Gut Riders Wanted

The more I read Brenda Ueland’s book “If You Want to Write: A Book about Art, Independence and Spirit” the more obvious it becomes to me how many writers who wish more than life itself to be published aren’t reading it. I agree with Brenda that we all have a story to tell and a unique and sharp writer’s voice in which to tell it. The problem is so many of us don’t reach way down to find it but instead ice skate along with adjectives, adverbs and long winded sentences that glide but do not delight or guide us through their tale.

I want to read someone’s writing as I eat good food (or even junk food) in big bites, easy to take in, tasty, and completely satisfying bite after bite, chewed down and swallowed, every little bit and chunk, completely eaten and digested. I don’t want to eat morsels, randomly salted with an interesting word or phrase, meant to mask the overall recipe that is just going wrong or holding great promise but weighed down with inappropriate sauces and ingredients.

I have been published very little in my nearly three decades as a writer. It is totally my fault as I simply write and discard and seldom send out. I am not fabulous in grammar and punctuation. I am lazy, unproductive, and have enough issues to write volumes of books, but I freeze up like I wish our glaciers still did.

Still, I want to be a clear and heavily eaten writer. So I’m a sideline cook who’s learning thanks to people like Brenda Ueland and Stephen King (“Memoir on Writing”) to use the tools of good writing and to write from the well of who I am. Unfortunately, it has also helped me to detect if other writers are doing the same. So many aren’t.

Good writing seems to be good from the gut. Your gut. No one else’s. And even if it sounds or tastes appealing, taste it again with the sensory buds of your voice. Is it delicious or deliciously clever and still not making a connection with you or your reader?

Be real. Do you love the way the words fit together but does it do nothing for your story or thoughts? Get rid of it and insert your true voice. Instead of showing your refined vocabulary, show us your cranky, sobbing, operatic voice.

Now sing, dammit. And I will too.