Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life – funniest book ever. I can hardly get through this. I’m 17% done. I have written something since I was old enough to write. No pressure to publish, just love to write. Can’t help myself really. It just flows out. Anne Lamott can tell you exactly what happens.
“You sit down to write… what you have in mind is…a history of-oh say- say women. …Then your mental illnesses arrive at the desk like your sickest, most secretive relatives. … After a moment I may notice that I’m trying to decide whether or not I am too old for orthodontia, and whether right now would be a good time to make a few calls, and then I start to think about learning to use makeup and how maybe I could find some boyfriend who is not a total and complete fixer upper, and then my life would be totally great… Then I think about all the people I should have called back before I sat down to work and how I should probably at least check in with my agent and tell him this great idea I have and see if he thinks it’s a good idea, and see if he thinks I need orthodontia-if that is what he is actually thinking whenever we have lunch together…”
Maybe you will be better at finishing this book than I am so far. As soon as I start reading, I have to write the same thing that happened to me only in a different way.
So I’m trying to get through at least one more chapter without stopping to write any more of her funniness.
HOWEVER, I’ve been on a writing roll since 12-27, but husband told me yesterday. I thought he meant 12:27, but that’s another argument. (minor, minor one folks)
The other day after rewriting Girls on Fire for at least four hours, I took a break to take the dog outside. The good news is that I had dressed. Many days I don’t change out of pajamas until I know I have to go somewhere, and now I hate to leave the house for any reason. But that day, I did throw on some jeans and a t-shirt I’d been wearing for a day or two.
My hair was still rumpled in a way only women with hot flashes understand. The straight bangs that used to be thin and straight are now fluffy in all directions. The back of my hair sticks out about an inch from my head then falls limply leaving a huge part the size of my hand in the back.
So I walked out on the front porch and waited for the dog, who I’ve ignored all morning, and who drives up but the Bing car. Maybe you’ve never seen the Bing car. It’s white with a black sign on the side that says Bing. On the top is a 5 or 6 foot pole, and on top of the pole is a camera(s). The Bing car drives down your road at about 30 miles an hour shooting pictures from all angles from the camera(s) perched on top of the car. The result will be pictures you can zoom down to see your street at any angle. I’ve always worried that one of these cars will shoot through the fence in the backyard when I’m skinny dipping at midnight so no one will see me. So far, until last week I’ve been safe, but last week the Bing car drove down my street.
I wouldn’t worry as much, but the picture that is up on Google has been there since we had our GMC motor home, which was about 6 years ago. So I’m obsessing that this horrible series of shots of my bad hair day will be up there for everyone to see for the next 6-7 years. What if I become famous? Will newspapers pick this up and publish it?
Now do you see why I’ve only read 17% of this wonderful book? You’d better read it yourself instead of waiting for a book review from me.
How are you today?