Nov 8, 2009
“Aren’t you afraid the humiliation of rejection will kill you?”
Elizabeth Gilbert at TED, talking about the fear that lingers behind the nagging need to write, the curious nature of genius and what happens when you keep showing up to do your job.
Bonus points for using Tom Waits as a positive role model.
Nov 8, 2009
NaNoWriMo: Back on the horse
After taking a few days off post-TEDx, I’m back on-course, at 13, 339 words. And today is not yet over (though the finale of Mad Men looms, with a giant time-sucking sound.)
Nov 5, 2009
Tom Stoppard on writing, via Scott Simon at today’s TEDx MidAtlantic
It had been years since I’d thought of this beautiful passage about writing until I heard Scott Simon quote it this morning at TEDx MidAtlantic. It comes from the amazing play The Real Thing, by Tom Stoppard:
“Words… They’re innocent, neutral, precise, standing for this, describing that, meaning the other, so if you look after them you can build bridges across incomprehension and chaos. But when they get their corners knocked off, they’re no good any more… I don’t think writers are sacred, but words are. They deserve respect. If you get the right ones in the right order, you can nudge the world a little or make a poem which children will speak for you when you’re dead.”
You can see Scott Simon’s magnificent presentation here:
(No direct link, sorry. Select his talk from the scrolling list on the left)
Nov 3, 2009
NaNoWriMo inspiration: Laura Lippman
Maybe it’s because we used to work for the same newspaper. Or maybe it’s because she nails the details of Baltimore in her books. Or maybe it’s because the woman can write the hell out of a book and leave you wondering how she does it.
Whatever, I’m a fanboy, a homer. So here’s summa Baltimore’s pride and joy, Laura Lippman.
Nov 2, 2009
“He’s a writer looking for inspiration…”
Who remembers this great movie about finding the writer’s muse?
Nov 1, 2009
In which Mr. Nabokov dissembles while moving to the couch
Somehow I’ve gotten this far in life without hearing Vladimir Nabokov’s voice or seeing him move. Oddly cartoonlike for such a wickedly good writer. I love how he’s clearly enjoying the hell out of himself here.
Me, elsewhere