5 Pieces of Advice That Changed the Way I Write

“When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.”

Long ago, when I first read the statement above, I imagined an encounter with a big-bellied, toga-wearing monk who would whisper the secrets of the universe into my ear.

Over the years I've learned you don’t necessarily need a monk to show you the way. If you’re open to it, wisdom comes in many guises, such as advice from a friend, a passage in a book, an overheard conversation or even a sudden insight.

What follows are the valuable writing gifts I have received over the years. Depending on where you are in this journey, they may or may not resonate with you, but each one was precious to me and changed my way of thinking about my craft.

Morning Pages

Since I was a little girl I always dreamed of being a writer but it wasn't until I started doing daily morning pages that I gained the courage to face the blank page.  And what are morning pages?

Simply, first thing when you wake up in the morning, you write longhand in a notebook for twenty minutes without stopping. It’s best if you practice morning pages for two or three months and you shouldn't read what you've written until much later.  The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron popularized morning pages but they've been around for decades.

Morning pages train your subconscious to write. It coaxes out the muse, and, trust me, the practice is utterly magical. Morning pages work best with new writers or writers who have abandoned the craft for a while.

Save the Cat!

Storytelling is a skill separate from writing beautiful sentences and Blake Snyder, author of “Save the Cat Strikes Back!” explains plotting in the most eloquent and accessible way possible.

After reading his book, I knew I would never again plot myself into a corner or abandon a project because of structural problems.  Although his work is written in a breezy style, there’s something very elemental and old-world about Snyder’s approach.

He died a couple of years ago, and even though he was a successful screenwriter, I think his insightful how-to books were his true legacy. I recommend all of his books but if you were only to buy one, I’d get “Save the Cat Strikes Back.” In addition to giving structural advice, he shares the very personal story of how he changed his writing life around. An inspiring man who will be missed.

Pomodoro Technique

Former Girlfriend April Henry turned me on to this incredible yet simple technique. Basically you write for twenty-five minutes, no interruptions, and then take a five minute break.

Repeat as many times as necessary. This method has increased my focus ten-fold. I no longer worry about being distracted by the Internet or e-mail, because during each twenty-five minute period, you trick the brain to attend only to the writing. Here’s more about the Pomodoro technique if I’ve piqued your interest.

Rachel Aaron’s Amazing Productivity Method

Recently I decided I wanted to write first drafts faster, and I ran across author Rachel Aaron's advice on that very topic. Using her method, I easily upped my daily word count from 2,000 words a day to 3,000. (Accomplished in a four-hour time period with brief breaks) The secret?

Aaron suggests writing a brief summary of what you’re going to write each day before plunging in.  Her advice should be worth a $1,000 it helped me so much. But I only spent $.99 on her book. Thank you, Rachel Aaron! XOXO

A recent insight about the writing game

Once during one of the best performances of his life, Laurence Olivier came off the stage and was approached by a reporter who was bowled over by his mastery. Olivier acknowledged he’d done well, but he also said, “I don’t know if I can ever repeat it, because it did not come from me.”

The more I write, the more I understand that the best writing is achieved when I leave my ego outside the writing room, and surrender to my unconscious mind.

If I show up every day, the muse will arrive, and if I’m humble and understand that I’m only a conduit or co-creator at best, then good writing will almost always result. When I’m co-creating, the supply of ideas are endless, and I never get stale. Maybe this gift was the most important one of all.

So those are the best gifts I've received in over twenty years of writing, and I hope at least one will speak to you. And since it’s the gift-giving season, I would love to hear the valuable insights you have received during your writing life. I’m always looking to add a few more to my treasure chest.

Be Original

Tell the truth, dear writer.

Had to share this quote because there’s so much brilliance in it. Nowadays when I write, I keep telling myself, “Tell the truth. Tell the truth” even though fiction is, of course, a pack of lies, but still, a kernel of truth must be there. What a paradox!

You will never make a good impression on other people until you stop thinking about what sort of impression you are making. Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it... Give up yourself, and you will find your real self.” 
― C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

2 Very Inspiring Posts on the Magic of Being a Writer

A couple of posts on writing that spoke to me this week, and I hope they’ll speak to you as well:

From author Leslie Stella comes a lovely rambling post about all the ups and downs in a writer’s life.

