You have to write the things you were "called" to write. There's a wish to be topical and earth-shattering, but sometimes the thing that really obsesses you is a recent trip to Rite Aid. You have to give proper respect to that memory of your Rite Aid trip.
Cheryl Strayed uses the slightly obnoxious phrase "called to write."
Meg Wolitzer says, "Go back and look at your Internet search history from yesterday. That thing you researched? That's the thing to write about."
Surprise them. It seems to me that a writing career is one prolonged war between the things you fixate on and the wish to be new. In other words, if given your druthers, you might write about Taylor Swift EVERY SINGLE DAY. But: You have to bear in mind that a reader might want to be surprised.
Honor your obsessions: This is why Sondheim is continuously thinking about subtext and power plays.
Keep it new: This is why, despite the fact of Sondheim's abiding passions, SS also stays fresh by switching from a Victorian melodrama, to a Bergman film, to some Grimms Brothers fairy tales.
On a related note, Bruce Springsteen claims to be able to sense what his audience would like to hear from him next--album-wise. A curious sixth sense.
Keep it emotional. Richard Yates complained about various postmodern writers because he thought the content of their work was too chilly.
I do think a piece of writing needs to have a kind of "fire" underneath it. The thing is: the subjects you *expect* to provoke fire, in you, may not be the subjects that actually deliver. In other words, you might waste a day trying to get impassioned about Brett Kavanaugh, when, in fact, the story that God has given to you, for the morning, is a weirdly rant-ish account of a phone call with a telemarketer.
Take a walk around the block. This is maybe the best advice. Amazing things happen when you leave your desk.
Abandon formulae. Stephen King has a big piece coming out this weekend. It's about Tana French's "The Witch Elm." Early in the piece, King argues, smartly, that leaving behind the "Dublin Murder Squad" seems to have liberated French in some important ways. In other words, it's not just the "content" that feels new. There is--apparently--a new sense of forcefulness in the writing. The wind is in French's sails.
King says this happens when you allow yourself to write a "stand-alone" novel. He might have been thinking about his own career, and maybe even about a renewed fieriness he felt when he left behind
"End of Watch" (part 3 of 3, in a series) and began thinking about "The Outsider." Hard to say.
Of course, Stephen King is a Stamina Guru. He could give lectures on longevity alone. He gets pissed when other writers take too long to deliver their follow-ups. (Witness his stern words to the thriller writer who produced "A Simple Plan.")
Stephen King--and, say, a prolific songwriter like Taylor Swift. These two allow themselves to chase their own daydreams. They have decided they are entitled to be heard. (Elena Ferrante: "Writing is a bizarre and selfish occupation, because it involves saying to yourself, My thoughts are worth hearing. No one will make that pronouncement for you; only you can announce it, and announce it to yourself.")
Not to play into the White Savior problem, but: Many of the (occasional) good decisions I've made in my life can be traced, in one way or another, back to Taylor Swift.
Cheryl Strayed uses the slightly obnoxious phrase "called to write."
Meg Wolitzer says, "Go back and look at your Internet search history from yesterday. That thing you researched? That's the thing to write about."
Surprise them. It seems to me that a writing career is one prolonged war between the things you fixate on and the wish to be new. In other words, if given your druthers, you might write about Taylor Swift EVERY SINGLE DAY. But: You have to bear in mind that a reader might want to be surprised.
Honor your obsessions: This is why Sondheim is continuously thinking about subtext and power plays.
Keep it new: This is why, despite the fact of Sondheim's abiding passions, SS also stays fresh by switching from a Victorian melodrama, to a Bergman film, to some Grimms Brothers fairy tales.
On a related note, Bruce Springsteen claims to be able to sense what his audience would like to hear from him next--album-wise. A curious sixth sense.
Keep it emotional. Richard Yates complained about various postmodern writers because he thought the content of their work was too chilly.
I do think a piece of writing needs to have a kind of "fire" underneath it. The thing is: the subjects you *expect* to provoke fire, in you, may not be the subjects that actually deliver. In other words, you might waste a day trying to get impassioned about Brett Kavanaugh, when, in fact, the story that God has given to you, for the morning, is a weirdly rant-ish account of a phone call with a telemarketer.
Take a walk around the block. This is maybe the best advice. Amazing things happen when you leave your desk.
Abandon formulae. Stephen King has a big piece coming out this weekend. It's about Tana French's "The Witch Elm." Early in the piece, King argues, smartly, that leaving behind the "Dublin Murder Squad" seems to have liberated French in some important ways. In other words, it's not just the "content" that feels new. There is--apparently--a new sense of forcefulness in the writing. The wind is in French's sails.
King says this happens when you allow yourself to write a "stand-alone" novel. He might have been thinking about his own career, and maybe even about a renewed fieriness he felt when he left behind
"End of Watch" (part 3 of 3, in a series) and began thinking about "The Outsider." Hard to say.
Of course, Stephen King is a Stamina Guru. He could give lectures on longevity alone. He gets pissed when other writers take too long to deliver their follow-ups. (Witness his stern words to the thriller writer who produced "A Simple Plan.")
Stephen King--and, say, a prolific songwriter like Taylor Swift. These two allow themselves to chase their own daydreams. They have decided they are entitled to be heard. (Elena Ferrante: "Writing is a bizarre and selfish occupation, because it involves saying to yourself, My thoughts are worth hearing. No one will make that pronouncement for you; only you can announce it, and announce it to yourself.")
Not to play into the White Savior problem, but: Many of the (occasional) good decisions I've made in my life can be traced, in one way or another, back to Taylor Swift.
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