Today I'm picking up on Peter Morin's blog of yesterday. You should check it out. He is a funny delightful guy who is represented by the same agent as I, Christine Witthohn of Book Cents Literary Agency (http://petemorin.wordpress.com). Pete tells a great story in this posting about cleaning out his parents' house. It got me thinking. What is precious?
I grew up in a household where anything and everything was special- as long as you had a reason for it to be special. By that I mean if it's a tool that will help you with a task, it's special. If it's a plate hand thrown by the potter presented as a gift, it's special. If it's an empty box filled with packing peanuts that just might be of use next year, it's special. If it's the apron hand painted by my four year old daughter, it's special (that one still lives in my drawer used frequently and she's in graduate school now).
On the other hand, I was also raised to let go. "Don't covet. Move on." I moved 11 times (I think I've counted right) before heading off to college. My parents continued to make many more moves, buying and selling houses with an ease that is at the professional level. Opportunities were out there. Exciting and wonderful things to be done. It's infectious. They are certainly not vagabonds, just incredibly brilliant people who always found something more to help them grow, do and learn. They now live in the special family house that has been with us for 102 years (all through the women, I might add).
When do you decide that the precious (the house my parents now live in) cannot be relinquished and when do you remind yourself "Don't covet. Move on." The beautiful glass dining room table my husband and I loved cracked after a cleaning person dropped the vacuum cleaner wand on the edge. I held my breath and then kept saying, "Don't covet. Don't covet." My wonderful Golden Retriever puppy brought me one of my cashmere sweaters. She proudly dropped it in my lap, then spit out a chunk of the sleeve along with the remains of the garment. "Don't covet. Move on."
One of my favorite stories belongs to my grandmother. She was a Bostonian and all that that can sometimes mean. One day when I was about 10 she was folding laundry and chatting with me. As a young woman, probably in her late teens or early twenties, she was given a pair of silk stockings. It was a special gift from her mother. She looked at those stockings every day, folded carefully in tissue paper and kept in her top dresser drawer. Each time an event of importance came around, she thought, "The stockings. I'll wear the stockings." Nope she would think. It's not special enough for these wonderful stockings. A particularly nice man asked for a date. The stockings.. No, it wasn't special enough. Finally there was the moment, the right time, just perfect for the stockings. She took them out of the drawer and there were moth holes throughout. She never wore those stockings.
The words I type that appear before me become a bit like that. The ones that today seem so perfect, so precious, so just right for what I want to say often look stale tomorrow. Do I use them? Is it a waste to cut them? Do I send them to the "out takes" file? Do I just move on? Will I be able to create new ones that will do a better job?
I think I do both. Some of those words deserve to be saved but need elaboration, like pearls added to my outfit for a nice evening out. Some deserve to be forever banished. Some stand just right.
How do you make those decisions? What is precious and speaks to who you are as a writer? How do you make that decision? We are so subject to critiques, commentary and others' opinions it can be a challenge to remember that for you-- precious is your definition.
8 comments:
Great post, Cassy! Loved the stockings story :-)
I have learned to let go of a lot of things, especially in my writing. Favorite titles, favorite character names, favorite lines...
I think you have to be open to other people's opinions, especially your agent and editor's...when the time is right, but first you have to just write the story and worry about what to covet or "not" in the editing phase or the story will never get written.
Kari: I think you are so right. If I spend too much time worrying about the exact details from the get-go, nothing makes it on paper. Jump and and let yourself enjoy the story.
On the other hand, there have been times when I named a character something that just didn't work. Once I came up with a new name, it came together differently. Odd, isn't it?
Thanks Cassy.
I'm like you Kari, I have had to learn how to let go of my writing. Sometimes--more often than I'd like--the first 2 to 4 chapters are tossed once it's finished. Then I have to fill in the middle, etc. I still like the advice Stephen King gave in On Writing. Let your work sit six or seven weeks before you review it. Move on to something else while you want and when you do edit, it's not your baby any more. It makes it much more easy to let things go.
I have a terrible time with this. I have clothes that fit me 30 pounds ago. "I'll start that diet tomorrow and then I can wear them."
Last year, something really unexpected happened. My best friend found out she had breast cancer. I watched her give up her breasts, her hair, and sometimes - her dignity - all with the grace of a woman and never without her sense of humor peeking through.
I decided than and there that nothing was as precious as my family, my God and my heath. Everything else is gravy.
A few weeks ago, my editor ASKED (yeah, like I had a choice) to change not only my Book Title, but also my Series Title. When you've called your sweat and blood something for so long, it's difficult to suddenly switch gears. I almost felt like a cheating spouse.
But I went with the flow - love the book title and the series title is starting to grow on me.
So, my advice today - dig out that sexy lingerie before it gets moth holes..and celebrate life.
Sorry to get so philosophical on you, but this post touched my heart. I'm off to throw out those skinny clothes!!
Go for it, Mary. I hear you about tossing the first chapters. I have found that if I keep them too dear, well, the story bogs down. I too have found that letting the chapters sit for a month or so helps.
I think I've mentioned it before, but if I let too many comments from others come in before the incubation period I chase my tail. I try and please the critique folks before I have even had a chance to decide for myself what I think.
Thanks so much for your comments. We do need each other.
Liz: Your brought tears to my eyes. I have gone through a similar situation--watching someone battle what would put many of us immobile- yet survive with style, flair and pride. It's a lesson that can't be treated lightly.
I have had an unusual flip on the "can't let go syndrome." I too have clothes, shoes, bags, and enough stuff to open my own Good Will. And, that comes from a self-professed NON shopper.
Lately I have lost a fair amount of weight. Not my choice, it happened. Non of my clothes fit. So, I've been trying to decide if I buy new, renovate the old, or wear baggy. Sounds silly. But, I'm actually grieving for some of my favorite pants and tops that really don't work any more. "Don't covet," I say again.
Thanks, Liz. I really appreciate your comments. This topic touches each of us in different ways. But, your writing shows clearly that you know how to handle the extraneous and the immaterial.
I think what's to precious to lose is what you all are sharing, except for the clothes. Sorry Liz.
Words next to friendships once given can't be taken back. Even the words we throw out in the hunt for the best story.
Cassy, this has been on my mind a lot too, since tomorrow will be 20 years since my mom passed away. I'm now older than she was when she died, which is an odd thing to contemplate sometimes!
I have a lot of her things that I held on to over the years, and most of them are still packed away in boxes, because it was often too painful to deal with them. The other day I came across a figurine that had gotten broken, but I didn't feel sad. I reminded myself it is more important how I felt about HER, not her things.
My mom was NOT a packrat, and would probably have a fit if she saw how much stuff I still hang onto. LOL
When I cut things from my manuscript it gives me comfort to keep it in a separate file, even if I no longer look at it. One of these days I will be able to let it go (I hope! LOL)
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