Many are the examples of beautiful works that were only started late, but it is rare to find a great writer who did not venture into writing long before he was able to produce something worthwhile. In fact, to be able to do this is precisely to practice until mastery is acquired, to experiment, make mistakes and learn. What is not acquired through this is the baggage of study and experience; but through this, and only through this, is acquired the ability to write well.
Tag: writing
The Impressive Thing About Habit…
The impressive thing about habit is that it accustoms the mind to difficult tasks, making them seem almost, almost easy; and even if it does not go that far, it trivializes doing them, something extraordinary in itself. Psychologically, getting used to doing something means doing it with less effort, like switching on an automatic execution mode. And it is only possible to see how beneficial, how powerful a habit is when one breaks it and then tries to do what one used to do naturally. Almost always, the effort needed to pick it up is less than the effort needed to give it up.
The Commitment Not to Give Up…
The commitment not to give up is the beginning and the harbinger of literary work. Without it, what is done does not become a work, but merely something fleeting and equally disposable. It is only this commitment that will sustain the effort when circumstances sabotage it, when the will to write itself fails. It is this that motivates habit, and it is only this that restores normality when habit, violated, transmutes a state of productive inertia into absolute torpor.
This Frustrated Longing for Isolation…
It is hard to say, but this frustrated longing for isolation, which has to be accepted as unfeasible and fought over in an apparently hostile daily life, seems more beneficial to the artist than actual, full and consummate isolation. In the first case, we have a spirit energized by circumstance; in the second, an incentive to inertia. In the first case, an effort that renews and justifies the longing, which makes the artist value isolation much more when it is partially achieved—because this is the truth: his longing, at worst, can always be partially achieved, and to better advantage than one might suppose.