I am often shocked, re-reading things even a few days after writing them, by how wordy and awkward my writing is. It’s upsetting. It hurts my sense of myself. But I still really enjoy writing itself. It’s one of the most pleasurable things I do.
But are you publishing it here? I thought I was already subscribed and reading you but I just went to your page and discovered neither was true. Remedied that first one, and now I'm looking for your posts. Reading back over work is a tricky escapade. I have to put my Extra Kind Hat on otherwise I'd never press Publish again.
I haven’t published anything. Adam has been patient and supportive but I’m not there. I write comments, occasionally long-ish in form (for comments, anyway) but nothing like an actual posted piece. The volume and quality of the work you put out astonishes me. I can’t imagine how you do it. I’m a dabbler, basically, not an actual writer. I think that’s enough for me.
Substack has reminded me how to play; I've always been obsessive but I'd forgotten the central point is to have fun with it, including connecting with readers. What I've learnt more than anything by publishing here is that nobody cares in the way I fear they will and everybody cares in the way I imagine they won't. It's been enlightening, strengthening and if you do arrive in the place where you are there, I think you'll discover the same. In the meantime, happy reading.
Sorry, Chris. This "actual writer" business is all bullshit. You are an exceptional writer with nothing but love, discernment and wisdom to share, and it is everyone's loss there aren't posts on your page.
So much to think about here... Thank you. Sometimes I over write and other times I under write. It is hard to gauge sometimes. Thank you for this post.
A pleasure, and it's an eternal balancing act. Ironically, or perhaps appositely, it took me ages to get that post saying what I wanted to say in the amount of words I wanted to say it in.
I've been struggling with this, being an "underwriter" perhaps - I took an online course where the profs suggested avoiding too much internal talk/self-talk, to get as much of it out in the world of the story and show it (was I imagining that advice? I've wanted to go back and check.) But then people have said they feel robbed if they don't get enough of it, and a prize contest recently sent out an email of "pro-tips" that said "Give us more feelings!" but I'm still stuck on the idea that your feelings are your own, what if my "Feel This" stuff gets in the way of what you really want to feel? I suppose there will always be Yes and No, whatever the question.
I, too, often get the note from my agent, Give Me More, and I listen to that when I hear it from her, but mostly I naturally err on the Not Spoonfeeding side of the fence, both in how I write and what I like to read. I don't want to be told how to feel by a piece of work, and this often seems to be the sum, to me, of overwritten pieces. And when I'm the writer of them, I look at what's going wrong in there and identify an under confidence that I'm getting my point across, while in truth, no amount of words will do that, rather the right words will do that, and the reader is left to make up their own mind & feelings. I don't think there's a universal right and wrong in this, I feel it's personal, our own relationship with words.
Oh this is so powerful. I am a very wordy writer (and talker) and I've been reading a bunch of pieces this morning here on Substack about when to use words and when not to use words and when there are no right words ....
Love this reminder of how much more powerful a story is when it finishes in the reader. Such a delicate balancing act. I used to compare it to the punch line of a joke. We only laugh when we complete the joke within ourselves -- two references are placed closely enough to one another that we can connect them spontaneously, and laughter is the result. Too much obscurity, and there's no flash of understanding (like the brief period when Dennis Miller tried his hand at live football commentary). Too close together and the idea detonates less powerfully.
I saw a New Yorker cartoon once that simply featured a headstone with the epitaph: "Wouldn't Stop Picking At It." Enormously funny to me because of memories it conjured of my mother. But a head-scratcher for most of my students.
Ha! And yes, you’ve explained it better than I did. When the reader completes the story. And this is why connection to readers feels so vital to me because they do complete the work, and why during the many years before I’d published a thing, I was so driven by the need to be published. I used to think it was for some sort of validation but I discover now that it was for the work itself.
Elaine Scarry puts it well in Dreaming by the Book (Princeton UP, 1999). An effective story, like Homer's Iliad, does not keep the narrative at arm's length from us. It "turn[s] our minds into the floor of its happening."
Hi Hannah, I’ve tried sharing on my system and they seem to work fine. Maybe try again, or check your settings? And thanks, I’m happy to hear you want to read more carefully later 😊
I am often shocked, re-reading things even a few days after writing them, by how wordy and awkward my writing is. It’s upsetting. It hurts my sense of myself. But I still really enjoy writing itself. It’s one of the most pleasurable things I do.
But are you publishing it here? I thought I was already subscribed and reading you but I just went to your page and discovered neither was true. Remedied that first one, and now I'm looking for your posts. Reading back over work is a tricky escapade. I have to put my Extra Kind Hat on otherwise I'd never press Publish again.
One other thing: thank you. It was very very kind of you to write that and I really appreciate it.
