I heard an excerpt from Amy Poehler’s interview about her book “Yes, Please!” on NPR the other day. Among other things she was talking about how writing is hard work, and she is right.
I have been working on my memoir SEISMIC PROPORTIONS for 3 years now. I am determined to finish this manuscript, and feel like it’s getting closer, but it’s amazing how many iterations of this story have already been squeezed out of my brain. Short stories to long form narrative. At least 7 different beginnings. Whole chapters on the cutting block. Killing. Your. Babies. It feels like placing my palm on a pad of ink and attempting to simply lay it down, smudges and all, for the world to see.
Writing does beget writing. The more I work, the easier the prose comes, and the more deft I become at making themes and my voice consistent.
Finding the honesty is probably the hardest part. I can write reams of description with alliteration and pleasing poetics — but consistently letting the reader in on the underbelly, the emotion — this is the challenge. Also finding the balance between humor and the not-so-funny — and not feeling beholden to the humor.
Back to it I go.