Here’s an excerpt:

“You cannot go to sleep at a reasonable hour for the same reason you cannot have a glass of wine and the idiot box: because you were a writer, you were born to be a writer, and you still want to be a writer—no, not yearn, just want, want—it’s a simple word and you have read enough crappy writing by now, including your own, to know that there is something to be said for the simple and direct and plain way of speaking; you are a writer and who is going to tell you that you are not? You are a writer; you are a writer.”

Also this from an interview with Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray Love:

“It’s okay to recognize that you took a wrong turn, and to begin anew. It’s okay to write a book that gets bad reviews. It’s okay to write a book that no one reads. The idea is just to focus on how you want to spend your life. My intention is to spend my entire life doing this, so any one piece of it isn’t that important when you think of it in the long scale.”

It’s all a journey isn’t it? And a lovely one at that. Enjoy and try not to get too frustrated with the bumps. It’s merely part of the wonder. 

How to Outline Without Losing Your Wild Writer's Mind

 Have you ever read the work of a young, uncorrupted writer? It’s like venturing into a jungle: Fresh. Green. Wild. Monkeys beating their furry chests. Parrots shrieking. Anacondas curling around trees. A chaos of creativity.

Such a writer is ruled almost entirely by her subconscious. The subconscious—let’s call her Crazy Daisy -- doesn’t know the difference between a gerund and a dangling participle; she only cares about expressing herself. Writing is play not work.

Unfortunately Crazy Daisy, charming as she is, has a problem: Her work meanders like a toddler strewing petals at a wedding: she needs to be reigned in.

Enter Ms. Grind.

 Rules can choke creativity 

She’ll tell Crazy Daisy that a sentence can’t run on for three pages or that exclamation points shouldn’t be showered over a page like pepper. She’s so bossy and judgmental she frightens away Crazy Daisy. Ms. Grind doesn’t care; she doesn’t needs that wild little girl hanging around anyway. Yet when she tries to have fun with her prose, it’s scary like having Dick Cheney ask you to pull his finger. Most of her writing comes out freeze-dried and soulless.  

Fact is, all writers are slightly schizophrenic, their mind divided between Crazy Daisy and Ms. Grind. We usually start out dominated by Crazy Daisy but once we immerse ourselves into  the sea of endless writing rules, Ms. Grind tends to take over.  

Can Crazy Daisy and Ms. Grim live harmoniously in a writer’s head? In other words, is it possible to create prose that’s technically proficient but also has passion, wonder, and playfulness? Yes, but only if you allow Crazy Daisy and Ms Grim to play to their strengths.

Before you run with a new idea bring in your rational mind

You’re talking a walk or daydreaming and suddenly… BAM! You get a great idea. Crazy Daisy, impetuous minx, wants to start writing immediately. It’s like she has a case of diarrhea. You’ll be tempted to run with her. Don’t do it. Stop and take a moment to diaper the little imp.

Believe it or not, it’s time to bring Ms. Grind into the equation—not to shoot down the idea--but to structure it. Ms. Grinds loves outlines and plans and she’s good at them. After a little structure work, she might find that the idea isn’t workable after all. Sadly not all of Crazy Daisy’s ideas are golden. She likes to take risks and some don’t pay off.   

In fact, it’s wise to begin with every writing session with Ms. Grind and structure your thoughts when you sit down to write, whether to compose a short scene or a brief essay. You’ll satisfy Ms. Grind and give Crazy Daisy some perimeters. T.S. Elliot summarized this process:

When forced to work within a strict framework the imagination is taxed to its upmost and will produce its richest ideas. Given total freedom, the work is likely to sprawl.

Never stop to judge your first drafts 

Once structure’s in place, time to let Crazy Daisy loose. Allow her to scribble on walls, turn somersaults or eat paste. Sometimes she might break down structural walls and that’s okay too. Ms. Grind, however, isn’t allowed in.  Why? Because she’ll keep up a steady stream of inner dialogue that sounds something like this:

That sentence was abysmal. It must be fixed immediately. Can’t you do anything right? Who do you think you are, passing yourself as a writer?

Occasionally Crazy Daisy interjects, bringing flashes of brilliance, but mostly it’s Ms. Grind who stands over the writer, wielding her ruler.  

Not surprisingly Ms. Grind doesn’t give up her authority easily. How can you keep her out of your head when you're drafting?

