Showing posts with label Janet Frame. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Janet Frame. Show all posts

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Gifted

The other day I brought an audio book by Anne Lamott to my day job for a colleague to listen to. Remarking on the author's accessibility through a mix of self-deprecating humor and just saying it like it is, I wondered aloud if Lamott mulls over every turn of phrase or if sometimes the words just come. 
 
 
"Oh, writers like her have a gift," my colleague responded. 

The implication was that by virtue of being bestowed with brilliance, authors and poets simply channel their passion to the page. No real striving required. Lamott, herself, disagrees. In her how-to-get-off-your-tuchas-and-write classic, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life, she says:

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Mucking Around

Annie Dillard writes, in her essay To Fashion a Text, "It's a privilege to muck around in sentences all morning." Each morning before (paid) work, I open the laptop for 2 hours to wade through the muck. Sometimes the words flow and constructing sentences is a pleasure. 

It can be difficult to click 'shut down' and prepare for the 15-minute drive down the backcountry road, past the sheep fields and old farms, to the school where toddlers hold up their arms to be held. Most days I have to remind myself that it is, indeed, a privilege to write. But that knowledge doesn't make the task any easier.

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Literary Influences


Sandra Cisneros's House on Mango Street was one of the first texts to provoke a conscious response in me as a young writer of seventeen. I could relate to Esperanza's themes of confinement and liberation as she and other characters tried on the roles of womanhood while living in a house with windows "so small you'd think they were holding their breath." Navigating the longings and betrayals of a young life, I tried to emulate the lyrical prose and deceptive simplicity of a girl's poetic ruminations on discovering herself.

Perhaps the most influential memoir I've read is Julia Scheeres's Jesus Land, a tribute to her close relationship with her adopted brother as they dealt with racism, reform school and a religiously fanatical family. Her scenes are cinematic, rich in character and dialog. I've rarely grieved a character so. Her book is a testament to resiliency, and breaking from the shadows of silence by telling true stories.
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