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Sunday, October 18, 2009

On Learning to Write

Clarity comes in disguise. I think.



I'd like to peel through the fog sometimes, to suck the very condensation out of the air as it creeps over Twin Peaks and into the city. I find myself in a writing program where I am reading, critiquing, editing, and editing; that is, doing everything except writing itself. I can't tell if what I'm feeling is more the mismatched alchemy of being back in school again after three years working, or maybe if I've somehow trained myself to instantly miss that which I no longer do. The comfort of routine is something so embedded in my bones that I don't know how else to shake it off. That, coupled with an inbred pressure to get a job, any job, to look ahead, to afford health insurance (that which shackles me and so many others to jobs we don't love), to be practical, pragmatic, responsible, efficient.

I want to learn how becoming a better writer will solve all that. And the thing is, that's a tall order. Expecting some mind-altering short story or career-launching novel to suddenly give birth in my brain is a little like hoping, no, demanding, our current president to solve all the world's problems. Now that he's got a Nobel Peace Prize, he can get down to the nitty-gritty and actually be that change he promised us last year. Right?

Ever since I quit my job to start grad school, I find myself waking up every weekday with a hummingbird's heartbeat. The first thought on my mind is to get shit done. This is motivating, yes, and sometimes crazy-making. My dad always jokes that if I were a dog, I'd be a sheepherder, because I always need a job to do. The irony is that good writing is the one task that is really difficult to instantly produce. Coffee--that I know how to make quickly. I can answer phones. I can improvise a short lesson. But how does one demand creativity of oneself? The demand itself can kill an idea.

One way I've tried to jumpstart my creative brain is to take on multiple side projects. Every Monday I volunteer at KALW 91.7, a radio station based out of Philip Burton High School here in San Francisco. Every week, a team of reporters and volunteers produce Crosscurrents, a half-hour segment devoted to culture, context and connection in the Bay Area. I've done a few short interviews, have learned to use the recorders and hope to learn ProTools in the coming weeks.

I've also started blogging for Eduify, a start-up company whose aim is to use social networking to help high school and college students improve their writing. Writing these posts forces me to focus in on exactly I want to know as a writer myself, and what resources out there will help me and others develop. So far I've written two Halloween-themed piece (one on zombie romantic comedies, the other on Edgar Allan Poe), and interviewed children's book author and poet April Halprin Wayland. I've since done two other interviews, and will be interviewing a few more writers in the coming weeks.

All this to say that sometimes the things we want most desperately are the things we must go out and create on our own. Which is why I've always wanted to be a writer, and why at the same time it is a very hard thing to be. I saw music critic and radio host Greg Kot speak this past Friday at the Booksmith. His new book, Ripped, covers the revolution that has occurred in the music industry in the past ten years. Kot's main message was that the best artists are the ones who love what they do so much that they see their art as something they simply must do. Music as oxygen. Words--the continuation of our fingers. That's the urgency I feel when I get up in the morning: the need to do, to be, to act, to write.

And who knows? One of these days, maybe all these actions will add up. Until then, I'll keep my eyes on the horizon.

3 comments:

WorldCitizen said...

re: "....a little like hoping, no, demanding, our current president to solve all the world's problems. Now that he's got a Nobel Peace Prize, he can get down to the nitty-gritty and actually be that change he promised us last year. Right?"

I'm about to harvest dinner and am distracted by hunger and can't quite discern your intent. Care to share?

re: "... Ripped, covers the revolution that has occurred in the music industry in the past ten years. Kot's main message was that the best artists are the ones who love what they do so much that they see their art as something they simply must do. Music as oxygen. Words--the continuation of our fingers. That's the urgency I feel when I get up in the morning: the need to do, to be, to act, to write."

Help me please. I understood the following:

There has been a revolution since 1999 in the music industry.

Musicians must make music. (...birds gotta fly)

Question: Are these thoughts related?

"And who knows? One of these days, maybe all these actions will add up."

Question: Add up to what?

I'm working out a few ideas and your thoughtful reply will surely hoan thoughts that currently skirt around confluence.

Rhodie

Alexandra Wilding said...

beautiful!

miss J. said...

Hi WorldCitizen -

The point of this post was to articulate how much I expect of myself, sometimes demand of myself, and how sometimes that expectation kills whatever it is I try to create. The reference to Obama's recent Nobel Peace Prize was intended sarcastically, as I think he is an important icon and good politician who has barely had the chance to achieve that which a Nobel Prize expects. In a way, someone who achieves so much so soon is doomed because he'll never quite measure up. It should be made clear that I am also a big Obama fan. And I'm also a big fan of peace activists worldwide, many of whom have been working without recognition for a great deal longer than he has.

In regards to Greg Kot's book: "Ripped" describes how a generation of music consumers revolutionized the industry by simply refusing to buy records the old-fashioned way. Many professionals and lawmakers see this as illegal because the musicians and composers lose money this way; their work is swapped and traded like bubblegum. Kot's point was that, although musicians definitely deserve to earn money for their hard work, this current trend in downloading music is forcing the entire culture to see file sharing differently. He argued that a strong musician is a strong musician, regardless of how many records he or she sells. And the strong musicians usually get their stuff out, sooner or later, because they develop devoted communities.

My final question about things adding up was in reference to my personal quest to make a creative, lucrative lifestyle of my own. It seems a bit unlikely right now, but my hope is that if I develop the right skills, maybe I'll revolutionize myself.

Hope that helps, Rhodie.