Writing rituals from Tom Montag

Tom Montag has another great post for writers, from a talk he gave on "writing rituals" or habits. I’m summarizing here, so go to his post for the whole enchilada. The habits he talked about included:

o Understanding and harnessing one's obsessions.
o Having no expectations.
o Writing without purpose as well as writing with purpose.
o Likewise, keeping journals in addition to working on projects.

o Blogging.

o Putting oneself in the situation where work is necessarily squeezed out.

I liked the piece on journals especially. Calling himself a true believer in keeping journals –“I think we can be our freest, truest, most authentic selves in our journals; we can write in them without pressure” – he encourages writers to keep all kinds:

“I told them to keep daybooks and project journals, dream journals, nature journals, walk journals, "wake up in the middle of the night" journals - however many they need of whatever kinds they wish. I told them to take their notesbooks with them always and everywhere - often we don't get a second chance.

But of course I also had to excerpt his comments on blogging:

o Blogging. Putting up a blog, I said, is a kind of promise you make to your readers that you will stay at your work; that everyday you will show some of it to the world. Making that promise really can energize one to get work done. Writing is a loneliness task; keeping a blog also offers the possibility of community. But I warned, too, that we must stay focused on what our real work is; you already know, don't you, that you could spend way too much time blogging and reading other people's blogs, at the expense of your real work. Well, you could....

Oh, as if. ;-)

3:09:29 PM      trackback [] 

Fitful

Dream: I’m shopping in a grocery store. I ask a clerk for help and he points me to the artificial maple syrup, big plastic bottles of the stuff. But that’s not what I want. I want the real thing. I’ll keep looking. I spot on a top shelf, hidden behind something, a honey bear full of the good, sweet stuff. I smile. Yes, this is what I want.

Not a lot of sleep last night, lots on my mind… options, alternatives… fitful dreams… a kiss that’s not a kiss… Is there sand still in that hourglass? I can’t tell, it’s too dark… Some people live so much in their heads they don’t see what’s right in front of them, blind, blind… What was that I said before about Wings of Desire? That angel, there’s a man who knows what he wants… to taste an apple now, to taste his coffee now, to love… You can only taste what’s in your mouth, not what you’re thinking you might want to eat later… He knows what to value, what to hold dear... The angel loves the trapeze artist, doing her high wire act... she feels her fear and goes on anyway, more courage in her little finger than you’ll ever know… she wouldn’t have it any other way… The angel knows, he has it too. He chooses this little bit of mortality, knowing it will all end, chooses it.

5:57:09 AM      trackback []