The possibility of a post for this week became iffy as the close of last week hammered down on me. The critiquing of my one and only novel hounded me to no end. I was faced with the probability that I needed more grammar instruction without the money to afford it.
English is currently the universal language, yet, for the life of me, I don’t understand how the rest of the world can bear it. There are so many exceptions to any and all of the rules governing it. And I’m an American. Without the money to spend on college courses, I’m going to have to rely on fellow writers who have had these classes to point out where I make the mistakes concerning these blasted exceptions. It’s exasperating, to say the least.
Waking up yesterday morning, it hit me I hadn’t even started writing a post for today, Monday. I had less than 24 hours to get one written, edited, and uploaded with a picture of some sort. I didn’t even have a topic in mind.
If you’ve read here once at my blog how much I value silence when I write, you’ve read it at least ten times. Anyway, that’s the way it feels to me. I knew I couldn’t begin my writing until husband left to go fishing with his brother. While I waited, I attacked my email inbox full of notifications of posts by fellow bloggers. The first one on the list was from Amanda Staley, titled What it takes…. She discussed her struggles with the writing life and how some advice she had read threw her for a loop. [You should read this article. It’s a good one.]
It got me thinking about how I could improve my writing by reading more books on the subject. Except, I have 5 books sitting on a shelf next to my computer desk that have yet to be read. I’ve glanced through a couple, finding them finding they read more like textbooks from high school. My interest plummeted.
I have 2 books that discuss the craft of writing in the bedroom that I have tried to learn from but have been clobbered by the boredom bug while reading them. They still sit unfinished. Do I need to try harder to get through them? Have I picked up the wrong books for myself?
The attempt to gain anything from these books has left me feeling doubtful and apprehensive about my abilities as a writer. I know I have a passion for this craft and I don’t want to lose that. It’s what makes me eager to sit at this desk every day. My muse rarely leaves me. There are only certain conditions I have a difficulty writing and will make it waver. I don’t want my resourcefulness to dry up because of skepticism inflamed by what I’ve read.
Are there books out there that will inspire instead of cripple passion and muse?
Passion and muse are essential for the craft of writing. Without it, anything penned is going to be flat and lifeless. Because I feel strongly about this, I’m going to have to be more careful about the books about writing I buy. I’m going to have to seek out reviews on each one I consider and from people whose judgment I trust.
Have you found yourself picking out the wrong books about your craft?
“The saddest people I’ve ever met in life are the ones who don’t care deeply about anything at all. Passion and satisfaction go hand in hand, and without them, any happiness is only temporary, because there’s nothing to make it last.”
― Nicholas Sparks, Dear John