Writers Write (And Think About Writing)

Noticing the world around us is the first step to writing

At a party this weekend, someone asked me if it is true that writers can't help but write.

"Yes," I answered enthusiastically, hoping that he didn't notice that I was blushing.

With all of my scheduling time to write, piles of books to read and lists of ideas and submission deadlines, I haven't been writing this year. Not really. My son has been sick, I've been sick, my husband's been sick, and I'm busy with teaching, not to mention laundry, cleaning up and more cleaning up after a toddler.

Writers write and I should be writing.

As ambiguous and wishy-washy as this sounds, I've been thinking a lot about writing. Lines of poetry have come and gone and some of them have been written down. I've noticed sunlight on the floor and my son's dimple and tried to memorize these images with words.

I have been blogging, which is writing, although different from poetry writing, and teaching writing. I think and talk about writing all day. Last month I went to a poetry reading and drafted one (terribly emotional and not-for-public-viewing) poem.

Writing is how I comprehend the world. Chosen words placed in a particular order and the pauses between them allow me to make sense of things, whether I've read or written them. I leave you with these lines from a poem by Gregory Orr:

from Untitled {a house just like his mother's}
by Gregory Orr

A house just like his mother’s,
But made of words.

(...)

Did I mention
That everyone he loved
Lives there now,

In that poem
He called “My Mother’s House?”