The Writing Career

I spent part of yesterday at a local high school on behalf of an immaculately well-planned Career Week program: What do you do? How do you do it? Why do you do it? How did you come to do it? Is it worth it? These were the questions we careerists were to address.

Easy enough? Depends, I discovered, on how you approach the topic, and me being me, I likely thought too much about it. Had too many thoughts to cram into not even an hour, too many exhortions: Listen well to the world beyond yourself. Read widely and variously. Find your voice. Do not compromise. Never lock yourself into the end of your story until you actually reach the end of your story, for if you give yourself nothing to discover throughout the writing process, there will be no adventure for you, the writer, and, usually, a little less gleam for your reader.

I said, Story is choreography.

I said, Be satisfied before you publish, for once you publish a story (or a life) is fixed.

I said, By analyzing the work of others you'll find the tools with which to assess your own.

I said, Even after all these years, I equate writing with privilege.

But I don't know, really, if I said enough, if I left a mark, if I rode my horse in, then rode away, leaving nothing in the air but dust.