posted by
nightbird at 02:21pm on 07/12/2009 under be a magpie
I love Genreality. I don't follow a whole lot of writing blogs, but this one and Writer Unboxed are two favorites, particularly because they're so genre-focused. I realized a long time ago that literary fiction was not where I wanted to make my place, and it's lovely to find like-minded people who say such great things in the same vein on a consistent basis. (Part of me thinks that rebranding Unlined as some sort of writers collective with occasional issues of fiction might be really cool. It's worth investigating, I think.)
Anyway, moving back on target: today my Google Reader delivered not one but two gems from Genreality. The first is by a guest blogger named Shiloh Walker: like me, she does not truck with the idea of a muse. (Oh wow — and let me just say that that's the first time I've used Dreamwidth's journal search function, and ohmyheart I love it.) I think she nails something about this preference on the head when she says that, as an author, writing is mine. This creative process is my engagement with the world. Having what seems like a petulant, surly, passive-aggressive being turning a spigot on and off at will is so much less appealing that just interacting with ideas.
The next is about cutting back deadwood words. I've done editing on pieces where I've just tightened sentences and I'm gobsmacked by how much I lose in the process. It always makes me a little giddy, to be honest. This is the thing that I learned most about my time as a copyeditor, that so much of what we write the first time around is just us trying to get that idea down, the proverbial block of marble with the David lurking inside it. (Of course, with words it's less about stone and maybe more about something with wires and beads and found objects: you do a lot more rearranging than you do with sculpture, which has some limitations if you're working from a block of stone.)
It also teaches you a great deal about your own writing. I am fond to the point of absurdity of pointing out facial expressions, eye contact and what people are doing with their hands. Another part of editing has to be letting go somewhat of how much you're controlling what your reader imagines. It's worthwhile to craft a story; it's not always worthwhile to storyboard it.
Anyway, moving back on target: today my Google Reader delivered not one but two gems from Genreality. The first is by a guest blogger named Shiloh Walker: like me, she does not truck with the idea of a muse. (Oh wow — and let me just say that that's the first time I've used Dreamwidth's journal search function, and ohmyheart I love it.) I think she nails something about this preference on the head when she says that, as an author, writing is mine. This creative process is my engagement with the world. Having what seems like a petulant, surly, passive-aggressive being turning a spigot on and off at will is so much less appealing that just interacting with ideas.
The next is about cutting back deadwood words. I've done editing on pieces where I've just tightened sentences and I'm gobsmacked by how much I lose in the process. It always makes me a little giddy, to be honest. This is the thing that I learned most about my time as a copyeditor, that so much of what we write the first time around is just us trying to get that idea down, the proverbial block of marble with the David lurking inside it. (Of course, with words it's less about stone and maybe more about something with wires and beads and found objects: you do a lot more rearranging than you do with sculpture, which has some limitations if you're working from a block of stone.)
It also teaches you a great deal about your own writing. I am fond to the point of absurdity of pointing out facial expressions, eye contact and what people are doing with their hands. Another part of editing has to be letting go somewhat of how much you're controlling what your reader imagines. It's worthwhile to craft a story; it's not always worthwhile to storyboard it.
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