Organically Speaking: Writing that Makes a Difference

  I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how people choose their closest friends, and what makes certain people more “special” to me. I think part of human nature seeks out others who are like us. Why else would people join writing, cycling, and photography clubs? Fellowship with others who share similar interests is natural.

But then there are the singular friends who make their mark forever on our lives. If I try to plumb the ocean depths of my own heart (for I think we all have an amazing capacity for love of all sorts within us), I realize there are a few people who will always be in my life, whether we’re close together or far apart, whether we’ve talked to each other yesterday or ten years ago.

It’s people who remind me of myself. This, I believe, is also the foundation of really great mentorships. But these friendships can also be very problematic precisely because of the similarities in our personalities.

We all fall into the trap of wanting to save our friends from themselves, and this is especially “challenging,” to put it nicely, when we see our friends stuck in a cycle of behavior or headed down a bad path. We want them to be different people, perhaps as way of changing ourselves and erasing our own flaws. There is a place for tough love, but then there’s also a place of stillness, of acceptance and coming alongside them as the perfect person to provide validation of their feelings, emotional support, and sometimes (but not always) advice.

If you have a kindred spirit who’s driving you crazy, stop and think about why you’re so upset. Is it because you think you know them better than they know themselves? Do they remind you of something stupid you did in the past, or the way you used to be? Care for them. Let them break your heart in silence, without the peanut gallery. Be the kind of friend you want them to be to you.

New Amgen Tour of California and Napa Valley photo album up on MySpace. Hop on over and check it out!

Writing organically is a lot like living a life of faith. It requires incredible strength of will and an unshakable belief that somehow, everything will come together and the way home will become clear. As I sit here, re-writing a novel that has been with me for a few years now, the path appears familiar, but with every word, every gesture and thought my characters show me, I realize it’s a new path, a new journey that I’m taking. I know the final destination—but I have no idea how I’m going to get there. It’s a scary feeling, not being in control of my timelines and character charts. You see, I wrote the first draft of this novel back when I thought I was an outliner. And it didn’t turn out very well because my characters were pretty wooden and the storytelling was very “telling” instead of “showing.” 

I feel a sense of panic when I look out onto the horizon of my narrative thread and all I see is fog. Darkness. Then, a ray of light, the inkling of an idea, another breadcrumb along the trail. So I pick it up, follow it, and then I stop, listen, and wait for the next breath of the Muse to draw me onward, slowly but steadily toward the end.

How do I keep being inspired? By surrounding myself with interesting, creative people. If I can’t do this in person, I like to listen to music. Something about the abstract nature of music reconnects me to my soul, opens up the channels of creativity and releases me from the bonds of day-to-day living that truss me up like a chicken on roasting day.

Atmosphere of place is incredibly inspiring as well–getting away from all the familiar surroundings that remind me of all my fiscal and domestic responsibilities. I guess this would be the greatest argument for traveling. However, my pocketbook is already hemorrhaging, so I must find inspiration in the security of home as well.

Sometimes, when the house is still early in the morning, and the sun peeks through the window, I am transported to that place where dreams live, and the Muse comes out to dance with me. As an organic writer, I don’t know when inspiration will arrive, but every day I must have the faith to carry on, even though I can’t see the road ahead.

Hi all,

Sorry I haven’t posted in a while. Greetings from Petaluma, CA, where I’ve spent the past couple of days soaking in the atmosphere and general excitement of the Tour of California pro cycling race.

Um, George, I think you’re going the wrong way…

The weather’s been quite dreary and cold, but I did find a great mocha at Aroma Roasters in downtown Santa Rosa, stood around at the finish line for a couple of hours to watch a blur of bicycles whizzing by at close to forty miles an hour, and generally concluded that the value in attending an awesome sporting event like this is simply being in the presence of greatness.

I took some time to finish reading my book, meditated on the beauty of the Northern California landscape, and tasted some really great wines this trip. Definitely food for the soul.

I feel a creative seed germinating. Hopefully, I’ll have some time at the airport and on the plane to gather some of my thoughts and impressions. Eventually, they will make their way into my creative writing, but perhaps not for several months or years. This place runs deep for me, and I know I will continue to be drawn back to its mystery and energy.

Sometimes I get all caught up in my various lives as a writer, designer, and business person. I stress out about how I don’t have control over the projects I’m responsible for. I get frustrated because I don’t feel like I’m making a difference in the big scheme of things.