interviewer: ”what is your favourite word?”
margaret atwood: ”and. it’s so hopeful.”
Because it takes practice. Because I can’t help it. Because it teaches me that failure is necessary. Because it makes me feel brave. Because it’s worth waiting for the right metaphor. Because, “metaphor,” really means, “person.” Because I don’t ever want to forget how his kiss crept over my skin in the car that day. Because when we jumped in the river, the water snuck into our hair and made us shiver. Because time can only smell like buttermilk biscuits on paper, and my arms aren’t actually fifteen-years long, and it’s weird to tell people over coffee that the color green feels like home. Because, like most worthwhile things, it’s difficult.
Because some words are too thick for air.
Do you see that creamy, lemon-yellow moon?
There are some people, unlike me and you,who do not yearn after fame or love or quantities of money as
unattainable as that moon;
thus, they do not later
have to waste more time
defaming the object of their former ardor.Or consequently run and crucify themselves
in some solitary midnight Starbucks Golgotha.I have news for you—
there are people who get up in the morning and cross a roomand open a window to let the sweet breeze in
and let it touch them all over their faces and bodies.
(Source: clavicola)
We had everything to say to each other, but no ways to say it.
Six Tips on Writing from John Steinbeck
- Abandon the idea that you are ever going to finish. Lose track of the 400 pages and write just one page for each day, it helps. Then when it gets finished, you are always surprised.
- Write freely and as rapidly as possible and throw the whole thing on paper. Never correct or rewrite until the whole thing is down. Rewrite in process is usually found to be an excuse for not going on. It also interferes with flow and rhythm which can only come from a kind of unconscious association with the material.
- Forget your generalized audience. In the first place, the nameless, faceless audience will scare you to death and in the second place, unlike the theater, it doesn’t exist. In writing, your audience is one single reader. I have found that sometimes it helps to pick out one person—a real person you know, or an imagined person and write to that one.
- If a scene or a section gets the better of you and you still think you want it—bypass it and go on. When you have finished the whole you can come back to it and then you may find that the reason it gave trouble is because it didn’t belong there.
- Beware of a scene that becomes too dear to you, dearer than the rest. It will usually be found that it is out of drawing.
- If you are using dialogue—say it aloud as you write it. Only then will it have the sound of speech.
(Source: nevver)
interviewer: ”what is your favourite word?”
margaret atwood: ”and. it’s so hopeful.”
beautiful.
The universe is made up of stories, not atoms.
I want to write books that unlock the traffic jam in everybody’s head.