At the edge of a cliff

Every time you 

sit down to write 

it's like standing 

at the edge of a cliff

and you never know 

how you'll make it across 

the abyss without falling 

there's no net 

to catch you, 

no rope to swing from

and each time 

you pick up a pen, 

it's like closing your eyes 

and jumping into the unknown,

never sure you'll make it 

to the other side,

but it's something 

you need to do 

without knowing why

(you can ask yourself 

why for years without

getting an answer),  and

it won't change anything,

every day you still

have to sit down to write, 

and it will feel the same:

standing at the edge of the cliff

waiting for a breeze

a voice

something

to compel you 

to take that step 

into the unknown

to spread your arms 

as if they're wings

and imagine yourself flying

high above the earth

no longer afraid

no longer hesitant

gliding through the air

your pen gliding across the page

no longer tethered to earth

or to fear

free

defying gravity

finding new ways

to be yourself.

The Essence of the Process

If you read only one book about the writing process this year, I hope you'll consider John McPhee's Draft No. 4: On the Writing Process.

It contains eight essays on the writing process that were previously published in The New Yorker, the magazine where McPhee's work has appeared since 1965, and where you may have read some, or all, of these pieces.

If you have read any of these essays before, I recommend reading them again, since I find McPhee's work so rich that it can easily sustain multiple readings, each time offering up some new jewel that the reader may have missed or overlooked. And if you haven't yet read any of them, you are in for a treat.

You'll discover a man's love of the craft of writing, and a devotion to the process of putting words on paper reminiscent of a religious scribe, a man passionate about language and its usage and the delight that it provides for reveling in life's joys and mysteries.

McPhee believes wholeheartedly in revision as the core of the process. "The difference between a common writer and an improviser on a stage (or any performing artist) is that writing can be revised. Actually, the essence of the process is revision. The adulating portrait of the perfect writer who never blots a line comes Express Mail from fairyland."

If you take away just one nugget of truth from this book, let it be this one: The essence of the process is revision.

One of the things that I love about McPhee's approach to writing, and his willingness to teach writing to others (he's taught students at Princeton University, his alma mater, for years), is his understanding that each writer is cut from different cloth and approaches the problem of getting words on paper differently.

He gives us as examples the different ways his two daughters deal with the process.

"Jenny grew up to write novels, and at this point has published three. She keeps everything close-hauled, says nothing and reveals nothing as she goes along."

But keeping things close-hauled isn't the way his younger daughter Martha goes about the process.

"Her sister Martha, two years younger, has written four novels. Martha calls me up nine times a day to tell me that writing is impossible, that she's not cut out to do it, that she'll never finish what she is working on, et cetera, et cetera, and so forth and so on."

Two writers, two different ways of approaching the process.

Actually, three writers. There's McPhee himself who shares his own approach.

"It is toward the end of the second draft, if I'm lucky," writes McPhee, "when the feeling comes over me that I have something I want to show other people, something that seems to be working and is not going to go away. The feeling is more than welcome, but it is hardly euphoria. It's just a new lease on life, a sense that I'm going to survive until the middle of next month."

There's a wealth of information in Draft No. 4 that will provide sustenance for you as a writer for weeks, if not months and years, whether you write fiction or, like McPhee, nonfiction.

And if you love reading The New Yorker, you'll love learning a bit of what goes on behind its cover and pages since McPhee generously shares stories about his working relationships with editors at the magazine who have nurtured and guided him along the way.

If you're curious about the kind of advice McPhee offers, here's a link to his essay, "Draft No. 4," as it appeared in 2013 in The New Yorker: https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2013/04/29/draft-no-4 

And here's a link to the book, if you want to take a look: 
https://www.amazon.com/Draft-No-4-Writing-Process/dp/0374142742

And if you're interested in The New York Times' review of the book, click this link:  https://www.nytimes.com/2017/09/13/books/review-draft-no-4-john-mcphee.html

Beacons of Light 2012

As the year draws to a close, I'd like to offer thanks to the writers who kindly shared their insights into the writing process with Wordswimmer's readers over the past twelve months. 

These writers were willing to put aside their own work and deadlines, their time for reading or playing with their children or working in their gardens, in order to help other writers find their way into the water. 

Perhaps it's because these generous souls love stories so much that they can't resist offering other writers clues about how to get words on paper.

Or perhaps it's simply that they sympathize with the plight of anyone trying to tell a story, and their hearts can't help reaching out to others drawn to pen and paper as mysteriously as sea turtles are drawn to the sea.