Breaking through to writing that's true

Most people aren’t aware of the stream of criticism flowing in their mind while they’re writing. Thinking is so fast and transitory; it can be hard to catch Ms. Grind’s endless digs. That why it’s helpful to develop a habit of sitting quietly and meditating for fifteen minutes each day. Ms Grind will no do doubt object saying, “What a ridiculous idea.  Do you realize we’re wasting valuable writing time sitting around doing nothing?”

She’s no dummy. Ms. Grind knows that meditation is the best way to access all of Crazy Daisy’s wild brilliance.  Meditation helps you to recognize Ms. Grind’s judgmental thoughts, and to ignore them when you’re drafting a piece.

When Crazy Daisy takes over the draft, watch out, because diamonds and gold nuggets will start shooting out of your computer. BEWARE. Don’t pat yourself on the back because that, too, is a judgment and any time you make a judgment, you’re issuing an invitation to Ms. Grind. The time for judgment, positive or negative, is in the re-write. Not now.

Writing will suddenly be fun again and as effortless as letting out a whoop of joy. You’ll find yourself falling in love all over again.

Don't be afraid of the mess your muse has made

When you go back to revise, you might be horrified at the results. Yes, the writing was intoxicating but the hangover’s a killer.  Ms. Grind will say, “I told you so.”  Don’t listen to her. Simply ask her to help you clean it up. She’ll balk at first, saying, “If you left things to me there wouldn’t so much clutter.”

True but neither would there be so much fresh, wild writing. Give it a try and see. It can be a little disorienting. You might not even recognize your own prose. By the way, there’s an easy way to tell which personality dominates your writing. If you love the drafting phase and hate structure and rewriting, Crazy Daisy probably dominates your writing. If you like outlines, loathe the drafting phase and love to polish your prose, you need a T-shirt that says “Team Ms. Grind.”    

  

*If you resisted reading this article, thank Ms.Grind. She’s not interested in articles about making writing fun. It threatens her authority. She much prefers list articles like “Ten Ways To Punch Up Your Dialogue.” They’re useful; this article is a waste of time. Crazy Daisy, indeed.  

It's Selfish to Not Share Your Gifts With The World

One of my favorite blogs is Justine Musk's Tribal Writer and today she writes a post about why the pursuit of your dreams is a sacred obligation, that it's actually selfish not share them! Isn't that a refreshing point of view?

On that same note, a dear writer friend of mine died this week. Her name was Julie Cannon and she embodied a person who follows her dream and saw them as an obligation. I wrote a eulogy about Julie Cannon, and as one of my writing mentors has said to me, that's the hardest kind of writing there is. It was difficult, and I had several false starts, but writing about Julie's death and her life was so cathartic and gave me almost instant clarity about how I could begin to accept the unacceptable.

You might not have known Julie or her work, but if you've ever felt guilty for chasing your dream, I hope the story of Julie's writing  life will inspire you.

Profound Writing Tips From a Zen Monk

 

Don’t you love it when you start reading an article, and you actually get shaky with excitement because it feels as if the author is speaking directly to you, and all you want to do is share the piece with others?

Here is a post that moved me recently:

This insightful and funny piece comes from Josh Swiller author of The Unheard, A Memoir of Deafness and Africa, whose goal is to “cultivate a peaceful and playful mind” and who is also a hospice worker and a Zen monk.

Swiller offers 12 Tips of Writing” and each one is a gem. My favorites?

“In writing you are undertaking a spiritual act. Trusting that mental slurry will clarify into something understandable and even readable takes profound faith. And it does on occasion. And that it does still amazes me, and I do believe things that require faith and provoke amazement are miracles and should be honored as such. Hence: sacrosanct. Don't be tweeting.”

Lest you feel intimidated by the whole “undertaking a spiritual act” business (and you thought you were just typing!), Swiller grounds you with this:

“Throughout the process, please recognize and celebrate the fact that writing is completely ridiculous…Does it matter whether your obvious artistic brilliance is recognized and understood and known? It does not, brother.”

So how can you undertake a spiritual act and understand what you’re doing is ridiculous at the same? It’s the razor’s edge, baby. You have to approach writing like its sacred ritual, bringing to it your respectful and full attention, and yet, keep it playful and don’t take it too seriously. That’s the best mindset for any writer! And yes, it is possible. Thanks to Josh Swiller for writing an article brimming with so much wisdom and depth.

