I’m not sure why I am so late to catch up … I’d saved the piece, perhaps after a quick scan, knowing that I’d return to it at the correct moment … there’s no telling if now is that moment, but I have been trying to keep up with daily quotes in my commonplace book for the online gathering Jillian Hess has assembled - her essays about the notebooks of creatives of every hue are some of my favourites here. As ever, I’m inspired by your words … my practice, sadly - disappointingly to me, as I aspire to be better - is random and very disjointed. I have notes, for sure, but not enough of them are my ideas … and I return to almost none of them (hence my frustration with myself) to give them some ‘taps of the writer’s hammer’. I know, I think, this is because I don’t apply myself to writing. I dip in and out. I’ve always been the one who didn’t want folk to know I take something seriously … daft, really, as if that’s a bad thing. I know I want to do things differently, put some rigour to what I do. Perhaps this is me saying it out loud to hold myself accountable. I’ll be sharing this excellent piece with Jillian … I’m sure she’ll relish it, and there are a couple of breadcrumb trails for the research she is doing for the book about notes she has recently been commissioned to write.
"Pretension and dissonance linger large in the quickly scribbled note." Yes! I relish finding both.
I gained a new insight here, Matt. I often write four pages of notes and allow the 100 true words to rise to the top like cream in a bottle of milk. I throw the rest away. What I hadn't thought of was that some times I polish and create a clean, clear resolution. Other times I scuff up, create some ragged texture and leave it to the reader to resolve, which is, of course, more satisfying, more like real life. Thanks for making me think this morning.
Thank you for reading and commenting, Sharon. I think I've got better over the years at looking for that rougher texture too. I've not yet instructed my wife to throw away all of the notebooks!
What wonderful, insightful words Matt. 'two or three soft taps of the writer’s hammer' indeed. And by complete coincidence I am reading Rebecca S's Wanderlust and loving it
Thank you, Mark. Wanderlust one of the few of hers that I've yet to read, but further inclined to do so for your endorsement. She's fantastic. Though your tastes are far more wide-reaching than food, her essay in The Faraway Nearby about her mother's apricots is just wonderful.
I’m not sure why I am so late to catch up … I’d saved the piece, perhaps after a quick scan, knowing that I’d return to it at the correct moment … there’s no telling if now is that moment, but I have been trying to keep up with daily quotes in my commonplace book for the online gathering Jillian Hess has assembled - her essays about the notebooks of creatives of every hue are some of my favourites here. As ever, I’m inspired by your words … my practice, sadly - disappointingly to me, as I aspire to be better - is random and very disjointed. I have notes, for sure, but not enough of them are my ideas … and I return to almost none of them (hence my frustration with myself) to give them some ‘taps of the writer’s hammer’. I know, I think, this is because I don’t apply myself to writing. I dip in and out. I’ve always been the one who didn’t want folk to know I take something seriously … daft, really, as if that’s a bad thing. I know I want to do things differently, put some rigour to what I do. Perhaps this is me saying it out loud to hold myself accountable. I’ll be sharing this excellent piece with Jillian … I’m sure she’ll relish it, and there are a couple of breadcrumb trails for the research she is doing for the book about notes she has recently been commissioned to write.
"Pretension and dissonance linger large in the quickly scribbled note." Yes! I relish finding both.
I gained a new insight here, Matt. I often write four pages of notes and allow the 100 true words to rise to the top like cream in a bottle of milk. I throw the rest away. What I hadn't thought of was that some times I polish and create a clean, clear resolution. Other times I scuff up, create some ragged texture and leave it to the reader to resolve, which is, of course, more satisfying, more like real life. Thanks for making me think this morning.
Thank you for reading and commenting, Sharon. I think I've got better over the years at looking for that rougher texture too. I've not yet instructed my wife to throw away all of the notebooks!
Yes! You may be famous someday and those old dusty scribbled-in notebooks will be worth a fortune.
What wonderful, insightful words Matt. 'two or three soft taps of the writer’s hammer' indeed. And by complete coincidence I am reading Rebecca S's Wanderlust and loving it
Thank you, Mark. Wanderlust one of the few of hers that I've yet to read, but further inclined to do so for your endorsement. She's fantastic. Though your tastes are far more wide-reaching than food, her essay in The Faraway Nearby about her mother's apricots is just wonderful.
I will go in search of that - thank you. I love her sensibility, so suspect she could have me lost to words about a faulty iron
There’s also a wealth of podcast interviews out there that feature her. She has the most soothing voice.