This Writing Life . . . .

By Kathryn Magendie  |  April 8, 2017  | 

flickr creative commons Joe Flood “writing=breathing”

“I often think that the best writing is done after you’ve forgotten what you wanted to say, but end up putting something down anyway just as though it were the actual evidence of your original intention.” Clarence Major

Has this happened to you? When you sit down to write, the idea won’t come, the original thought stalls. The words are stuck in your finger’s throat. But if you keep writing, put down the words that do come, soon something else emerges, something that does work and that you can be excited about.

Then, follow that new thought without letting the original thought tie you to a metaphorical iron post, simple (and as complicated) as that.

Sometimes our mind is changed before even we know it needs to be changed. There are many times when we must follow where we are led. What a journey! This is living, folks. This is writing. This is manipulating the language and story without constant constraint—ah.

flickr creative commons Krisztina Tordai

“The use of point of view is to bring the reader into immediate and continuous contact with the heart of the story and sustain him there.” Tom Jenks

Your reader will see, feel/experience, and be through the “eyes” of the character who speaks. To me, the characters are not just the heart of the story, they are the story. My characters spark my imagination, and along with my setting (a whole other character, actually), they give me joy in my writing. As your characters should for you, or some variation of that feeling.

Consider photography. When I have the camera, I am the controller of that camera lens. I see and interpret through the lens and then I take snapshots so that others may see, or experience, what I have seen and experienced. Until I share the image I have captured, no one can know what I am thinking or feeling. I show them. I tell them.

If I hand the camera to George, he then sees everything through his own eyes/interpretations. I can’t know what he sees and what he is thinking, what has captured his imagination/interest, until he relays it to me by showing me the photo, and as well tells me about it—and through both the showing and the telling, I see and experience through his eyes/his experience.

We writers have the beautiful opportunity to give readers, through our character’s point of view, experiences that they can relate to, but also to allow our readers unique experiences through as many ways as we want to write.

“Surely the test of a novel’s characters is that you feel a strong interest in them and their affairs—the good to be successful, the bad to suffer failure.” Mark Twain

If you are not interested in your characters and what they do and say and are, why should anyone else be interested? If you do not believe in your work, why should anyone else believe in your work? Believe me, it will show. The reader always knows.

Give readers your best. Give readers your heart. Give readers your interest. Give them the truths—and this word “truth” may mean more than what first appears to you. Writing what you know doesn’t have to be so literal, so concrete, for we can interpret it in as many ways as we allow ourselves to, as long as we speak a truth at the kernel of it, or even the whole of it.

“You start out putting words down and there are three things—you, the pen, and the page. Then gradually the three things merge until they are one and you feel about the page as you do about your arm. Only you love it more than you love your arm.” John Steinbeck

This quote resonates to my marrow more than any other. To write my published five novels and the novella; the published short stories, essays, articles; the blog posts on my own blog, here on WU, and on various other blogs; and then all the hundreds of thousands of words not published—some that never will be, some that one day may be—I’ve sacrificed time with family, friends, time “out in the world,” time doing something other than sitting before a blank page that fills up with what at times seems to be complete nonsense and self-indulgent pratterings. All without knowing how it would (and will) turn out for me and for my words and my worlds and my characters. That I often call writing “the one true love of my life” sounds a lonely and sad experience—it has been the love of my life, and with intense love also comes pain and abandonment and joy and euphoria and anger and madness. But giving it up meant a death, a rotting away from the inside out. To give up something I have fought so hard for and sacrificed much for has been painful.

Oh! But there are those times when the world as we know it goes away and our own inner world takes over, and soon the words come and the characters speak and the story forms and there is nothing else but this world, this place, this feeling we as writers are creating. Hours pass and at last we pause our fingers over the keys and look up and—wait! It can’t be three o’clock, for just a moment ago it was eleven o’clock. We have been to other-worlds, alternate universes, going gone, and the coming back to the real world is surreal—at times seemingly less real than the created world from which we’ve just left as we hit “save” and rise from our writer’s chair stiff-jointed and distant-gazed. If someone speaks to us or texts/calls us during this transition, we may not answer right away, because we aren’t quite yet ready to enter the real of reality.

