Last
time I mentioned that I'd be trying to write every day, just to see
if I can get any good at it. I'll be honest, that piece went on
longer than I expected and I never managed to wrestle it towards its
intended subject, so I inserted a break at what seemed an appropriate
point and split it in two. I'm undertaking this writing on the advice
of a far better writer than myself, who thought it might help. Unlike the man in question, I haven't the ability to write fiction (now anyway, hopefully it will come with time) so I'm just typing to see where it goes.
Anyway,
the second and third part of Sir Terry's advice concerned becoming a
good writer, which I don't think many people asked for advice
on, more commonly they wanted to know how to make as much money as he
had so these other pieces of advice are less widely published. The
second part was this: read, and read a lot, if you read enough words
they start to overflow and you'll find yourself writing, if you've
read good things and read widely about all sorts of subjects, you'll
have a lot of material to draw on.
This,
I suspect, will be my downfall. Back in my teens I could read two
books in a day and if I'd spent that time broadening my horizons I'd
have probably ended up reading everything in the universe, but I'm a
notorious re-reader so my horizons stay stubbornly narrow. There's a
nice eclectic mix in there but new things are rare and these days
they seem to take months to get through. However,
a glut of new books recently entered my life and hopefully I can take
some good things from the experience.
One
of these was actually written by a family member and I'm
proof-reading it for him. Through a twist in circumstance I'm not
entirely sure he knows I'm proof-reading, it could be he thinks I'm
just reading it, which presents me with the dilemma of what to do
with the points I notice that need or want changing. I've no idea of
the etiquette in this situation and I'm really reticent to give the
book back with my little scribbled notes all over it.
You
see, not only do I not know whether he's expecting any feedback or
not, the feedback I do have is harsh and I've gone far beyond the
remit of the proof-reader, for four reasons. Firstly, because if my
relative is to go from self-published to just published, which I
assume he would like to, he's going to need to get used to harsh
criticism of spellings, punctuation, grammar, syntax and such (this,
incidentally, was Terry Pratchett's third piece of advice: knowing
your commas from your semi-colons is vital). Secondly, I've been
harsh because there's a pretty good story in there but it really
struggles to immerse you thanks to its presentation and making it
easier to read will make it better. Thirdly, I love correct grammar
(though my definition of correct may be looser than some others) and
seeing it misused hurts me almost physically.
The
fourth reason is far less virtuous. Honestly, I'm jealous. I've
always thought myself a writer, even if not a very good one and
suddenly here is someone putting their skill into practice while I
wait for an idea to strike, like some hunk of stone landing on my
doorstep from which I might be able to hew a story of some kind. I've
been wretchedly comparing what I've read in that work to my own
efforts and while I believe myself to have the edge when it comes to
the nuts and bolts of writing, the author of the piece I'm half way
through critiquing has me beat all ends up on imagination and
story-telling. Together we'd make a fearsome team, though I'd never
say it to him. Instead, rightly or wrongly, I'll just tear his first
novel to pieces and try to be as dispassionate as possible so that
what I'm saying comes from the part of me that's trying to help
rather than the green eyed monster who keeps urging me to find any
fault I can purely for its own satisfaction. It's a perilous
tightrope I walk, over a chasm of despair and envy.
On
this high-wire of the soul I have one salvation. Knowing that the
trick of the tightrope walker is to lower their centre of gravity to
a point below the rope, I've fashioned for myself a heavy weight.
This is why I write every day now, to keep me balanced. I've done
nearly 1350 words today (and amazingly still haven't got around to the topic I originally had in mind) and the release I feel is not just down to
the confessional nature of the last few paragraphs, although that
will certainly have helped. I know that this burden, gladly carried,
can save me from becoming the terrible person I've always suspected
myself to be and if between that and improving my own skills I can't
find some motivation to keep on carrying it then I don't deserve to
use this keyboard for anything but facebook and gaming.
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