I haven’t published anything. Adam has been patient and supportive but I’m not there. I write comments, occasionally long-ish in form (for comments, anyway) but nothing like an actual posted piece. The volume and quality of the work you put out astonishes me. I can’t imagine how you do it. I’m a dabbler, basically, not an actual writer. I think that’s enough for me.
Substack has reminded me how to play; I've always been obsessive but I'd forgotten the central point is to have fun with it, including connecting with readers. What I've learnt more than anything by publishing here is that nobody cares in the way I fear they will and everybody cares in the way I imagine they won't. It's been enlightening, strengthening and if you do arrive in the place where you are there, I think you'll discover the same. In the meantime, happy reading.
Sorry, Chris. This "actual writer" business is all bullshit. You are an exceptional writer with nothing but love, discernment and wisdom to share, and it is everyone's loss there aren't posts on your page.
That's pretty much what I wanted to say but not having the intimacy of a brother, I held back. I stand with Adam.
Ok. Thank you both.
So much to think about here... Thank you. Sometimes I over write and other times I under write. It is hard to gauge sometimes. Thank you for this post.
A pleasure, and it's an eternal balancing act. Ironically, or perhaps appositely, it took me ages to get that post saying what I wanted to say in the amount of words I wanted to say it in.
Is Unga bunga in that list of words?
Cos it better be
I use (when no one is around) Inga Binga - a la JFK 😱💙🌌🧘
You betcha
I've been struggling with this, being an "underwriter" perhaps - I took an online course where the profs suggested avoiding too much internal talk/self-talk, to get as much of it out in the world of the story and show it (was I imagining that advice? I've wanted to go back and check.) But then people have said they feel robbed if they don't get enough of it, and a prize contest recently sent out an email of "pro-tips" that said "Give us more feelings!" but I'm still stuck on the idea that your feelings are your own, what if my "Feel This" stuff gets in the way of what you really want to feel? I suppose there will always be Yes and No, whatever the question.
I, too, often get the note from my agent, Give Me More, and I listen to that when I hear it from her, but mostly I naturally err on the Not Spoonfeeding side of the fence, both in how I write and what I like to read. I don't want to be told how to feel by a piece of work, and this often seems to be the sum, to me, of overwritten pieces. And when I'm the writer of them, I look at what's going wrong in there and identify an under confidence that I'm getting my point across, while in truth, no amount of words will do that, rather the right words will do that, and the reader is left to make up their own mind & feelings. I don't think there's a universal right and wrong in this, I feel it's personal, our own relationship with words.
I think of this as perspective taking. Writers see so many.
When I write I slash the words I think others will see without me having to "spell" them out.
The words we leave in paint our picture in the positive space. The words we leave out paint just as much a picture in the negative space.
This is how we find the other artists. Only the spatially gifted like you will see both.
yes to all of this.
Love this, thanks!
Oh this is so powerful. I am a very wordy writer (and talker) and I've been reading a bunch of pieces this morning here on Substack about when to use words and when not to use words and when there are no right words ....
Plagiarism. That is so you
I have a document filled with 15 pages of spare words from the draft I’m working on right now. The shadow word-world
Yes this. The shadow word-world. I’m stealing that phrase immediately
Love this reminder of how much more powerful a story is when it finishes in the reader. Such a delicate balancing act. I used to compare it to the punch line of a joke. We only laugh when we complete the joke within ourselves -- two references are placed closely enough to one another that we can connect them spontaneously, and laughter is the result. Too much obscurity, and there's no flash of understanding (like the brief period when Dennis Miller tried his hand at live football commentary). Too close together and the idea detonates less powerfully.
I saw a New Yorker cartoon once that simply featured a headstone with the epitaph: "Wouldn't Stop Picking At It." Enormously funny to me because of memories it conjured of my mother. But a head-scratcher for most of my students.
Ha! And yes, you’ve explained it better than I did. When the reader completes the story. And this is why connection to readers feels so vital to me because they do complete the work, and why during the many years before I’d published a thing, I was so driven by the need to be published. I used to think it was for some sort of validation but I discover now that it was for the work itself.
Elaine Scarry puts it well in Dreaming by the Book (Princeton UP, 1999). An effective story, like Homer's Iliad, does not keep the narrative at arm's length from us. It "turn[s] our minds into the floor of its happening."
*sigh. Love that.
I wanted to share this to read more carefully later tomorrow but something is wrong, buttoms don't work?
Hi Hannah, I’ve tried sharing on my system and they seem to work fine. Maybe try again, or check your settings? And thanks, I’m happy to hear you want to read more carefully later 😊
thank you ) i already sent your post to my website ) i have it already thanks again
best wishes
Ah okay thanks. I’ll have a look and see if I can fix it. Thanks for heads up.
Thank you.