Whatever the reason for their unstinting generosity, these master craftsmen and craftswomen are beacons of light for the rest of us, and their insights over the past year have helped illuminate the process of writing for us as we searched for our own words and stories.

So, please join me in offering a round of applause to thank our Beacons of Light for 2012, and then sit back and enjoy these excerpts from the interviews that appeared on Wordswimmer this past year:

Cynthia Lord: “When my writing isn't going well, I always promise myself that I'll write for 15 minutes. I show up ready to work, open the file, and set the timer for 15 minutes. At the end of that 15 minutes, I can quit if I want or do other writing jobs (answering mail, etc.). But I don't usually stop when the timer sounds, because by then I've crossed the threshold of getting started. Sometimes opening the file and getting started is the hardest part!”

from: http://wordswimmer.blogspot.com/2012/01/one-writers-process-cynthia-lord.html

Erik P. Kraft: “Dry spell or not, you have to go to the pool (or the lake, or the ocean, etc.). If you’re not there, you can’t swim. You show up, you get in the water.”

from: http://wordswimmer.blogspot.com/2012/02/one-writers-process-erik-p-kraft.html

Barney Saltzberg: “I noodle. Doodle. Strum. Write. An idea will always poke its head out and challenge me to get busy.”

from: http://wordswimmer.blogspot.com/2012/03/one-writers-process-barney-saltzberg.html

Lee Bennett Hopkins: “You ease into water slowly, inch by inch, step by careful step, until the water is totally tested. Then you plunge in and keep going until you’re exhausted.”

from: http://wordswimmer.blogspot.com/2012/04/one-writers-process-lee-bennett-hopkins.html

Marilyn Singer: “ The hardest part of writing?  Each project has its problems, from character and plot development (Where is this character going?  Where am I going with this character?) to the difficulty of working in a form such as the reverso (two poems—one reverso: read the first down and it’s one thing; read it back up with changes only in punctuation and capitalization, and it’s another).  But I’d say the hardest part is not giving up when there are many rejections.  A huge part of a writing career is persistence.”

from: http://wordswimmer.blogspot.com/2012/05/one-writers-process-marilyn-singer.html

Francesca Lia Block: [What keeps you afloat …for short work? For longer work?] “The treasure at the bottom of the sea.”

from: http://wordswimmer.blogspot.com/2012/06/one-writers-process-francesca-lia-block.html

Ellen Wittlinger: “I start with all the time-wasting procrastinations available except for housecleaning: morning news, email, Facebook, Etsy, Solitaire, etc. But when I finally push myself off the diving board, I remember what it is I enjoy about writing—the mystery of it, the unpredictability of my characters and of my own mind, the way words carry you places you never expected to go.”

from: http://wordswimmer.blogspot.com/2012/07/one-writers-process-ellen-wittlinger.html

Chris Lynch: “The part I love the most is when I hit it--a phrase, sentence, paragraph, a characterization, chapter, whatnot--and I know, my subconscious editor knows, instantly, that I got it right, achieved the elusive it. And whatever happens to the piece from there, wherever it goes, almost doesn't matter because I just got the thing, the thing of all things, that makes writing so special, so singular for every last one of us who does this at any level, in any form.”

from: http://wordswimmer.blogspot.com/2012/08/one-writers-process-chris-lynch.html

Augusta Scattergood: “I have one writer friend who'll read almost anything I email her at the drop of a hat. (Thanks, Janet!) Another who seems to be waiting for my phone call when I most need her. (Leslie's great at brainstorming.) And of course, my critique groups. I may be swimming alone for long hours, holed up in my quiet spot at the public library, but I'm never really alone.”

from: http://wordswimmer.blogspot.com/2012/09/one-writers-process-augusta-scattergood.html

Bruce Hale: “Just like when I swim in the ocean, I like to ease into a day of writing rather than doing a cold plunge.  I generally start by doing a quick-and-dirty edit of the previous day's work -- just enough to get my head back into the story, but not enough to get bogged down in minutia.”

from: http://wordswimmer.blogspot.com/2012/10/one-writers-process-bruce-hale.html 

April Pulley Sayre: “Dry spells, for me, are more like floating. Just trusting that a wave will come, or fish will gather, or birds will fly overhead. Inspiration will arise. But you have to rest and let it go and get into the most relaxed state possible. That's hard and you may feel listless, useless, and insignificant in the world while you are recovering from one project and awaiting the next.  Friends and family help. Nature helps. Doing other arts helps.”

From: http://wordswimmer.blogspot.com/2012/11/one-writers-process-april-pulley-sayre.html

I hope you'll find inspiration in reading these interviews. Best of luck with your stories and poems as you search for new places to swim in 2013.