The reading, the writing... the living

One of the major joys in my life that I allow to slide by unattended to is reading. The time commitment is an issue, as is my tendency to throw books with bad writing across the room in anger. When a book is worth it, it's really worth it. When it's not, I want to sue for my time back (though at my current wages, it's not really worth the suit). All good books give the reader at least one morsel to chew on for a long time after the actual read - one of my last reads, On Writing by Stephen King is no exception. It's a sort of chit-chatty book about how he became a writer and what to avoid or do in one's own writing (and avoiding a alcohol dependency seems to be part of it).

I'm a major believer in loving a book - really loving it. The first thing a good reader should do to a book is crack that damn spine. A lot of time and heart was put into it and a reader should go in expecting dirty hands - treating a book like it's a fragile, sacred thing only decreases the reader's comfort and increases her distance. My copy of Camus' Stranger has been so devoured that it's held together by a rubberband. All of my notes are in it - each read in a different color so I see how my perception changes, how my connections to Camus do too. My library at home, and a library it is, is a private collection - not just of books, but of notes, underlines, stars and an occasional circle. I go back to books not just for the author's words, but for my own renewed take. It's all I can do to not mark the hell out of a book, which makes relying on borrowed books incredibly difficult. If it's a fluffy read, fine; but if it's a good read, or even one that triggers something in my mind, I want to bend the page, make the words stand out in some way... come on! The author would want me to!

Stephen doesn't have anything to say about my philosophy of reading (probably because it's just so obvious), but he does point out that a good writer is a good reader and an active one. One doesn't create in a bubble and she should be aware of what others have already done - especially what works and what doesn't. The beginning writing mimics good styles and through such flattery begins to tease out what works and doesn't for her - it's a creative playground. Agreed. (Shocking that I haven't been doing either particularly well...)

Stephen also states that a good writer must be a truth-teller - someone completely open and honest.... and (this has been one of my chewy morsels) that "if you intend to write as truthfully as you can, your days of a member of polite society are numbered". I've never really prided myself on being a member of "polite society" and think of it as quite a fake bore anyway, so no great loss there. However, how truthful can one be in one's writings without completely ostracizing oneself? Plenty of people have written memoirs about both their personal and professional lives, but how many of those documented people still speak to the author?? I wonder. And think the answer's: very few. I don't consider myself a dishonest person with the people in my life, but I don't think I openly and publicly dissect them either. There's some cruelty in that, even if it's only identifiable by the person themselves. It's something I struggle with though. This blog is introspective, but still rather private. I've mentioned people but not gone into full-blown analyses. There's something incredibly dishonest, and even cowardly, about airing that much laundry to the world, especially when it's not your own. But...when what you see and think about are PEOPLE and RELATIONS how do you not write about what you see? How are you honest but respectful? I guess I still hold on to being polite. Hm.

Another nugget Mr. King threw out there was: "fear is at the root of most bad writing". This (coupled with the fear above) really has me thinking. See, my writing has been complete and utter shite lately. No focus or clarity. No particularly deep thoughts or anything close to an epiphany. Just garble. I feel good as a person, but as a writer I'm running on fumes. I know/think/feel that it's possible and, even typical, to be happy because something is being successfully avoided. I don't think happy people are necessarily avoiders (though I have my suspect) but I do think avoidance can lead to the illusion of happiness. The fact that I have no clarity or focus (or drive even) makes me wonder about the sincerity of my current state. Truthfully, I feel like I've hiked to a plateau and am catching my breath before the next big climb. I'm not staying here and it's not who I am. I'm just getting some refreshments, refueling, taking in the scenery and then starting on my way again. I know this isn't the summit or where I want to be, but I'm ok just enjoying the breeze for now.

Worse thought: happiness is the root of most bad writing. If so, what do you choose? Answer's not so easy on this end. And I suspect I'd choose the writing. In part because I link it to the journey. To the quest. In part, because it's a part of me that has to live. In part because I do believe that permanent happiness is an illusion...and that's the part of polite society that I have no shame bucking.