Stealing Home
My father has a couple of expressions.
A day without larceny is like a day without sunshine.
And . . .
If you aren't cheating, you aren't trying hard enough.
Not bad expressions. Granted, they are not, "Do unto others," or anything from the Bible--Dad's an atheist. It's not Socrates, "An unexamined life is is not worth living." They're not run-of-the-mill "dad-like" expressions. I don't know . . . what do dads usually tell you? You see, I was well into college, my parents were visiting, and stealing everything in the Hyatt that wasn't nailed down--there are REASONS hotels nail things down. My father is one of them. I had plants from their lobby in my college apartment. Sugar bowls. Creamers. Plates. Silverware. Towels. I STILL have some Hyatt washcloths, but since it was twenty years ago, I can admit this now that the statute of limitations is over. Anyway, I was well into college and meeting my friends' dads who were bankers and so on . . . and they were most definitely not like my dad. And I was, for the first time, REALLY glad my dad was my dad. Life was not boring. In short, Grand Theft Hyatt taught me a greater appreciation of my father. I suddenly "got" that I had a unique perspective on the world, and I should nurture it rather than ever conform.
Which leads me to the point of this blog. I must thank Ewoh, who visits here, for reminding me of something very elemental, but good to keep in mind. I write MY story.
You see, I admire, very much, Neil Gaiman. The man is a genius. But he writes HIS story. Whatever that is and however it gets filtered on the page. And I can't write Neil Gaiman's story, any more than he can write mine. My story is unique, and the experiences that made me who I am were all necessary and vital and they brought me HERE as a writer to THIS moment in time. And I have MY story to write.
Some people may look askance at my Hyatt washcloths. My sugar bowls. I no longer commit petty theft--along the way I became a Buddhist and there's this karma thing. But it was MY journey and, man, I wouldn't trade a single bit of it. I love my dad and mom with all my being. And I wouldn't trade a minute of it. I have my story to tell. You have yours. Remembering that keeps each of us from envy. We can admire someone else's work. But in the end . . . you've got to write your story. From your unique set of experiences.
Thoughts?
And if the CEO of Hyatt calls, I will deny ALL of this.
Peace,
E
6 comments:
The only envy I've ever felt, concerning writing, has been admiration for a really cool title. LORD SIN comes to mind, and a couple others I seem to have forgotten.
Some titles just make you itch to write a whole novel based on them!
I'm way too only-child/self-centered to want to tell anyone else's story but my own. When I was little, I'd get mad at people who dared have the same name as me, LOL. I got over it. :-)
As an avid reader, it's been difficult to find my own writing voice.
As much as I admire, Mr. King, Mr. Koontz, Ms. Orloff, and Ms. Roberts, cloning other's style or voice isn't an option (it just don't work).
When I write, I don't read similar fiction. And when I come up for air from writing, I dive into reading as if I've been starving.
P.S. Mom "collects" salt and pepper shakers and small, purse-size serving bowls. ;-)
Hi Spy:
I admire cool titles too--like, why didn't I think of that?!?!
E
kathy:
I don't read similar fiction when I am writing either. I am so afraid someone's voice will "rub off" on me, even though it's never happened yet.
E
P.S. Perhaps mom and I can compare collections.
As I read this post I became confused as to why you were quoting from your book 'The Roofer'... until I read the end of the post. Then I re-read the post again and I got it.
We, as writers, can only write the stories we have in us. We can mimic other writers, but it will never be as good as writing what is really our own.
Looking at it from the readers perspective - and borrowing from one of Erica's earlier posts - it is the difference between reading a story, and not being able to put down the book.
Something else that I have been thinking about on this subject... if you look at a story as a conversation between the author and the audience, then it makes sense that the more honest or true-to-yourself/your voice you are in your writing the better the conversation you have with your audience - the more compelling your story is to the reader.
The hard part about conversations is that they disappear, unless we keep them alive. In this sense your story-as-a-conversation is kept alive every time someone reads it. In that way your conversation can be shares and continued in ways that normal conversations cannot... and it can last longer as well.
Thanks for the mention Erica and I'm happy that this conversation is continuing :)
Hi Ewoh:
Yup. Some things in that book were borrowed heavily from real life.
:-)
And I love what you say about conversation. I just find my whole sense of the brevity of life--it is short and we must treasure each day--means that I don't have time for pseudo-intellectual conversations, for small talk, for B.S. I bring ME to the table, good, bad, or ugly. So it makes sense that I bring that to a book, too. Just strive to be very "real," very honest.
Great way to think og it--conversations . . .
E
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