June 20-24, 2011
Dear Friends and Family,
Putting all
your heart into your writing and then letting people read it is like
volunteering to host the Grammies stripped down to your skivvies. It’s a
real knee-knocker. In the 10 years I’ve been sending them out, my
travel missives have received at a minimum 5-10 responses per
publication… until Go Greyhound and Leave the Gagging to Us
broke the record, on the underside, with one hand clapping in the
forest. I thought at least one person would exclaim, “Can’t wait for
part II!” but alas even my most faithful followers who have been with me
since Peru 2001 remain silent. Here I reflect on the experience.
No
response is exactly the response I most needed! Emerson said, “Do the
thing you fear, and the death of fear is certain.” I asked my Diary the
other day, just how would one go about facing the fear of opinions, or a
lack of them? It’s not as easy as letting a cobra crawl on your back to
overcome a fear of snakes or scaling a skyscraper to confront
acrophobia. Diary answered, write and let people read it. Few things can
make you feel as vulnerable.
I brought this testing of my courage upon myself two missives ago when I declared a Just fuck it! war on my midlife crisis. I quote myself as saying, “what’s
‘wrong’ with my life…what has kept me from fulfilling any of my dreams
or my highest potential is worrying about what others might think.”
The puddle of not knowing in which I dogpaddle at the moment is a gift,
an opportunity to reflect on the dangers of assuming. Here’s what’s
been going through my mind in the wake of the taciturnity this last
missive provoked, followed by a just as feasible thought to replace it.
-Mom always said, “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything
at all.” Nobody has said anything because they have nothing nice to say.
-I just read a blog entry that was amusing and touched me deeply, but
I didn’t send the woman a note saying so. Why am I assuming nobody
read it, or didn’t like it if they did?
-It (the missive)was offensive. People are thinking it was racist.
-I know I didn’t intend for it to be and
that I practice do no harm to the best of my ability. I used
dialectical dialogue that identified race and age, just like I use it to
poke fun at the way we talk in the Holler. I did it to bring readers
into the moment.
-It was too gross. People don’t want to read about pee and poop.
-I
can’t help it. The Austin genes carry a sense of humor that is often
crude and if I am to be true to myself, my writing will be raw as well.
-It was boring. Why would anybody give a rat’s ass about my bus ride? My writing is at best mediocre.
-I amused the hell out of myself writing it and that’s what matters most.
Remember the story about the guy tossing beached starfish back into the sea?
Someone
says to him that he is wasting his time and can’t possibly make a
difference because there are thousands of starfish dying on the burning
sand. He threw the one in his hand back to the ocean and replied, “It
made a difference to that one.”
-It was too long. People are bombarded with stuff to read and my writing isn’t making the cut.
- My model at the moment is Bill Bryson’s 245 page travel memoir Neither Here Nor There.
It’s all about making it real and that takes paint, or in other words,
words. The goal is write so well the reader can’t put it down. If I’m
not there yet, so be it.
-I’m exaggerating too much and I’ve lost my credibility.
-I’ve
told them over and over that my stories start with a true event and
then my imagination takes over. That’s what makes them fun to write and
amusing to read. It’s my trademark. Call it Magical Realism, if that
makes it more acceptable.
In the end, these travel
missives are but practice, not just of the art of writing, but the highs
and lows of praise and criticism. Sometimes it’s as sweet as the smile
of my great-niece, Rayna, and sometimes it stinks worse that an
overflowing bus toilet. I’ll steal from Nike, who updated Emerson and
conclude with Just Do It…and wait for my starfish to clamor for part II.
As always, many thanks for reading and much love for just being who you are in my life, G
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