Practice

Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life.

-Anne Lamott

As I have written before, in my quest to become a better writer, I joined a local writing group called The Writing Mamas. The class caters to mothers and creates a warm, safe place where you can write, share your writing, help one another make contacts, and get published. It is perfect for me right now. The class acts as a support group, creative outlet, and infuser of inspiration.

It is a good place to hone your skills by getting critiqued in a gentle way. I need some help in this regard although it seems I am only pointed in a direction. I think I need to work on my sentence structure and on my style. It is one of those things that is only half-taught, as far as I can see. I keep looking for books to help me. I am currently reading Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott, which I am thoroughly enjoying, but it seems more catered to fiction writers and I am trying to work on nonfiction articles and essays.

I want my writing to flow better. It is amazing how much work goes into a piece of writing. It never fails to leave me in awe, after I read something simple and elegant, realizing how much the author must have worked shaping her thoughts into elegant paragraphs. That is what I am striving for in my writing: simple, elegant and clear writing still voluptuous with feeling and imagery.

In any case, I am inspired and hopeful and enjoying those feelings. I know they are fleeting and that the most important thing is to be consistent. Consistent, moderate effort seems to be the theme of my thirties, an anecdote to the all or nothing of my twenties, and hopefully the underpinnings of a modicum of success in my forties. At least that is the way I am looking at it now.

I am going to work a little more on the writing for class last night and will publish it here tomorrow.

Day Two and Company

I wake up every morning at nine and grab for the morning paper. Then I look at the obituary page. If my name is not on it, I get up.

-Benjamin Franklin

Day one down, we are now on day two. This is good, a little hard getting used to the new schedule and I am tired, but I will get used to it. And I'm pregnant, tired is fairly normal.

I feel good and hopeful. I am also re-starting the morning pages, a tool I have used off and on from Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way. It is a full twelve week program that I have never been able to really do but I have always tried to do at least the morning pages. Maybe I will get motivated and do the whole program. I have heard from friends that it is quite life changing/enhancing/directing/motivating.

Ok, well I must get on. I need to finish an anti-foodie (I know, I know, me write an anti-foodie piece? Well, you will understand when you read it), and the inspiration and flow is flagging so I have to just, as Ann Lamott would say, get my really shitty first draft out of the way. So maybe not finished, but started.

Then I need to do some home stuff, yard work, week-wacking, some extra house cleaning, and food shopping. In anticipation of guests that I am so excited about seeing. Today one of my oldest and closest friends is coming to visit, fresh from a month long trip to Indonesia that I haven't heard enough about. I went to Indonesia in my early twenties and have always wanted to go back.

Katrina, my brilliant, busy sister is arriving Saturday morning and I am almost hopping inside to see her. Yes, weird, but that is how I feel. She will be here till Monday and then my mom arrives Sunday to stay till Wednesday! And I have my writing class on Sunday and hopefully my article will have evolved past it's shitty first draft into a gleaming, publishable piece to have reviewed.

And I think I will make some zucchini muffins to really get the bed and breakfast feeling going. I found a good, basic recipe the other day, and with a little creative license, made them my own: cardamom, sun dried cranberries, and slivered almonds!