CLAIM YOUR WRITING
CLAIM YOUR WRITING
I do not mean for us all to become braggarts. I mean we should recognize that we are good inside and emanate our goodness and create something good outside us. That connection between our inner richness, our self-concept, and our work will give us a quiet peace and confidence that are hard for most artists to find. It is not "The work is bad and we are bad" or "The work is good and we are bad" or "The work is bad and we are good." It is "We are good and therefore we are capable of shining forth through our resistance to write well and claim it as our own." It is not as important for the world to claim it as our own." It is not as important for the world to claim it as it is to claim it for ourselves. That is the essential step. That will make us content. we are good, and when our work is good, it is good. We should acknowledge it and stand behind it.
TRUST YOURSELF
The best test of a piece is over time. If you're not sure of something, put it away for a while. Look at it six months later. Things will be more clear. You might find that there are poems you love and that no one else cares about. I have one poem about a window that anyone who hears it uncategorically says is terrible. I think it's brilliant. When they ask me for my Nobel Prize speech, I'll whip out that little gem and have my satisfaction.
Don't worry if you come back six months later and the piece you weren't sure of turns out to be terrible. The good parts are already decomposing in your compost pile. Something good will come out. Have patience.
THE
SAMURAILast night in the Sunday-night group, I began teaching about the Samurai part of writing and ourselves. I realized that in class I have always been very encouraging and positive. That was because we were all in the creative space together. The encouragement was not dishonest; it naturally came out of that non-critical, open field of creativity. Everything you write is fine. And sometimes more than fine. It absolutely burns through to shining first thoughts. Sometimes students say, "Well, you're not being critical enough; I don't believe you." They don't realize that we're sitting in different pools. I'm in the pool of creativity; they are busy mixing up the creator and editor and want to pull me into that fight. i don't want to go there. It feels terrible.
But last night we started to work with the Samurai. Tom brought in a loosely finished piece, Xeroxed copies, and we went over it. First of all, we looked for where there was energy. It was mainly in the third paragraph. William Carlos Williams said to Allen Ginsberg: "if only one line in the poem has energy, then cut the rest out and leave only that one line." That one line is the poem. Poetry is the carrier of life, the vessel of vitality. Each line should be alive. Keep those parts of a piece; get rid of the rest.
Be willing to look at your work honestly. If something works, it works. If it doesn't, quit beating an old horse. Go on writing. Something else will come up. There's enough bad writing in the world. Write one good line, you'll be famous. Write a lot of lukewarm pieces, you'll put people to sleep.
REREADING
AND REWRITINGIt is a good idea to wait awhile before you reread your writing. Time allows for distance and objectivity about your work. After you have filled a whole notebook in writing practice (perhaps it took you a month), sit down and reread the entire notebook as though it weren't yours. Become curious: "What did this person have to say?" Make yourself comfortable and settle down as though it were a good novel you were about to read. Read it page by page. Even if it seemed dull when you wrote it, now you will recognize its texture and rhythm.
As you reread, circle whole sections that are good in your notebooks. They often glow off the page and are obvious. They can be used as beginning points for future writing, or they might be complete poems right there. Try typing them up. Seeing them in black and white makes it clear whether they are work or not. Only take out the places where there is a blur, where your mind wasn't present. Don't change words, because in this practice you are deepening your ability to trust your own voice. If you were truly present when you wrote it, it will be there whole. We don't need to now have our egos manipulate our words to sound better or the way we want to sound: perfect, happy, on top of everything. This is naked writing. It is an opportunity to view ourselves and reveal ourselves as we truly are and to simply accept ourselves without manipulation and aggression. "I am unhappy"---don't try to cover that statement up. Accept it without judgment if that's how you felt.
I DON'T WANT TO
DIESuzuki Roshi established the San Francisco Zen Center and is the author of Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind. I have heard that he was a great Zen Master. He died of cancer in 1971. When Zen masters die we like to think they will say something very inspiring as they are about to bite the Big Emptiness, something like "Hiho Silver!" "Remember to wake up" or "Life is everlasting". Right before Suzuki Roshi's death, Katagiri Roshi, an old friend, visited him. Cottager stood by the bedside; Suzuki looked up and said, "I don't want to die." That simple. He was who he was and said plainly what he felt in the moment. Cottager bowed. "Thank you for your great effort."
So while we are busy writing, all the burning life we are eager to express should come out of a place of peace. This will help us keep us from jumping around excitedly in the middle of a story and never quite getting back to our desk to finish it. Someplace in us should know the utter simplicity of saying what we feel---"I don't want to die"--- at the moment of dying. Not in anger, self-recrimination, or self-pity, but out of an acceptance of the truth of who we are. If we can hit that level in our writing, we can touch down on something that will keep us going as writers. And though we would rather be in the high hills of Tibet than at our desks in Newark, new Jersey, and though death is howling at our backs and life is roaring at our faces, we can just begin to write, simply begin to write what we have to say.
EPILOGUEAnything we fully do is an alone journey. No matter how happy your friends may be for you, how much they support you, you can't expect anyone to match the intensity of your emotions or to completely understand what you went through. This is not sour grapes. You are alone when you write a book. Accept that and take in any love and support that is given to you, but don't have expectations of how it is supposed to be.
This is important to know. We have an idea that success is a happy occasion. Success can also be lonely, isolating, disappointing. It makes sense that it is everything. Give yourself the space to feel whatever you feel, and don't feel as though you shouldn't have a wide range of emotions. Cottager Roshi once told me, "That's very nice if they want to publish you, but don't pay too much attention to it. It will toss you away. Just continue to write." Two days ago I told my father, "I'm going to jump off the Empire State Building." He said, "Do you have to pick such a high building?" I tell myself, "Natalie, this book is done. You will write another one."
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