Another short rant about writing.

Used by permission of Rhonda Whiteman.

June 7, 2016 @ 1247

My clock is two minutes slow.  A great metaphor.  Got to pick up the pace, move it ahead.

Re: last evening’s marathon writer’s group, I see common threads.  Of course not every one of us has written their truths to the same extent, but most in our group have. I’m talking an amazing extent, showing our ugly, true, selves as we have to nobody else.  Hey.  Maybe we’re not so ugly after all.

Pain and loss drive our writing.

One of us lost her ranch because severe drought put her out of business.  She is, or was, a fourth-generation rancher.  She radiates truth, renewal, hope.

Along the same line, another lost his mother and struggles with his feelings of emptiness and loneliness.  He has joy and insight.

Yet another is reaching out in the autumn of his life in love and humanity to aid his friends who struggle with substance abuse and addiction.  And pain.  We need such maturity in our group.  An abundance is not too much.  He has quietude and self control.  He has accomplished huge deeds, yet speaks mildly.  Okay, he raised $10 million to support small businesses on Indian reservations.

Several of us struggle with depression and our loss of innocence.  Also loved ones who have died or been unfaithful.  This sounds vague.  That’s the point.  Our writings seek to change the vague to the specific.  We might work things out by writing.

Pain prevents any rest until we have told our stories.

It’s like writing can soothe us.  We can imagine an end of suffering, but we must write it out.  We want to tell it.  We do.  Then comes the fear.  Do we dare tell it?  Will people dislike us?

Stephen King said in his book about writing, not to worry.  Yes, people dislike us.  Some always do.  It’s okay.  Writers are unlovely.

Sometimes the world seems overwhelming and sad.  At these junctures we are cheered when we spend four short hours with our writing friends, talking about their stories and suggesting ways they might better express them.

The aim is always to listen and help.  But first of all, to love.Yes, first of all, we love.  Because we love, we ultimately will not fail.

Oh, we will fail as many times as necessary at first, but ultimately we will triumph.