Not every writer loves her craft. Not every writer enjoys manipulating the language. Not every writer is deliriously happy every time he sits down to work. Well, if you do not always love it, so what? If you want to write, then write. Write what excites you and motivates you and makes you happy, or, if you will, makes you money if that’s what you strive for and there’s nothing wrong with that goal because we have bills and mortgages to pay and wouldn’t it be lovely if our writing could pay them?—be it a novel, a short story, essay, a blog post, letters, family memoirs, journals, technical papers, recipes. You owe no one an explanation, or apology, for how you live your writer’s life.

Find your comfortable space, or challenge that comfy spot if you want to. Consider just why you do this thing you do, whatever it is you want to do. It is yours. It is This Thing You Do.  And when you push it out into the world, strange and surreal and terrible and exciting birth, be proud of your accomplishment, and then go on to the next and the next and the next until you are done.

This is the writer’s life.

“Whatever you want to do, if you want to be great at it, you have to love it and be able to make sacrifices for it.” Maya Angelou

Pah-Damn, y’all.

Any quotes you keep around your writing area that are dusty and old and yellowed and you forget they are there, then, suddenly, you see them and go, ‘hey! I like that quote; I’d forgotten all about it!’ and you gaze at it longingly and lovingly and then with sudden angst because you wish you were famous enough to write a quote that is put in writing areas by anxiety-ridden writers looking for just one ounce of hope out there in the echoing land of writers, and you throw the quote in the trash but then pull it out, smooth it, and place it right back with a smile and with a deep breath you get back to work or at least tell everyone or pretend that’s what you are doing when really you are writing an extremely long rambling question made to inspire comments but then you don’t want to make it seem like you really care about comments at all but sometimes you do and so you look up more quotes but can’t find any that relate to what you are right now feeling so you just trail off and . . . ?

21 Comments

  1. Vaughn Roycroft on April 8, 2017 at 8:56 am

    I have a couple under the glass on my desk, but I only have one that’s framed and beside my computer screen: “Blessed is the man who has found his work.”–Elbert Hubbard. It’s sort of sexist wording (and Kim Bullock could tell us a thing or two about Hubbard in that regard), but I happen to be a dude, so it works for me. Plus, it works on a couple of levels. Mainly it reminds me to get over myself, and focus on what matters (it’s the work, in case that isn’t clear). It also reminds me how lucky I am (and being a dude isn’t really part of that equation, in case it isn’t clear…. Though I’m good with my gender…. Ah, never mind).

    I also like: “Nothing stinks like a pile of unpublished writing.”–Sylvia Plath. So there’s that.

    Fun and thought-provoking, as always, Kat. (Cracked up when I read your comment prompt, too.)



    • kat magendie on April 8, 2017 at 9:35 am

      What’s wrong with celebrating your gender and all its Vaughn-ness! :D

      Ah, that stinky pile of unpublished crap-a-doodle-doo-doo! Alas, I know thee well, stinky gooey pile!

      Thank you for leaving a comment – now I can heave a sigh of relief – my work here is done.

      :D



  2. CG Blake on April 8, 2017 at 9:56 am

    I don’t have any quotes from writers that I pin to the wall, but I am going to save this great piece. There is so much sound advice here. There is no feeling like being in the zone. I’ve sat in front of a blank screen for an agonizingly long time and I’ve had periods where I’ve sat down and started writing and suddenly five or six hours have passed. Like you, I have always believed that stories are about characters. I’m at the point in my WIP where I finally know my characters. It only took five years. I am so happy you are writing again. All the best to you.



