Sometimes life pulls us away from those things we love so we might tend to other pressing matters. This is where I am now in my life. I love writing this blog, but instead of writing a new post, I am re-purposing this from another blog I was proud to be a part of it.
Birth of a Novel continues to offer informative and enjoyable posts for writers by talented author and blogger Sandra Carey Cody and you might want to visit.
To the end, this post is about writing.
After all, my blog “Stories for the Journey” is sub-titled “Reflections on writing, life and the spirit.” So perhaps it’s time to offer some words about the writing process. And even though it’s focused at writers, please be open. You might find something helpful, hopeful or enlightening here as well — as a reader, as a fellow traveler on the journey.
Here is an abbreviated version of “Write from the Heart” as it was published in December 2011, from the Birth of a Novel blog.
Let me tell you a brief story. Seven years ago I wrote an inspirational essay about my mother. For those many years it languished in a desk drawer. Why? Because it was deeply personal. By sending it out into the world I knew I would be revealing my heart. I would be vulnerable and I risked appearing maudlin, too serious — at worst, foolish.
Still, something within me whispered, “Share it. It might touch others.” At the last minute I sent it into a prestigious writing competition and it placed well among thousands of entries nationwide.
What’s my point in telling you this? I believe as writers we are challenged to “write from the heart.” Terrifying? You bet. But plumbing such depths is also what I believe to be our calling as writers. When we have the courage to be authentic — when we dare visit and share those deep, hidden places with their fears, sorrows and memories — then our writing in some mysterious way also touches a universal chord.
In her book Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott writes:
“So you must risk placing real emotion at the center of your work. Write straight into the emotional center of things. Write toward vulnerability. Don’t worry about appearing sentimental. Worry about being unavailable, worry about being absent or fraudulent. Risk being unliked. Tell the truth as you understand it. If you’re a writer, you have a moral obligation to do this.”
How do we write from the heart? I have no definitive answers. I do believe, however, we must make room to hear what our hearts are telling us. For some it may be meditation, prayer, gardening or a walk in the woods. Ultimately, it’s allowing ourselves a receptive space where we can get out of our heads and into the sacred place where our own truth resides. And then, we must have the courage to put ourselves on paper for others to see.
It’s a lofty challenge but according to Roger Rosenblatt the only one of worth. In his book Unless It Moves the Human Heart: The Art and Craft of Writing he states:
“Nothing you write will matter unless it moves the human heart … and the heart you must move is corrupt, depraved and desperate for your love … you must write as if your reader needed you desperately, because he does.”
His final words are even more compelling:
“For all its frailty and bitterness, the human heart is worthy of your love. Love it. Have faith in it. Both you and the human heart are full of sorrow. But only one of you can speak for that sorrow and ease its burdens and make it sing — word after word after word.”