Posts Tagged ‘writing’
Cindy on March 15th, 2009
How many a man has dated a new era in his life from the reading of a book. ~Henry David Thoreau, Walden
Last week, after I mentioned that Virginia Woolf’s A Room of One’s Own was one of the most influential books I’d ever read, my friend Ellen asked me to list my top 10 “life-changing” books. I love a challenge like that. And what perfect timing, since March is National Reading Month!
As I told Ellen, my list of “Top 10 Life-changing Books” is a little odd — or eclectic — for many reasons. For one, a “life-changing” book isn’t necessarily a great work of literature. (I was an English major in college, so I had to read a lot of great literature.) So much depends on what I was going through at the time I read a particular book. When I first read Anne Frank’s Diary of A Young Girl, for instance, I was barely 12 and just beginning to dream of becoming a writer. That book blew open my perspective on a lot of key issues — and it narrowed down my career goals.
Taking Ellen’s challenge to heart, I quickly listed the first titles I could think of that had the biggest impact on me when I read them. And I couldn’t stop at 10 books. So, in no special order, I offer the following:
Walden, by Henry David Thoreau
A Room of One’s Own, by Virginia Woolf
The Mysterious Stranger, by Mark Twain
The Diary of A Young Girl, by Anne Frank
The Magus, by John Fowles
Dandelion Wine, by Ray Bradbury (tied with Bradbury’s Something Wicked This Way Comes)
The Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath
The Portrait of A Lady, by Henry James
Tess of the D’urbervilles, by Thomas Hardy
The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitz
The Awakening, by Kate Chopin
Letters to A Young Poet, by Ranier Maria Rilke
To Kill A Mockingbird, by Harper Lee
If You Want to Write, by Brenda Ueland
The Feminine Mystique, by Betty Friedan
Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott (really young when I read this- – big impact!)
Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, by Annie Dillard
The Dance of the Dissident Daughter, Sue Monk Kidd
Care of the Soul, by Thomas Moore
Operating Instructions, by Anne Lamott
The Artist’s Way, by Julia Cameron
Gift from the Sea, by Anne Morrow Lindbergh
The Crosswicks Journal (a memoir trilogy), By Madeleine L’Engle
I know I’ve neglected to list a few other favorites, but this is a good start. Now it’s YOUR turn. I’d love to read your list of “life-changing, perspective-altering, heart-stopping, I-gotta-read-it-again” books. — Cindy La Ferle
Cindy on March 10th, 2009
If you really want to write, you will do it anywhere: under trees, on the bus, in the bathroom, or in a booth at a noisy cafe.”
First published in 1929, A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf has been reduced to a catchphrase for writers and architects who haven’t even read the book. Originally penned as two lectures, Woolf’s landmark essay asserts that every woman writer should have a substantial income and a room of her own if she is to produce literature worthy of publication and readership.
Furthermore, Woolf said, women who want to write ought to be given the freedom to travel — and they must have plenty of idle time for daydreaming and creating. That was very progressive talk for the 1920s.
And while it isn’t exactly earth shattering today, A Room of One’s Own is still considered a major milestone for women writers. Whenever I’m asked to name 10 books that changed my life, this one never fails to top the list.
Excuses, excuses!
Not surprisingly, the subject of finding privacy and “the perfect writing space” always comes up in the writing workshops I teach. In fact, not having a room of one’s own is the most popular excuse for not writing anything. I’ve met a few self-described procrastinators who do have an extra guest room but insist they can’t work there because it’s poorly lit, uninspiring, too small, too cluttered, too close to the neighbor’s window, or cursed with bad feng shui.
But sooner or later, every writer arrives at this truth: If you really want to write, you will do it anywhere: under trees, on the bus, in the bathroom, or in a booth at a noisy cafe. Serious writers need only a pen and a notebook to get started. And nothing — not even a bad view or ugly curtains — will stop us.
That said, I believe Virginia Woolf made an excellent point about the need for peace and privacy, and she didn’t even have kids to distract her.
Setting boundaries, closing doors
When my son was a toddler, I began freelancing in the damp basement of our 1920′s home. If you’re a younger parent who’s eager to combine writing with motherhood and housekeeping, setting up shop at a kid’s craft table next to the laundry room might sound convenient.
