My friend and writer pal Kristen Kittscher just started blogging, and she hit a home run her first time at bat. I was fascinated by her inaugural post, about the balance between trying to keep up with the fragmented online world while still maintaining good writing skills and finding time for true contemplation. At least, that's what I got out of it. She spells it out a lot more eloquently.
I'll be interviewing her soon about what it was like to win the YA category of the annual Pacific Northwest Writer's Association in 2009.
In the meantime, her post got me thinking about the differences between talking and doing.
Like most writers, I love hearing how other writers work. What's their schedule like? Do they prefer writing in the mornings or evenings? When does inspiration tend to hit? Do they write longhand, or always type first drafts? How often do they swap pages with a critique group?
The online world is fabulous for learning about and forming connections in the publishing industry, and I never get sick of these discussions. However, sometimes I find that if I start talking, I stop doing. Discussing the process can bleed it dry; strip away the magic from it.
Instead of Tweeting "#amwriting", why don't I just go about it quietly without an announcement? Why don't I turn off my Internet connection and revel in the privacy of creating? Do we fear that if we don't acknowledge something to the world at large, it didn't happen?
Before the Internet, writers were kind of recluses. And I think there was something nice about that, from time to time!