Comments on: How did you fall in love with writing?

By: Daphne Gray-Grant

Daphne Gray-Grant — Wed, 20 Feb 2013 00:55:00 +0000

In reply to Liz Williams. I loved "Writing Down the Bones," too.

By: Daphne Gray-Grant

Daphne Gray-Grant — Wed, 20 Feb 2013 00:54:00 +0000

In reply to Charli Mills. Love your image of capturing stories as if "dandelion seeds in the breeze"!

By: Liz Williams

Liz Williams — Wed, 20 Feb 2013 00:43:00 +0000

Loved this post, Daphne. I’ve always been in love with words and what they can do, but as a reader, not a writer. I fell in love with writing when I read Natalie Goldberg’s “Writing Down the Bones” and started free-writing as she describes it. It’s still my favorite way to find out what’s on my mind. I love seeing things flow out of my pen or keyboard that I haven’t yet thought. A 50,000-word free-write is what let me know I had a comic book inside me. I like what comes after too, the organizing and the choices and making it the best I can.

By: Charli Mills

Charli Mills — Tue, 19 Feb 2013 20:38:00 +0000

There’s something about being an only child that made me hyper-observant of others while at the same time locked in constant inner dialog. It’s as if I see the world in stories–I want to capture them like dandelion seeds in the breeze. Even before I could read, I understood that print on pages was a captive story. I have spent the rest of my life–and will continue–to chase the art of storytelling through writing. Most days I feel like Mozart is in my heart, but my fingers can barely tap a key correctly. I have so much to learn as a writer! But the learning is part of the love.

By: Daphne Gray-Grant

Daphne Gray-Grant — Fri, 15 Feb 2013 07:11:00 +0000

In reply to Saleha Singh. Good for you for enrolling in a creative writing class. You write with such a mature voice you don't sound as though you need any help from me!

By: Saleha Singh

Saleha Singh — Fri, 15 Feb 2013 01:46:00 +0000

Why do I write? May be like you I like sauntering and ambling instead of just walking. Or I can hear the whooooosh of the wind instead of the wind blowing. I didn’t even know I could write until a friend commented on an email I sent to her and others about a personal experience I had with an Iraqi refugee, who was on the verge of losing his Temporary Protection Visa. And, now I write for a living.
Last year I enrolled in a Creative Writing course and my tutor loves what I churn out every month (or so she says). Writing is my joy, my pride, my nemesis, my escape, my lover, my enemy… the list is endless.
Thank you for your newsltter: enjoy it thoroughly, and has helped me in many ways.

By: Daphne Gray-Grant

Daphne Gray-Grant — Thu, 14 Feb 2013 21:46:00 +0000

In reply to Heidi Croot. LOVE your line, "turn a thought into a pillow." Thanks for sharing!

By: Vicky White

Vicky White — Thu, 14 Feb 2013 21:36:00 +0000

In reply to Daphne Gray-Grant. Yes, I love that book - highly recommended for any introverts or anyone with loved ones who are.

By: Heidi Croot

Heidi Croot — Thu, 14 Feb 2013 20:37:00 +0000

In reply to Daphne Gray-Grant. Marvellous, affirming, insightful, exonerating book!

By: Heidi Croot

Heidi Croot — Thu, 14 Feb 2013 17:10:00 +0000

Enjoyed your piece on why you love to write. It must be a Valentine’s week thing. We heard from Bob Bly today on much the same topic. Even my 150-word submission to my writer’s group yesterday focused on “why I write.” I didn’t even know why I write until I wrote it.

Why I write

I write to still the kicking feet within, to give reason and its adversary an arena, to put the question mark to bed.

I write so that I can climb, in secret, the ladder of inference; let sharp, pointed things in and out; do violence on paper and not on the street; figure out what just happened (then “tell it slant”); expose an idea—the way a winter melt reveals the pathways embroidered by small, warm animals under the snow.

I write to confuse the black dog, turn a thought into a pillow, feel a mother’s embrace, summon a wind from the west, leave my footprint for strangers. I write because I am not invented yet.

Mostly, I write in hope that the elusive, invisible hand will take over my pen.

🙂