The transcript of this speech by Jeffrey Eugenides in the New Yorker is about self censorship in writing. A great article for writers struggling with this stuff:
To die your whole life. Despite the morbidity, I can’t think of a
better definition of the writing life. There’s something about writing
that demands a leave-taking, an abandonment of the world, paradoxically,
in order to see it clearly. This retreat has to be accomplished without
severing the vital connection to the world, and to people, that feeds
the imagination. It’s a difficult balance.
Read more: http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2012/12/jeffrey-eugenides-advice-to-young-writers.html#ixzz2Iwkyal2N
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKVVkiMIkM0
ReplyDeleteHey! Where's Merc gone?
DeleteThanks for the link. I'd watch it all day just for the close up of the beautiful Mr Depp and Iggy in a bonnet ...
Beautiful stuff. Thought would give myself a work break to read just a bit and couldn't stop, hehe. Right, back to it..
ReplyDeleteYes. Mmm. Same here. Right, back to it ... :~)
DeleteGoogle + says I must be me before merc, merc says, who knows? In keeping with the archetype I just go with it. As for that scene, that film, well...it's a story, but like no other...or about the other...or, or, and yet.
ReplyDeleteYep, life of an artist. Had to reconcile that one myself.
ReplyDeleteGo out there, experience the ripping yarns in real time, go to quiet space, sit inside your own head, stare at it for a little while. Write it down and tell the truth. Faaark.
ReplyDeleteI can see his point about writing dead. It's a lovely article.