Five Sacred Writing Secrets

 

I’m blogging over at the Girlfriends Book Club on Five Sacred Writing Secrets. Won’t you join me?

http://girlfriendbooks.blogspot.com/2012/10/5-sacred-secrets-of-writing-revealed.html

5 Secrets to Realizing Your Wildest Writing Dreams

 

When I first started writing fiction the possibility of getting my novel published seemed remote. This was back in the nineties when the internet was in its infancy; there weren’t dozens of authors blogging about their publication stories.

I didn’t know anyone who had ever published a book. I lived in medium-sized city in Georgia, and only a few people I knew read a lot of books much less wrote them. Getting published seemed like an impossible dream.

But then I went to my first writers’ conference, and I encountered real-life published authors, swilling beer and milling about just like normal people.

Shortly afterwards I met an author who read my stuff and actually liked it. Finally I felt like I had permission to imagine myself as a writer. At another writing conference, I bumped into other writers who also wanted to get published, and we started a writers’ group and the dream got even little closer.

After a year, I finished a novel and queried agents and actually had one call me because she liked my writing so much, and finally the dream was almost close enough to touch.

Finally after submissions and revisions, I got an offer from a major publisher and the dream coalesced into a reality.

That’s the way dreams come true, even though, at first, my dream seemed so far away it was as if I was looking at it through the wrong end of binoculars.

It only began to be possible when I imagined myself living the dream, and closing in on what I wanted, step by step.

I met resistance along the way; friends and family told me my dreams were frivolous and impossible.

I came to realize these were people who had given up on their own dreams, and thus felt threatened by mine.

It goes without saying that if you encounter naysayers on your journey, while you should be respectful of them and wish them well, you must not listen to them.

Surprisingly, though, the most serious resistance sometimes came from within me.

When you declare your dream to the universe, forces will begin align to make it come true. Sometimes I sabotaged myself by having my own ideas about how my dream should manifest.

Frequently I turned away those who were willing to help me in my writing career. Sometimes I ignored wise advice, assuming I knew what was best.

That’s why I now remain alert and mindful to any assistance that comes my way so I don’t accidentally discount it. I’ve learned that sometimes what looks like a wormy apple might actually be sweet and delicious once I bite into it.

Many times I experienced frustration and setbacks, and instead of accepting them as part of the journey, I was tempted to use them as excuses to quit plugging away.

I still have plenty of writing dreams, and whenever I get discouraged or feel doubtful, I go outside and look at the moon.

I like to imagine the first person who actually had the audacity to think it was possible to travel there. Can you imagine the doubters he encountered and the obstacles he overcame?

And yet somehow that dream, that journey of nearly 239,000 miles into space got closer and closer, until one day magical day, Neal Armstrong lumbered across the lunar surface. The impossible became possible.

If you want to achieve your own writing dreams, there are several steps to follow.

1. Declare your dream. Write it down or shout into a canyon or hire a skywriter, but make your intentions known.

2. Do what it takes to make the impossible seem possible. For instance when I finally met real-life writers and realized they were mortals who didn’t have words shooting magically out of their fingers, I could finally imagine being one of them.

3. Refuse to listen to doubt from others or from yourself.

4. Be alert to any assistance that comes your way, and be careful you don’t discount or ignore it. Don’t get too attached to how and when the dream will manifest. Just keep yourself aligned with the end result.

5. Embrace frustrations and setbacks as part of the journey.

What is your wildest writing dream?

 

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The Only Kind of Writing Advice You Should Ever Take to Heart

 

I was reading a craft book the other day, and the author was witty and extremely knowledgeable but he was also very, very snarky.

As informative as his book was, I didn’t want his voice in my head so I put it aside. He was constantly talking about his students’ failings. His distain for them was obvious and it made me feel sorry for anyone who had ever attended his workshops.

Many writing teachers justify harsh tactics, saying that the road to publication is tough and students need to grow a thick skin. I used to think that way myself, but now I question that tactic.

When I look back on the many writing teachers I’ve had, whether it be the author of a craft book or a real-life teacher, I realize I didn’t gain the most from the extremely critical teachers. In fact, I got the most from a teacher who looked at my writing and immediately identified the glitter among the ashes.

