Danger
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Tonight my elephant ears lie collapsed and buried beneath first snow. The world is more quiet, and the urgency I feel comes from some place deep within.
I am thirty pages into a new novel that is being told with a chorus of voices. Everything hinges on intersections and conjunctions, rail lines and hubs.
If you give yourself the challenge, with each new book, of doing what feels like the impossible, then you walk around with this buzz in your head, this place of danger that draws you near. I've published in numerous genres now, and with this novel I again sink into the unknown. I realize just how vulnerable this makes me. Still, it seems my only choice.
3 comments:
Hello Beth,
I was referred to your excellent blog by Nettie, and I'm very moved by how you write about the writing life and also the dangers of being open and vulnerable enough to feel the living, breathing world. That urgency and daring surely make for strength and tenderness. Thank you for sharing all this.
-- Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg (carynmirriamgoldberg.blogspot.com)
Beautifully put. I am trying to embark on a new project too, and it does feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, wondering if I'll jump.
Dear Caryn and Melissa,
Your thoughtful comments make me think about how fearless we really have to be out here. Write the chapter that doesn't seem to be working all the way through before we decide against an impulse. Dare to turn things that seem to be working well already around.
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