But I quickly discovered this was not what Virginia had in mind.
Working in a murky basement was actually a metaphor for the way I undervalued my career at the time. Aside from the fact that the ambiance was vaguely reminiscent of Freddy Krueger’s boiler room, my desk was typically littered with construction paper or my preschooler’s science experiments. Settling in to write, I’d find blue finger paint or Play-Doh oozing from my paper-clip container. My scissors and rolls of tape mysteriously disappeared. Meanwhile, the clothes dryer kept buzzing — which didn’t exactly impress the editors who phoned about assignments.
A year later, I moved my office upstairs to a small library with lots of windows overlooking the yard. Not long afterward, I began taking my work more seriously.
Most important of all, my home office has a glass door to establish my boundaries. Even though my essays and newspaper columns are read in public, I’ve never liked the sense of other people looking over my shoulder while I draft new material. So I usually keep the door closed while I work.
Clearing your own space
Every writer is different, so you’ll have to experiment until you find what works for you.
Not long ago, I met a parenting columnist who’s also the brave mother of four little boys. She rented cheap office space just ten minutes from her house, which seemed like a brilliant idea at the time. But after three months of commuting back and forth to work and trying to coordinate an awkward breast-feeding schedule, the columnist admitted her new office wasn’t so ideal. The clamor of family life is what kept her energized and motivated.
If you don’t have the luxury of a spare bedroom or an attic with a desk, claim a corner of the house where you can focus on your work. Use the area just for writing (or your other creative projects) and keep supplies within easy reach. Put up a folding screen for privacy while you work; or use it to conceal your works-in-progress. Creating an official space for your creative life will dignify your goals and intentions. You’ll find it easier to establish a routine — and harder to keep making excuses.
If you don’t already have a room of your own, can you describe your ideal space — right down to the supplies you’d need? What would you have to do to make it a reality? – Cindy La Ferle
Note: Part of this essay is excerpted from a previously published essay “Home Sweet Office” — which appears in full in my book, Writing Home.
Top photo: a detail from one of my altered art pieces inspired by Woolf’s A Room of One’s Own. Bottom photo: a glimpse of my recently remodeled home office in Royal Oak.
Cindy on February 24th, 2009
There are two things people want more than sex and money — recognition and praise. –Mary Kay Ash
Everyone’s talking about the Oscars this week — the clothes, the stars, “the winners.” And over at Whole Latte Life, Joanne DeMaio recently asked what it means to be rewarded, honored, or crowned in some way for the work we do. She got me thinking.
A few years ago, when my son was a child, he heard me talking about the annual press awards for local newspaper writing. A couple of days later he presented me with a “World’s Best Mom” certificate that he’d made with his crayons and markers. I think I was working a little too hard at my writing career in those days. So that handmade “award” from my son was both a sweet reminder and a wake-up call, not to mention a tremendous honor. I still can’t think of a prize that could ever top that one. –CL
Cindy on January 6th, 2009
The key question isn’t “What fosters creativity?” But it is, why in God’s name isn’t everyone creative? Where was the human potential lost? How was it crippled? I think therefore a good question might be not why do people create — but why do people not create or innovate? — Abraham Maslow
Lately I’ve been feeling stuck, burned out, immobilized. And it’s not just because I’m worried about the so-called print media crisis. I’ve been working long enough to know that periods of fallow time are part and parcel of the writing life. I know that all writers go through days or weeks when the work feels off, or never good enough — when self-doubt is a faithful office companion. And I know that it passes soon enough.
In her new book, Stuck: Why We Can’t (or Won’t) Move On, Anneli Rufus talks about why so many of us struggle to make necessary career changes when we know it’s time to move on. Or why we can’t seem to mend relationships that aren’t working. She details some of the things that keep us stalled — living in the past; holding grudges; the need for instant gratification; bad habits; perfectionism; consumerism. I recognize my “stuckness” in many of Rufus’s pages.
Thankfully, I’ve learned over the years that my best antidote to writer’s block is focusing on different creative projects that have little or nothing to do with writing or publishing. Cooking a beautiful meal, for one example, satisfies my need to work with my hands and to offer something that will nourish others.