Were if not for him, it might have taken much longer for me to claim my identity as a writer. I was not a very good writer when he critiqued me, but he made me believe that I could grow into one. That is the best kind of teacher, the one who can look past the bumbling and fumbling and posturing and see possibilities. I wish all writers could find someone like the man who encouraged me.

If a craft book makes you feel small, if a critiquer makes you feel diminished, you should close your ears to the advice. Even though some of it might be valid, if it comes with unkindness or snark, it’s not worth it and is hard to shake off.

Instead listen carefully to those rare individuals who are on your side, who are more concerned with what you do well, than where you fail. Pay close attention to the advice of teachers whose advice is gentle and who care about you and your writing more than they care about appearing superior or clever.

If you can’t find that in a real-life person, it can be found in books: I recommend the following:

Bird By Bird by Anne Lamott

If You Want to Write by Brenda Ureland

Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg

These books are also good for washing away the ugliness of a scathing critique.

Critiques cans be hard, and you’re bound to encounter harsh ones, but always remember the words of Brenda Ureland:

“Everyone is talented because everyone who is human has something to express… Everyone is original, if he tells the truth, if he speaks from himself.”

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The Secret to Being a Productive and Focused Writer

 

For years I have set myself a goal of writing 2,000 words per day. Sometimes it felt like a prison sentence. I’d keep eyeing my word count, willing it to get larger.

Sometimes I’d be stuck in my office for eight to ten hours, and when I was finished, I’d feel hollowed out and weak, like someone who has given away too many pints of blood. Other times I’d write poor quality filler just to get the job done.

Much too often I’d become distracted; responding to the ding of my email like Pavlov’s dog, surfing the internet whenever I got stuck, hearing the damning words of Jonathan Franzen resound in my mind:

“It’s doubtful that anyone with an Internet connection at his workplace is writing good fiction.”

Luckily, all of the above ceased to be a problem when I found the Pomodoro Technique. An Italian named Francesco Cirillo invented the technique, and it can be used with any task but it works particularly well with writing.

It’s deceptively simple, which makes it all the more beautiful.

Set a kitchen timer to go off in 25 minutes and begin your work. Do not allow any interruptions. This 25-minute period is called a Pomodoro.

When the time is up, do something simple for five minutes. I often do short household chores and I like to get up from my desk to stretch my legs. Just make sure you don’t do anything too complex and don’t think about your work.

Repeat three more times. When you have completed four Pomodoros, take a 15-30 minute break. Then repeat the entire sequence again for a total of eight Pomodoros. Of course you don’t have to do eight. Maybe you only have time for four.

Using this method had changed the way I work.

It’s quite unusual for me to ever write less than 2,000 words and now I do it in almost half the time.

The quality of writing is also better because when I’m doing a Pomodoro I never give into distraction.

People who use the method claim that they have greater clarity of thought, higher consciousness and sharper focus.

I’ve definitely found this to be true. I also think it tricks the brain into focusing. After all who can’t concentrate on their writing for a mere 25-minutes?

If you want to learn move about the method, visit http://www.pomodorotechnique.com/.

Three Thought Patterns That Can Harm Your Writing

Japanese painters can create clever and lovely images with just a few brush strokes. It seems effortless, but much work and time has come before they can paint with ease.

And so it is with writers; sweat must be put in to learn the craft, whether it’s poetry or novels or essays. Eventually the craft is mastered, and yet, still some writers suffer as if they were beginners.

Why? It’s our minds, the greatest enemy of the writer.

When an experienced writer sits down to begin his work, his insecurities and neuroses often sit down with him. Here is what he or she might tell himself:

1. I must write beautiful sentences.

We write to communicate with others, if your predilection is to write beautiful sentences, they will come. If this is not your predilection, you will have another. Maybe it is humor, maybe it is wise observations, maybe it is clarity. All writers have their own particular gifts. Write enough without self-consciousness, and you will discover yours.

2. I must write with a voice.

If you have practiced enough, you have a voice. A voice is natural and can’t be forced any more than you can force a personality.

3. I must write to impress others so I can be famous, rich, respected or sleep with very attractive women or men.

Do not bring this expectation into the writing. Bring your heart, bring your desire to express, bring your playfulness, your passion. Write because you want to co-create with the Divine or simply because it gives you pleasure. Bring lightness to your writing and never treat it as a means to an end.

