Flip that Switch and Compost the Soil.

Email from 26 May

Hey there!

Can I just say that I love the fact that you “barf out” stuff! I do, too, and it just feels so damn good to get it OUT and down on paper/screen!

Glad to hear the writing switch flipped! In one of her books, Natalie Goldberg talks about “filtering” (I’ll have to find this quote now that I think about it*), how things happen and they are stored in your brain but they have to stay up there and be processed and mixed in with memories and new experiences so they can then be spit out in the written word. I like the idea of thoughts and ideas kicking around in your brain until they’re just right. That being said, I need to learn more control of my writing this year. Ever get those moments when it’s kind of like a wild horse running and bucking all over the place? My problem isn’t so much about giant leaps, it’s about keeping a train of thought and not writing about this one time when I was trying to catch a chicken and then wrapping up with my favorite type of coffee mug. I guess we should be thankful, though, that the flip switches on at all?! (Why do I suddenly feel geriatric?)

You can still write when you’re traveling! Just keep a notebook handy and write down snippets to capture later. I also like the days when I’m not writing and come up with phrases or ideas (when I wrote short stories, it used to be dialogue!) and have some time to kind of play with them a bit in my head. Traveling is so good for reframing your thoughts and references and habits, it will be great! I also like having my camera to get shots of tiny details that the trip brings.

Sorry this is all so disjointed, I’m sleepy so I’m a bit more all-over-the-place trying to make sure I don’t forget what I was going to say…which officially means I need to go get some sleep now.

More soon.

xo
betsy

*I found it. And oops! She actually calls it “composting” on page 14 in Writing Down the Bones: “Our senses by themselves are dumb. They take in experience, but they need the richness of sifting for a while through our consciousness and through our whole bodies. I call this “composting.” Our bodies are garbage heaps: we collect experience, and from the decomposition of the thrown-out eggshells, spinach leaves, coffee grinds, and old steak bones of our minds come nitrogen, heat, and very fertile soil. Out of this fertile soil bloom our poems and stories. But this does not come all at once. It takes time. Continue to turn over and over the organic details of your life until some of them fall through the garbage of discursive thoughts to the solid ground of black soil.” This to me, is the very heart of all creativity.