Introduction to my book: A Friendly Guide to Writing and Ghostwriting
So you want to write a book. An intriguing idea has captured your imagination and you feel haunted. It plays out in your dreams and it follows you everywhere you go. You feel hopeful and inspired. You can hardly wait to get the words on the page. You can do it. Why not? But first you have to learn how.
Writing is a simple act that involves arranging and rearranging twenty-six letters on a blank page – with some punctuation thrown in for clarification. I call it simple, but it isn’t easy since there are a lot of challenging decisions to make along the way. Your alphabet letters are at the ready in your virtual tool box. Your screen or the page (if you write by hand) is like a vision board that reminds you where you are, where you’ve been, where you’re going and where you want to end up. Your ideas are beacons that light up the path and your mind is like a stovetop with pots simmering on every burner, bubbling up and asking for your attention.
When you’re inspired, the pots boil over faster than your hands can skim across the computer keys. Like a planchette gliding soundlessly over a Quija board, your fingers take on a mind of their own. You get so immersed in your alternative world, you lose time and place as you set out to create something that didn’t exist before. It’s like waking up, chasing a dream and finding a way to hold it firmly in your grasp.
When you’re not inspired which is more often the case, it takes a world of patience and grit to stay focused as you hope and pray for the writing muse to grace you with her presence. It could take a long time or she may show up in a minute. Or not at all. Like a hummingbird, flitting, sipping sweet nectar from scarlet poppies and purple petunias and taking off again, the muse is here one minute, gone the next. But whether or not she comes and however long she stays, your job is the same – to keep on writing.
Although the well-known adage, “A Writer Writes,” sounds pretty straightforward, it’s no easy task to allow the process to unfold in its own way, in its own time, without trying to control it. We human beings abhor being out of control, but that’s what good writing requires. We have to learn to live in the midst of chaos and tolerate not knowing where we’re headed or what might show up. None of the steps are quick, easy, or tie themselves up neat little bundles. We have to keep moving forward, anyway, blindfolded and trusting, loose ends hanging everywhere, hoping that we end up with something heartfelt and authentic. And when we do, all that came before is so worth it to get the heaviness off of your chest and heal your spirit.
The writer’s life is made up of unfinished ideas, dangling participles, and flashes of memory that seem unreachable, all powered by a yearning to tell a story or share a teaching. Moving forward takes determination, organization, stamina, more stamina, a willingness to listen to informed criticism and a mighty desire to express yourself and your ideas without filters. It also takes a lot of love, both for yourself and for your work.
You start out as a leader, dreaming up ideas, shaping your material and placing the words where you think they belong. But with a little luck, you become a follower as you watch the words come pouring out and rearranging themselves as if you had nothing to do with it. This is thrilling, the thing that every writer yearns for – getting into the zone and allowing the progression to happen in its own time. It’s like watching a wave crash onto the shore and ebb out, leaving crabs, colorful sea shells, and strings of seaweed in its wake. These are the pearls of writing wisdom, the hidden gems that inspire you to dive into your psyche, unearth the secrets there, illuminate new ideas and express them boldly.
I don’t think you can teach yourself to write in the literal sense. What you can do is make friends with your inner critic, remove the obstacles to your creativity and allow your natural talent to shine through. When you make a commitment to trust your instincts and flex your writing muscles day after day, they’ll become strong, consistent, dependable and available.
Poet Laureate Maya Angelou said:
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”