Frankly, the joy of writing

I’ve resolved never to write a complete memoir, but . . .

So the new task for Writing Group this coming week is to write something about ‘walls, frontiers, margins.’ Could be poetry, fiction, or even creative non-fiction in the form of memoir. Pace John Irving, who wants us to believe that his creativity is so much more than reality, but I suspect that novels are a kind of emotional memoir, a mulling over of an author’s life, developed as a story. Else, to be frank, why write?

However that may be, I hadn’t thought, at this stage of life, that I might sit down with myself to work on a personal memoir. In the first place, memoirs are for famous people, aren’t they? Or people whose lives have been particularly interesting, or at least, people who have the capacity to write interestingly about their own experience. The Bookseller at the End of the World comes to mind in this context.

And yet, and yet. I knew almost immediately what I might write about, when the task was discussed yesterday afternoon, and after a little snooze to compensate for the hard day, I did sit down and write my single side about walls. In memoir mode. It felt like I hadn’t actually written for weeks! But I have kept up reasonably faithfully with this friendly blog. That’s my fun, I guess, not really my regular writing ‘job.’

Anyway, my task sorted by the time the evening proper arrived, I felt good, pleased. How easy it can be to find joy, if you know where and how to look for it! How challenging we might make it for ourselves to even try.

3 responses to “Frankly, the joy of writing”

  1. Larry, I hope you will share what you have written about walls. I wondered what your walls would be? Perhaps your thoughts will not be about unseen walls but the meaning of tangible walls. I know that stone walls produce beautiful landscapes in various parts of Britain. But then I thought that perhaps the purpose of your blog is to have your readers reflect on their lives? Walls? Real or internal ones in my life? It’s most difficult to think about my own life for many reasons. Hmmmm… I’ll have to get back to you on the topic of walls. You’ve planted a seed. I think though that it is the kind of seed encased in a hard outer shell which the gardener must nick so that it may absorb water & produce the plant.

    Havent seen a giant mouth in a long time. Used to see the kind with the fierce looking back. Surely related to the one in your pic. We’ve hung out the baskets of lantana which hummingbirds favored last year. Perhaps I’ll have a pic of a ruby throated to send to send along one of these days. Ruby throated are the only kind we get despite the odd ones seen once in a great while.
    Write on Larry!

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  2. Gift moth not mouth. Curse you auto-correct!

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  3. Thanks for your encouragement, Henry! My family loves to say, ‘Don’t encourage him, he’ll only do more!’ But I might be able to share more of the ‘walls’ piece after it gets dissected by our Writers Group. As for the mouthy moths, aye, aren’t phones the worst? And I don’t know how to eliminate the auto-correct either.

    You make a good query about ‘the point’ of this blog. If folks are stimulated to reflect on some unappreciated joys in their own lives, then surely that’s a brilliant result. But I’m not intending to preach, per se, but rather to have a little quiet moment of personal reflection, which actually is good for me. That’s always been the main point of the blog, I think, and it’s why I’m not over-anxious about promotions. Anyway, you’re correct, The Walls of Elpha Green are about the wonderful dry stone walls around our smallholding. We’ll see what my fellow writers make of my memoir fragment.

    Keep on thinking yourself, eh?! Take care, L

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