All posts in the writing life

the writing life: be inspired by other people’s writing

But there’s a baseball clutched in his hand and a love of the game tucked deep in his being right alongside a radical way of understanding baseball statistics.

Manohla Dargis
“Throwing a Digital Age Curveball”
The New York Times

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the writing life – quotes

sjobs

let’s let the man speak for himself.

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the writing life – quotes

ep1

i believe this. when we meet those we fall in love with, there is an aspect of our spirits that is historian, a bit of a pedant who imagines or remembers a meeting when the other had passed by innocently, just as clifton might have opened a car door for you a year earlier and ignored the fate of his life. but all parts of the body must be ready for the other, all atoms jump in one direction for desire to occur.
i have lived in the desert for years and i have come to believe in such things. It is a place of pockets. the trompe l’oeil of time and water. the jackal with one eye that looks back and one that regards the path you consider taking. in his jaw are pieces of the past he delivers to you. when all of that time is fully discovered it will prove to have been already known.

michael ondaatje
“the english patient”

the writing life – quotes

“never love a wild thing, mr. bell,” holly advised him. “that was doc’s mistake. he was always lugging home wild things.  a hawk with a hurt wing.  one time it was a full-grown bobcat with a broken leg.  but you can’t give your heart to a wild thing: the more you do, the stronger they get.  until they’re strong enough to run into the woods. or fly into a tree.  then a taller tree.  then the sky. that’s how you’ll end up, mr. bell.  if you let yourself love a wild thing.  You’ll end up looking at the sky.”

Truman Capote
Breakfast At Tiffany’s

the writing life: go driving

godriving2

writer’s block? there’s a cure for that.

go driving. what? yes. it works.

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the writing life – wake up early

morning

i wake up way before the alarm.  The light is just starting to stream through the window.  It’s quiet: a car going by, a bus a few streets away, the clink of the can man, fishing for bottles in the trash. my mind’s as gray as the light, thoughts have not yet begun filtering through. i make coffee with barely foamed milk in a big cup and pull my computer into bed with me.

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the writing life: meditate

meditate1

recently, i’ve started meditating.  sometimes i get into the lotus position, sometimes I’m lying down, sometimes I’m just sitting up.  my eyes are closed.  Now what?

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the writing life: i’m a writer

girlwriting2

 

i’ve been writing since i could hold a crayon.

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