Break

It's been a busy couple of weeks. I spent a week visiting my parents, during which my husband came down with pneumonia that, to the dismay of the doctors, hasn't been responding to antibiotics. We were supposed to leave for Isreal this morning. Needless to say (since I am currently writing this blog post), we are not on an airplane to the Middle East.

Between doctor's visits and family affairs and cancelling our plane tickets, hotel rooms, and dreams (okay, that was melodramatic), writing has slipped into the background. And the funny thing about taking a break from writing is that - doctor's visits and family affairs and trip-cancellings aside - once you find things other than writing to take up your time, you can always find things other than writing to take up your time.

I've discovered it's easier to keep a well-oiled machine running than to fix a broken machine. Taking a break doesn't necessarily mean you're broken. Some things are worth the break. Like driving your husband to his CT scan. And some things just aren't. Like seeing Julie and Julia. I've done a little of both the past two weeks. Knowing the difference is the inevitable dilemma of being self-employed, and I suppose it's one I'm still learning.

Anyway, I'm done with this blog post now, and I'm going to open up my forgotten Word documents than contain my 'real' writing. And I'm not 'breaking' until dinner.

Influence

I have decided to apply to a writing conference for the fall. I am anxious to learn what I can from industry professionals. And since I have no contacts within the publishing industry at all, I think it would be great to make some connections.

I attended a writing conference in Duluth, MN several months after I graduated college, and I have always looked back on it with fond memories (to be completely cliche). I had just finished reading The Unbearable Lightness of Being, and I wanted nothing more than to be Milan Kundera. The things I wrote at that conference were always with "what would Kundera do" in mind, and when I told the author leading the workshop that I feared I was plagerizing him by wanting so badly to write something that influenced people as much as his book had influenced me, she looked at me like the naive twenty-one year-old I was and told me I was more certainly not plagerizing him. My writing was my own, and it was okay to be influenced by other authors.

With that in mind, I decided to read as many brilliant authors as I could in hopes that I could one day be as brilliant as them. I don't know that I've achieved that lofty goal, but I was recently told by the teacher of the online writing course I took this spring that my writing was that of a person who has spent her lifetime reading. I am choosing to take that as a compliment, and I am still reading as much as I can, hoping to glean some style from those who have come before me and done it better than me.

With that in mind, I would love to know what books have influenced those of you who read this blog. Any thoughts?

Don't Bury Your Talent

My husband asked me the other night if I was discouraged by the agent search yet. Fortunately my answer was no. I went into this only expecting letter after letter of rejection, so no matter what any agent tells me (good or bad), I know that perserverance is going to be my biggest asset.

And I suppose too that the part of me that reads a lot of books knows that I have something to offer people. I hope that comes across how I intend it. There are a lot of areas in life in which I have nothing to offer: speed skating, basket weaving, gardening, financial planning. Writing is my gift, and not only that, I am passionate about it.

My husband tells me I am a good cook. In fact he tells everyone I am a good cook. However, no matter how many times he tells me that, I will find any way I can to get out of cooking a meal. I have absolutely no passion for cooking, and even if I could whip up a meal like Julia Child, I still think I would prefer to eat out.

I really love writing. I couldn't think of anything else to do with my life. I worked at a gym for little pay for years just because it was as good as any other job to me. I didn't want a job; I wanted to write.

And I need the desire as much as I need the skill. If Anne Tyler felt apathetic toward writing, it wouldn't matter how skilled she was. She would find something else to do with her life.

When I got married, the sermon focused on the Biblical parable of the talents, a message my husband hasn't forgotten. He is always talking about how it doesn't matter how many talents God gives us if we decide to bury them in ground.

So, I'm trying not to bury mine in the ground, and I hope you don't either.