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Posts Tagged ‘writing’

Writing, edited and unedited

After not writing for a couple of days here, I feel blunted off a little bit. In the fervor of writing every day, my mind came alive to many things to talk about. Isn’t it funny that it would go away so quickly?

I have been doing some sort of writing on a regular basis, even if lackadaisical, for many years. Much of it is in the form of writing practice. When P’s and my writing group was bigger and more central to our lives, we had several gatherings where we invited other people and we all read our work. Those of us in writing group are accustomed to reading unedited work out loud, and it was something of a shock to realize that it could use a little polish.

Writing in the blog is similar. It’s not totally unedited – I often post it, reread it, and then make some changes – but it’s definitely nothing that I’ve polished and worked on lovingly for weeks. I read somewhere recently that blogs are a place for all the unpublished novelists of the world to put their [and here the word ‘bad’ was implied somehow] writing out for everyone to see.

I guess I don’t care. I’m enjoying doing it, and nobody has to read it. It’s not the novel I’m writing, just a little random blab.

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Well, not NO writing at all. Just no writing group. 12 or 14 years ago, P and I started a writing group. We’d been reading Natalie Goldberg, notably Wild Mind, and doing writing practice on our own, and it was great. We wanted to be in a writing group, but we were afraid to seek one out. “We can’t be in a real writing group! We’re not real writers!” So we started our own, with several other “not real” writers. Our number has fluctuated up and down, sometimes being as high as eleven (which is too many!) and in the last few years being two and a half. The two are me and P, and the half is our friend Judy who comes sporadically, and occasionally (but not for a long time) Lucia, and a few people who started coming and then couldn’t fit it in, alas.

Sometimes it’s called the Church of Timed Writing, because we meet on Sunday morning, and we use a timer. We follow the rules in Wild Mind, which I won’t list here, but my favorite is “You are free to write the worst junk in America.”

P is much better about constant writing than I am. That makes sense, because she is a storyteller. I sometimes write for a living, but that hardly feels like “real” writing. But doing NaBloPoMo has been really effective at getting my writing going. I keep thinking of novel ideas.

1. Two sisters think their father is dead. But their mother actually left him when they were very young. Later, they meet up with him. Surprising things result. I want to have a dramatic deathbed scene, but this might not be the novel for it.
2. Auuugggh! I keep getting interrupted. I’ll try to add more later or tomorrow.

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