piece and read it aloud to myself before doing that. External accountability she called it (and we're doing this mutually in other ways, too).
So I did. I went home after my very late work and I read it aloud to myself.
And I found five things I needed to fix, in addition to one more that S found in her read of the piece. Three of the five things I found felt significant: grammatical errors or awkward phrases which were remnants of editing (overlooked cutting out one word from a previous version; accidentally cut out a pronoun in editing). I even found one phrase which was not a dangling piece of overlooked revision, but an awkward phrase which has probably been in the piece since its inception.
Maybe this time I "get it." I really thought this piece was solid and ready to go. I know that of the five things I found, I probably would only have found one on my final read in my head. If that.
Reading aloud. It works.
I did submit the book excerpt. And I feel confident that this draft is solid.
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