I was lost in thought earlier and a sudden realization jarred me out of it: I haven’t heard thunder in months. I can’t remember the last time I heard thunder. Normally, back home, we’d be getting into prime thunderstorm season right about now. Here in Portland, there is no thunder. The rain is not insistent, or forceful. It comes and it goes, and if you don’t listen for its gentle drumming or get caught outside in it, you would never know it’s there at all.
I miss thunder.
I’ve been keeping myself busy lately. Work meetings and assignments, schoolwork, writing, reading. Endless reading. I have a stack of books from the library that I am slowly wading through. Several volumes of poetry: Charles Baudelaire, Federico García Lorca, e.e. cummings, Pablo Neruda. I force myself to read the French and Spanish poetry in its native tongue, and then I read the translations. I find I prefer the originals. My French vocabulary is much more limited than my Spanish, so the line there is a bit blurred. With Lorca and Neruda, though, I read the Spanish and I understand the tremendous value of understanding the words as they were intended to be written. It’s disappointing to read translations that are heavily inflected with the translator’s intentions, or their interpretation of the author’s intentions. It seems all wrong to me.
I’ve heard (or read) many authors say the key to writing is reading. William Faulkner said:
“Read, read, read. Read everything– trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You’ll absorb it. Then write. If it is good, you’ll find out. If it’s not, throw it out the window.”
I’m fairly certain it’s true. And I find that the more I read, the more I want to write. I used to reject this as a viable approach to writing because I thought that it would invariably amount to plagiarism, whether intentional or not. It’s not that way, though, at least not for me. Reading what someone writes starts a train of thought, and that train takes off on its own to some distant locale. My biggest problem is that I don’t map the routes closely enough. It’s a bit unsettling to arrive in a foreign city without knowing quite where you are or how you got there, you see.
Aside from writing fiction, I recently found out that I’ll be interviewing one of my favourite singer/songwriters for a lit/culture magazine I work on at school. The odd part is that I took the initiative and made it happen for myself. I contacted the press manager for the guy I wanted to interview, and sold her on the idea, and then contacted my editor and sold her on the idea. Now sometime in the next two weeks it’s all going to come together and I have to remember to breathe. (To my family: if you’re curious, I will give you the actual details privately, otherwise I’ll probably write about it more once it actually has happened.)
Sometimes I’m baffled by just how much growing up I’m doing and have yet to do. It seems very wrong that I should be 25 years old and just realizing for the first time that I really can do anything I set my mind to. And, very timidly, I am setting my mind to things. Fear of failure still grips my heart at times but, with practice, it’s getting easier to ignore. Slowly but surely, I am mastering the art.
And last but not least: hoppy Easter!
(listening to: Trespassers William, “Love You More”)
I, for one, am curious! How about an email with the juicy information on who it is you are interviewing. And on that subject, HOORAY for YOU! Making it happen for yourself is one of the most rewarding things you can do – no matter the what, where, when or who!
And I still say you should put these ramblings together into a book form – if for no one else then for your family. It is such a pleasure to hear you describe the life around you in such poetic symmetry; makes it all so clear and easy to relate to.
Keep it up! Love you!
(This one is from the Mom actually – but she kept getting kicked off when trying to leave it.)
As long as you aren’t writing about killing your mother – we should be good. You are what you are – you think what you think – you understand what you understand. You are young – things change and your understandings of them as you live. What you believe now may not be what is “truth” – it is what you understand and what you know now.
And I am a parent. I am used to kids thinking things about me. I am also used to them not knowing whole stories because I did protect them whether they know it or not. And there are many things about me I have not let my children know so they would not be affected by it. I know and understand far more about my children than they think.
There are many things in life I would have preferred to be a way that they are not, but then I am not God and HIS will be done. This I understand and I accept – not always readily or like I should – but I come around to HIS will. Write – I do not judge you – I love you.
@Dad: So now you guys know all the details! I’m doing the interview on Saturday. Very nervous and excited. 🙂
@Mom: I’m not writing about killing my mother. In fact, I think I paint the parents in the story in a pretty good light… Anyway, I’m glad you have that attitude, I hope you keep it when you read things I’ve written. 😉