Finding Inspirational Words from Sarah Shapiro–Defining Jewish Writing, Part 2

A couple of weeks ago, some of the comments on a post I wrote about defining Jewish writing revolved around the introduction to Sarah Shapiro’s All of Our Lives. I took a workshop with Sarah–who writes, edits, and teaches amazing writing workshops that have inspired many fledgling Jewish writers–and have a lot of respect for her opinions, so I borrowed the book from a friend (thanks Miriam!) in order to more accurately represent Sarah’s opinions here.

Sarah’s essay “The Writer’s I” reflects several of the issues I discussed in my original post. Jewish Writing can be defined by the author’s identity, by its subject matter, or can be considered a completely arbitrary label. She personally feels that “all three are right,” but admits the difficulty in establishing a single definition.

Sarah goes on to say that attempts to identify or define specifically Orthodox Jewish writing are even more complicated. Continue reading

Some clear ideas from the author of Cloud Atlas, David Mitchell

Wednesday’s L.A. Times online contains an intriguing interview with David Mitchell, the author of the novel Cloud Atlas, which has recently received renewed attention due to its film adaptation. Mr. Mitchell’s comments are worth reading, as they illuminate some of the points I’ve been blogging about recently.
On the topic of inspiration (see my original post here), Mitchell says:

I think Mr. Mitchell just blew some of those clouds away. It looks like smooth sailing ahead!

When I go to a place I get a number of free gifts. I get some good lines about the environment. If I was here for long enough, and could have a little time to walk around more thoughtfully, I’ll get five decent sentences. Or halfway decent sentences, or sentences I can make worthwhile. About the place; they’re textual photographs. I’m just in the habit of taking them. Maybe because it was a long time before I had a camera.

Do you jot them down?

Yeah. It gives you something to do in restaurants and not look like a sad sack. And also makes the staff nervous that you’re a reviewer, so they’re nice. You should try it, it works! If you get these free gifts, use them in the text, use them in the prose, use them in descriptions. Put them in and they’re lovely little things to find on the forest footpath of the story, of the book. 

What’s interesting about the process that David Mitchell so clearly describes is that its both what I’ve previously called “the flash” of inspiration AND “foraging” for it. Continue reading

Am I brilliant or not so much? A writer’s self-confidence bounces on a po-go stick.

Yesterday, I was reading the daily post of a great blogger, Bottleworder. His topic? The benefits of being dumb. It’s worth reading.

Today, I’m not going to write about the benefits of being dumb, but something that afflicts many writers: feeling dumb.

“Have you read this yet, Eugenia? It’s brilliant, I tell you! That Rebecca Klempner’s going to win a prize one of these days!”

When I read something I’ve written in the past, I usually have one of two reactions:

1) That was brilliant! I wrote THAT? Was I channeling or something? Wow.

2) I can’t believe I wrote that. Why, oh why didn’t I (insert suggested improvement here) before I submitted? It could have been so much better. People are reading this drech?  And my name’s attached to it? Can I hide now?

I think that writers like me have the self-confidence of a pogo stick. Up-down-up-down. If this were just a matter of my self-esteem, I’d keep this discussion to myself, but it actually affects my decision-making skills relative to my writing.

When do I submit? Is it good enough? Will it be accepted as it is, or will some editor laugh at my sub and then tell his buddy in the next cubicle about how terrible it was.

Is what I wrote actually funny, or did the members of my writing group (and my darling husband) only laugh because of the intonation of my voice while I was reading? Or because they were feeling punchy after too little sleep?

You catch my drift. Continue reading

Did I write that book?

I just had yet another one of those heart-stopping moments where I saw a book title, then read the review of the book and thought:

OMG! I WROTE THAT BOOK!

I’m pretty disgusted with my reaction. I’m sure my idea isn’t so original that no one else could’ve had that same one. Yes, I had my idea before that book was published—but what if that author thought of it first? Or maybe she didn’t think of it first, but she executed it better?

-sniff-

I’m chalking this up as another exercise in, “I’m only responsible for my effort, not my success.” If I was meant to sell that manuscript (I did shop it around a bit), then I would have sold it.

The end. Now it’s time to suck it up.

How can you offer someone advice without taking it yourself?

I was corresponding with a client last night who is–among other things–considering publishing an ebook to distribute among clients and potential clients. I was telling her I thought it was a great idea, how it can be done with relatively little expense, yadda yadda yadda.

And then I thought to myself, “Hey! Why don’t you take your own advice?”

Not only might it generate business, but it’ll give me experience using the tools available on CreateSpace (or Lulu, or whichever service I go with) that will prove useful if I help last night’s client (and hopefully future ones) with their projects. I spent an hour and a half last night clipping bits from emails and blog posts to consolidate into a short ebook. It’ll take a few more hours just to complete the writing and editing of the material, and I’m sure it’ll take a while to design the ebook. But I’m excited about this little side project.

So the next time you offer someone some brilliant advice…prepare to take it yourself!