Marking our vectors . . .
I came across the following words about the creative process by Barry Moser a while back and I was recently reminded of them:
"...What else? Experiment and fail. Move on. Always keep in motion and finish the job, even if it's not exactly what you hoped it would be or not as good as it could be. The fact is that it will never be as good as it could be, and that's okay because it's all part of the never-ending, self-perpetuating growth process--and failure is the foundation of that process. I've done over two hundred books and not one of them is perfect. But I'll tell you this: I would rather have the two hundred and fifty-six imperfect books that mark the vectors of my journey through my art form than to have one perfect book that marks nothing but its own perfect self."
The words that keep resonating with me, is "mark the vectors of my journey." It is a positive way of looking at where we have fallen short or even our utter failures. We learn and grow from all these experiences, not just in terms of writing but life itself. I wouldn't erase the lows of my life anymore than I would the highs. They mark who I have become. They're my history, and honestly, without some of those lows, failures, and stumbles, I think I would be a very lonely person. Who would I need to help this "perfect" person along?
I think in our society, failure is not acceptable on most levels, but in the creative world, isn't it a necessity? If we don't push, experiment, and try the unknown--and sometimes fail--aren't we sentenced to recycled art? I always admire an author who is maybe on a hazy new edge of storytelling or writing style--not when I can see that they are being gimicky--but when I see they are genuinely trying to cut deeper to the truth of a story. Even if it doesn't quite "get there" I have to hand it to them for trying. All of their attempts "mark the vectors" of my journey too.
"...What else? Experiment and fail. Move on. Always keep in motion and finish the job, even if it's not exactly what you hoped it would be or not as good as it could be. The fact is that it will never be as good as it could be, and that's okay because it's all part of the never-ending, self-perpetuating growth process--and failure is the foundation of that process. I've done over two hundred books and not one of them is perfect. But I'll tell you this: I would rather have the two hundred and fifty-six imperfect books that mark the vectors of my journey through my art form than to have one perfect book that marks nothing but its own perfect self."
The words that keep resonating with me, is "mark the vectors of my journey." It is a positive way of looking at where we have fallen short or even our utter failures. We learn and grow from all these experiences, not just in terms of writing but life itself. I wouldn't erase the lows of my life anymore than I would the highs. They mark who I have become. They're my history, and honestly, without some of those lows, failures, and stumbles, I think I would be a very lonely person. Who would I need to help this "perfect" person along?
I think in our society, failure is not acceptable on most levels, but in the creative world, isn't it a necessity? If we don't push, experiment, and try the unknown--and sometimes fail--aren't we sentenced to recycled art? I always admire an author who is maybe on a hazy new edge of storytelling or writing style--not when I can see that they are being gimicky--but when I see they are genuinely trying to cut deeper to the truth of a story. Even if it doesn't quite "get there" I have to hand it to them for trying. All of their attempts "mark the vectors" of my journey too.
YES!
hurrah! I call my previous art stuff a document of where I was at a certain point in time. Like my music and stuff. Whatever, finish and move onto the next thing. That's where the fun is.
not the resting. OK TOMATO!
p.s. so good meeting you at ALA. if we are in each others town, TEA is in order!
Re: YES!
:-)
My Bary Moser quote: "Language is a form and manifestation of place."
A couple years ago I said on a message board that failure had been good for me, and it amazed me the huge outcry it created of how I hadn't failed. I don't know why the idea is so threatening to some people. I do think failure involves surrender, and letting go allows you to embrace something else.
I've never forgotten an interview I read with Philip Pullman on "How to Make a Book" that talks about this, too.
http://www.randomhouse.com/features/pul
I love this part:
And so you cut it, and you fiddle with it, and you change the order of this bit and that bit, until the story works. If it were a table, it would stand up without falling over, and you could put things on it and they wouldn't slide off, and from some angles it might actually look quite pretty.
That's the time to stop. You can polish a story so hard it vanishes under the gloss. I like stories (and pictures, and music) with a rough edge here and there. I like to see the brushstrokes, the kind of marks that show that a human being made this, not a machine.
I say that to myself sometimes that it's OK to leave room for the brushstrokes.
<< But. . .There comes a time, part-way through (in my case it usually happens around page 70), when you fall out of love with it. In fact, you begin to hate it. You read it over and you are convinced that never has anyone, in the history of the world, written anything so slack and feeble. You are ashamed. You can hardly look at yourself in the mirror.
But because it's too late now to do anything else, and because you're a stubborn so-and-so, you write on grimly until you get to the end. >>
Only I'm on page 104. Boy, is is ever perfect timing for me to hear this. Thanks for the link.
The easiest way to do a link is to simply type in the whole URL (including the http://) and then LiveJournal will automatically format it as a link.
The other way is with code.
http://www.livejournal.com/support/faqb
has the instructions on how to do that. I tried to write them out for you but LiveJournal keeps formatting whatever I type, instead of letting me show the formatting. :-(
PS
There's also a wonderful quote by Beckett:
"No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better."
(Anonymous)
failure and disabled writers/artists
rindawrter at http://rindawriter.blogspot.com