But I’ve found my greatest satisfaction working on mixed-media collage or constructions in the art studio upstairs. This art form requires that you use “found objects” or whatever else you have at hand — sort of like rustling up dinner from the pantry when you haven’t had time to grocery shop. It’s imaginative and messy and challenging. (The piece of art shown in the photo above is an example of mixed-media construction, recently created by my husband Douglas.)
When my life feels like a series of disparate parts that don’t make sense, mixed-media collage is also wonderfully therapeutic. Crafting a collage, like writing an essay, requires that I look at my world in new ways. I hunt for beauty in places I’ve overlooked before: tool boxes; hardware stores; the recycle bins in my garage. I’m compelled to hunt for possibilities in thrift shops and my own junk drawers. Every object is sacred in the mystical-ordinary sense, and even junk mail is worth a second look. Everything has a story waiting to be told — not necessarily in words, but in shape, form, texture and color.
I’ve been writing steadily and professionally for nearly 30 years, and I don’t imagine that I’d ever stop altogether. Keeping a journal and posting these essays is my way of making sense of the world. But this year it’s likely that I’ll devote more time to artwork and look for new ways to explore my creativity. Shifting the balance feels a little risky now (change always does) but that’s what makes midlife fresh and exciting. This could be the year I take the leap — and get unstuck. — Cindy La Ferle
– Original artwork, “Dad’s Younger Brother,” by Douglas La Ferle –
Cindy on December 29th, 2008
“Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each year find you a better person.” — Benjamin Franklin
I stopped making New Year’s resolutions a long time ago. They rarely stick — and only serve to throw me into a vicious cycle of guilt, remorse, and self-contempt for the better part of January.
Instead, I stumbled on another ritual that works in the long run. I call it my “lessons in the rear-view mirror” exercise, which is simply a review of what I learned throughout the past year. Here are a few of my hard-earned epiphanies from 2008:
* Change, hope, democracy, and possibility aren’t just verbiage for a campaign slogan. Despite an incredibly vicious presidential campaign that pitted neighbor against neighbor, the first African American was elected to the highest position of government in the United States. The epitome of grace under pressure, Barack Obama reminds me that anything is possible in America, and that people who expect more from life (and themselves) often get it.
* When friends and neighbors truly love you, they won’t sever the relationship just because you didn’t vote Republican or put Obama signs on your lawn. The really good ones still bring you coffee cake.
* Frugality is cool again. In the midst of a long recession, conspicuous consumption has gone the way of the manual typewriter. Many of us woke up to the fact that we already have everything we need — including a supportive family, longtime friends, good neighbors, and a closetful of unworn clothes that still have price tags hanging on them. Our houses are big enough, our cars are new enough, our lives are rich enough. Enough is enough.
* There’s no such thing as “getting ahead.” When everything around you is changing rapidly, slowing down to catch your breath is often the best course of action. I regret that I spent the first half of my life dashing frantically from one activity to the next, as if there were a contest for the achiever who got it all done first. “What will your tombstone say?” humorist Loretta LaRoche asks us to consider. “Will it say, ‘Got it all done, dead anyway?’ ”
* We all deserve to be paid what we’re worth, whether we practice dentistry, carpentry, or journalism. Our experience and expertise have value — and others have more respect for services they have to pay for. When I give away my professional skills, people not only perceive me as generous, they also think of me as a walking freebie. I also make it harder for my colleagues to earn a decent wage.
* Parenting is the most important job a person can ever do, and it’s worth giving it the absolute-best you’ve got. Kids grow up faster than you can say “empty nest.” It’s a sappy cliche, I know, but until you watch your kid pack the car and drive off to his own new place in another state, you don’t really believe it.
* When someone steals one of your best ideas, it’s hard to get it back.
* You can’t take anything for granted. The Detroit newspaper crisis got me thinking about my 25-year career writing for print media. My smallest paychecks — and my biggest thrills — were always earned from a byline in my local newspaper. As Joni Mitchell sang, “Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone…”
* Support networks really work. Having a posse of gifted writers with whom to commiserate has kept me sane — and hopeful — and I’m forever grateful for their friendship. Despite all the bad news for print media, writers are an optimistic bunch. Already, fresh ideas are brewing and there’s plenty of positive talk about publication start-ups and new ways of making a living with words. There’s hope in the midst of change.
* Love makes everything better. Everything.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
– Cindy La Ferle
