Thank you for this gorgeous, inspiring piece. The minute I started reading, I thought of the Michelangelo story—and there it was. Beautiful description of how we write and how our individual creative works emerge. Makes me want to keep writing…!
This is lovely. I'm a swimmer as well as a writer and writing teacher. And I've encouraged writers over the years in nearly this exact same way ---- to write with a quiet trust and faith that the book (or piece) already exists somewhere. All they really have to do is find their way toward it, to meet it there.
As a lifelong "almost daily" swimmer, I loved the wisdom you shared about swimming towards what already exists. The effort, of course, must be expended, but how comforting and motivating to know that the body of work already exists, just ahead! Thank you.
It’s always kind of thrilling to read something that feels exactly right, especially when it’s beautiful expressed. Thank you for the thrill of hearing truth! 💞
Your words always inspire me, Alice. Your books and this space. I love the swimming underwater metaphor so much. Feels so spot on for me and my amorphous WIP right now! Thank you.
Thank you for this wonderful essay, and the beautiful way you express these ideas. You perfectly capture the tension between studying and learning from the greats while at the same time finding out own way. And ... wonderful recommendations - love the notecards etc. and really fascinated by the interview.
Every time I read your pieces, I envy your students. What must it be like to have you as the "listening teacher" helping me swim? Having had many a red marked paper and many a rejection, I can only imagine the gift of your guidance. XO
I love this: When we reach the end of a book and have the great satisfaction of a sense of inevitability, the writer has managed to uncover a story that existed as an organic entity when she began her work.
And this: Corrections are telling us we should be writing other people’s writing.
This is so spot-on. I often have this feeling of something on the edge of my mind that I want to put down on paper but I know I can't find it until I start writing. The ideas blossom in the action of writing, using my body and not just my brain. Thank you for explaining it so beautifully. Somehow having this frame around that experience allows me to relax into it more. You continue to inspire me as a writer.
I can imagine you swimming in the pool and can understand a bit more of the process that writers must undergo to create a story. Not unlike Michelangelo and his carving (editing) with marble…
I look forward to reading your new book…Friendship Point is still resonating with me.
“the writer has managed to uncover a story that existed as an organic entity when she began her work.” Love this idea. I posited something similar-but perhaps too far-last week in the post Art without Artists.
Thank you for this gorgeous, inspiring piece. The minute I started reading, I thought of the Michelangelo story—and there it was. Beautiful description of how we write and how our individual creative works emerge. Makes me want to keep writing…!
This is lovely. I'm a swimmer as well as a writer and writing teacher. And I've encouraged writers over the years in nearly this exact same way ---- to write with a quiet trust and faith that the book (or piece) already exists somewhere. All they really have to do is find their way toward it, to meet it there.
As a lifelong "almost daily" swimmer, I loved the wisdom you shared about swimming towards what already exists. The effort, of course, must be expended, but how comforting and motivating to know that the body of work already exists, just ahead! Thank you.
Bon Voyage, my sweet and thank you for letting me come aboard, figuratively speaking.
It’s always kind of thrilling to read something that feels exactly right, especially when it’s beautiful expressed. Thank you for the thrill of hearing truth! 💞
Your words always inspire me, Alice. Your books and this space. I love the swimming underwater metaphor so much. Feels so spot on for me and my amorphous WIP right now! Thank you.
Thank you for this wonderful essay, and the beautiful way you express these ideas. You perfectly capture the tension between studying and learning from the greats while at the same time finding out own way. And ... wonderful recommendations - love the notecards etc. and really fascinated by the interview.
Every time I read your pieces, I envy your students. What must it be like to have you as the "listening teacher" helping me swim? Having had many a red marked paper and many a rejection, I can only imagine the gift of your guidance. XO
This was very helpful, Alice - thank you.
Alice, you have become a writing oracle!
I love this: When we reach the end of a book and have the great satisfaction of a sense of inevitability, the writer has managed to uncover a story that existed as an organic entity when she began her work.
And this: Corrections are telling us we should be writing other people’s writing.
This is so spot-on. I often have this feeling of something on the edge of my mind that I want to put down on paper but I know I can't find it until I start writing. The ideas blossom in the action of writing, using my body and not just my brain. Thank you for explaining it so beautifully. Somehow having this frame around that experience allows me to relax into it more. You continue to inspire me as a writer.
❤️❤️❤️
I swim almost everyday in water and everyday at my desk so this post meant so much to me. Thank you for all your brilliant insights. Keep them coming!
This is a great way of thinking about the process. Thanks for the gift!
I can imagine you swimming in the pool and can understand a bit more of the process that writers must undergo to create a story. Not unlike Michelangelo and his carving (editing) with marble…
I look forward to reading your new book…Friendship Point is still resonating with me.
Leslie Lord
“the writer has managed to uncover a story that existed as an organic entity when she began her work.” Love this idea. I posited something similar-but perhaps too far-last week in the post Art without Artists.