The Tunnel
I would NEVER want to go through high school again. Or my twenties. Or any year, probably, though I loved being pregnant each time and might want to relive that. But, in general, if life is a journey, the lessons learned on mine have been hard-won. I learned resilience through pain. Learned patience through suffering. Learned grace through weary battles that went on and on. Laughter and good times have been generously sprinkled through my life, but the reality is, like most of us, there are good times . . . and really, really bad times. And so TODAY is the best day of my life because it's what I have RIGHT NOW. I don't find myself wishing I could live my life over. No regrets. No mourning. I'm good with where I am.
However, as a writer, I suppose there are some things I wish I knew. It just would have made the process easier. I wish I knew and really understood that there are one or two publicity persons for an entire publishing house. Or that for EVERY book you need to ask how many ARCs are going out. I wish I knew that I actually CAN speak in public, and pursued that a bit more early on just to get my name out there. Three practical business things I wish I knew.
Craft, on the other hand, probably isn't something about which I wish I knew anything earlier on. I have come to the conclusion there are no shortcuts. I thought I might use a wine analogy . . . you know, how your craft has to ferment? But I decided that's really not what it is at all. That seems to imply this passive process, this aging through time. But it's not that. It's really a day-to-day struggle. Pushing and seeking. I decided it reminds me much more of The Shawshank Redemption--in the movie, where Andy digs at that wall each night, and then drops the rocks in the prison yard as he walks. For nineteen years, Andy dug at that wall a little at a time, tunneling through, I'm sure wondering at times if it was futile. But eventually, he broke through.
I've been hacking away at my wall a LONG time . . . I don't know that I'll ever truly break through. Craft is a lifelong process. But I move along my tunnel, sweating, struggling like every other prisoner of the craft.
Thoughts?
However, as a writer, I suppose there are some things I wish I knew. It just would have made the process easier. I wish I knew and really understood that there are one or two publicity persons for an entire publishing house. Or that for EVERY book you need to ask how many ARCs are going out. I wish I knew that I actually CAN speak in public, and pursued that a bit more early on just to get my name out there. Three practical business things I wish I knew.
Craft, on the other hand, probably isn't something about which I wish I knew anything earlier on. I have come to the conclusion there are no shortcuts. I thought I might use a wine analogy . . . you know, how your craft has to ferment? But I decided that's really not what it is at all. That seems to imply this passive process, this aging through time. But it's not that. It's really a day-to-day struggle. Pushing and seeking. I decided it reminds me much more of The Shawshank Redemption--in the movie, where Andy digs at that wall each night, and then drops the rocks in the prison yard as he walks. For nineteen years, Andy dug at that wall a little at a time, tunneling through, I'm sure wondering at times if it was futile. But eventually, he broke through.
I've been hacking away at my wall a LONG time . . . I don't know that I'll ever truly break through. Craft is a lifelong process. But I move along my tunnel, sweating, struggling like every other prisoner of the craft.
Thoughts?
Labels: craft
posted by Erica Orloff at 7:52 AM
16 comments