    • kat magendie on April 8, 2017 at 10:49 am

      I’m very excited you are writing CG – you know how much I did so love your first book “Small Change” – hurry and write the next one! *laugh*



  3. Laura Becker on April 8, 2017 at 10:18 am

    “You owe no one an explanation or aplogy for how you live your writer’s life.” What a great – and validating – sentence. Thank you!



    • kat magendie on April 8, 2017 at 10:50 am

      I see so many writers apologizing or agonizing over how or what or when or where they write! Why put all those conditional stresses on ourselves? We are who we are and we can do as we damned well please with our writing life!



  4. Angie Ledbetter on April 8, 2017 at 10:20 am

    Nail on head as always. (And LMAO on “final thoughts.”) Fav dusty prompt buried somewhere in my as yet incomplete office: BICFOK! (Butt in Chair, Fingers on Keyboard!)

    xo Angie



    • kat magendie on April 8, 2017 at 10:52 am

      And when you put that butt in the chair and those fingers on the keyboard, it will produce/complete that beautiful kickass REAL LIFE book of poetry that I’m still waiting for, and for which others will snap up!



  5. David Corbett on April 8, 2017 at 12:37 pm

    A novel is like a bow, and the violin that produces the sound is the reader’s soul. –STENDHAL



    • kat magendie on April 8, 2017 at 2:06 pm

      I need to chew this one around a bit – it’s lovely.



  6. Tom Bentley on April 8, 2017 at 1:50 pm

    “You know how it is in the kid’s book world: It’s just bunny eat bunny.”

    The book I got that out of says it’s anonymous, so if it was any of you WUers—Kat, you seem a possible—fess up.



  7. Virginia McCullough on April 8, 2017 at 2:22 pm

    I so enjoyed this piece–and am gratified to see an unapologetic expression of love for writing. I share that and can get almost giddy talking about it. I also lived in Asheville, NC for eight years, so I know exactly how lovely your environment is. Thanks for this essay. I’m adding it my collection.



    • kat magendie on April 8, 2017 at 5:15 pm

      I live in Maggie Valley – so in the “off season” months, there are 1000-1100 residents here, and since I live in a little area where not many full-time residents reside, it’s so very quiet and serene (though tourist season can be a little busy sometimes!). I live in a little log house near a rushing creek. :) It’s an environment conducive to writing.



  8. Beth Havey on April 8, 2017 at 4:25 pm

    Thanks for reminding me to look up and read: “…because writing literary fiction allows me to live within my imagination, and that is the greatest gift you can have.” John Leggett, 1917-2015



    • kat magendie on April 8, 2017 at 5:16 pm

      Ah, us literary fiction writers need all the encouragement we can get :D



  9. Michael LaRocca on April 9, 2017 at 2:47 pm

    This is, indeed, the writing life.



    • kat magendie on April 10, 2017 at 6:45 am

      Yes, indeed it is . . . .



  10. Janna Bushaw on April 12, 2017 at 11:36 am

    I might keep this post posted by my computer, it’s so lovely. It reminds me of Barbara Kingsolver’s novel The Prodigal Summer, which I read a decade ago (maybe longer) and still, the slow meandering river, sunlight hitting the surface just so makes me long to be inside these pages. Truthfully, I can’t remember if there is a river flowing in the book, but this is what has remained after reading about a woman living in the forest for a summer. Your love of writing shows and brings up images of my own. Wonderful, Kat. xo



    • Kathryn magendie on April 12, 2017 at 12:35 pm

      This made me smile, Janna. Thank you – your words mean much more than you may know.



  11. Luna Saint Claire on November 28, 2017 at 11:23 am

    This was an awesome post – thank you! I have a paperweight that says “Never, never, never give up” — Winston Churchill. Taped to my screen is something I read here on WU and it may have been by David Maass “Take characters where they hate to go.” I also have a post-it with The Practice is the Art and that was from Dani Shapiro’s book Still Writing.