You may have other “musts” and the only way to be aware of them is to tune into what thoughts your mind churns as you write. The less cluttered your thought patterns, the better the writing.

Why You Shouldn’t Compete With Other Writers

When I was an undergrad at a community college I loved to get such a high grade on a test I’d screw up the curve.

Obnoxious, but it gave me a rush.

When I got to law school, I also wanted to be the best but found myself in a much more elite crowd and ended up being in the bottom half of my class.

I was so upset about my failure to compete I dropped out.

Comparing ourselves to other is the game of the ego. When we’re on top we get to feel superior; when we’re at the bottom we feel despair. The trouble is we can never always be on top.

Instead of looking side to side at the other guys, be a thoroughbred and run your own race. The results are likely to be more interesting. As Seth Godin says, “The problem with competition is that it takes away the requirement to set your own path, to invent your own method, to find a new way… Competing with yourself is more difficult, requires more bravery and leads to more insight.”

How Important is Writing Talent?

I’ve always wanted to play the mandolin… but I have a tin ear.

I’ve wanted to tango… but I have two left feet.

I’ve always wanted to write poetry… but my eighth-grade English teacher told my poems bite.

Have you ever denied yourself an activity because you didn’t think you had the talent?

That’s a mistake; it turns out that if you have the desire, talent isn’t necessary.

That’s right. If there’s an activity you really, really want to do, go ahead and give it a whirl.

Follow that up with a heap of practice, and one day you might be a world-class performer.

Talent, it turns out, is the least important thing. Some people wonder if it’s even necessary at all to a person’s success.

What about Mozart?

Geoff Colvin, author of “Talented Is Overrated” makes a great case that Mozart’s genius was due to effort.

Did you know his father was a famous composer? That he started training Mozart at the age of three? That his early compositions weren’t written in Mozart’s own hand? That dad always “corrected” his son’s work, and quit composing around the same time Mozart started?

In fact, Mozart didn’t write his first masterpiece until he was twenty-one. Precocious yes, but you might be a kick-butt composer too if you had eighteen years of heavy-duty dad training.

Tiger Woods had a similar background and a very similar dad.

According to Colvin, it’s practice, not talent, that makes perfect. However it takes a specific type of practice to be perfect, which he talks about at length in his book.

Definitely worth a read.

So what’s stopping you?

Not a lack of talent for sure.

Go forth and be… a competitive hotdog eater, a belly dancer, a competitive bowler or whatever floats your pretty little sailboat.

Desire and practice is all you need.

Are You Trying Too Hard To be a Good Writer?

As a novelist I get a lot of criticism. If it’s useful I pay attention and try to improve; if not I shrug it off. Recently I got some feedback that stung: It said I was trying too hard.

The criticism had the ring of truth. There was so much effort in my work. I was trying to be clever, trying to be literary, and trying to please. My critic had seen my sweat marks, and that was no good.

Writing is difficult but in the reading you should not see the effort. That applies to anything we undertake.

We want to succeed at what we do but when we try too hard we meet roadblocks. Just like when you’ve forgotten something; it’s on the tip of your tongue, but if you strain to remember, it’ll never come.

It’s when you’re not thinking about it that it materializes.

Whatever you do, whether if be writing or painting, treat it lightly, playfully. If you feel yourself starting to perspire, you’re probably making things worse.

It might sound trite but there’s some truth to this saying:

Never let them see you sweat.

Back To Beginner’s Mind

As a novelist I’ve been through a couple of incarnations.

For a while I decided the way to write was by the seat of my pants.

I didn’t plan, not even a one-page outline and that seemed to work for me.

Until it didn’t.

After a while I ended up throwing away my work because the structure was flawed.

Then I decided I was a plotter, and I was going to outline every scene. Overnight I turned into a structure evangelist trying to convert the uninitiated. And that worked for me.

Until it didn’t.

Turned out I was writing formulaic stories that lacked heart.

After that I got to the point where I didn’t know anything .

That was truly scary. Considering I’d been writing novels for over a decade.

For a while I questioned whether or not I should write fiction any more.

But then I realized I’d returned to beginner’s mind, where the possibilities are endless and new insights are able to filter through.

Yes. I feel a little underdressed when I’m not clothed in the armor of my beliefs.

But I think I’ll stay here.