Wanted to let you know: I’m doing NANOWRIMO (however you spell it) next month.
I’d like to tell your students something, if you think it will help them.
I think it would’ve helped me to hear this.
You will not magically find the time to write after college.
Time will fly as never before in your life when you leave this campus. Looking back, you will wonder how you ever had this much free time... when whole hours seemed to drift like lazy summer days. Cherish this gift, and use the days well. You will not see their like again.
You will never be more free than you are right now.
As graduation looms, you will see the corridors of commerce open to you. You may find yourself in a dark suit, winding clockwork patterns beneath marble pillars. Or you may drift into chaotic markets, where life’s rhythms shift endlessly in a whirlwind of color and sound.
One day, you start to hear music over the noise of the crowd. You look up, and see leaves dancing on every tree. Stars wheel overhead, and you realize there are other worlds than these.
And you will want to write.
What’s more, you will decide to finish something.
To call it into existence. Because the thought of silencing that beautiful song becomes a act of criminal negligence. Because you cannot bear the shame leaving a blank page when you have seen masterpieces of beauty and truth.
For those of you wish to truly dedicated their life to this art, that decision will begin today.
Those of you who wish to succeed, will not stop until the work is done.
I thought of cheating with this – not sending it till after I finished NANOWRIMO. It’s probably more advisable to succeed first before boldly painting myself into a corner like I’ve just done.
I guess that’s why the crazy heroes always make a speech. For that extra boost of motivation; knowing they’ll be laughed out of town if they fail. It will mean they conned someone into believing in them and let that person down.
I don’t intend to do that.
I’m writing with a buddy, and we intend to kick each other’s ass if we don’t write. (Michelle, take notes) I think it’s better this way. I can imagine ahead of time the sting of becoming a hypocrite should I fail. It’s on the page in black and white. I have someone to remind me if I fail. I need that.
Try it: let your classmates know you’re joining NANOWRIMO this month.
Let them know you’re serious. Let yourself know you’re serious. Let them kick your ass if you start to decide otherwise. ;-). Because if you’re not serious, what are you doing here? You want a vacation, visit Tahiti. You’re here to learn to write, dammit.
Ps. READ the books Chester assigns.
This is the exception to the rule you became familiar with after several semesters in college:
“Will there be a test on it? Then I don’t need to read it, do I?”
Normally higher education involves somebody you do not know, teaching you about something you do not want to know. Instead, you have the privilege of studying under a woman who imparts secrets of the most ancient magic known to man.
You’ve done well by choosing this class. Do yourself another favor and listen.
Listen and write.
Today.
~~~
That ended up longer than I anticipated. Well, I hope you’re not annoyed with this little vignette.
I guess that’s the trial of all mentors who take on foolish students; you risk being subjected to their work hereafter. But then you also have the compliment of knowing they value your opinion, and always will.
Best wishes,
~Jessica
From: Deborah Chester [mailto:[log in to unmask]]
Sent: Tuesday, March 25, 2008 12:57 PM
To: Jessica Cox
Subject: Re: About the stories...
You're welcome. Good luck!
On Mar 25, 2008, at 12:16 AM, Jessica Cox wrote:
*smiles* Reliable good advice gives such comfort. Especially when you know you need it. “Go” is very crucial advice.
Few people hold the power of inspiring others to act on their dreams. You have that gift, and I greatly appreciate it.
Sent: Tuesday, March 11, 2008 12:09 PM
Subject: Re: About the stories...
If you're fortunate to get a book idea that burns your bones, then not writing it is a crime against the talent you were born with. Not writing it is a dismissal of all the hard work you poured into training your abilities so that you could harness that talent.
What do pain and sacrifice matter? Count not the effort or the cost. Look to the result.
I think you knew what I'd tell you, didn't you?
On Mar 11, 2008, at 12:26 AM, Jessica Cox wrote:
I hope this finds you well. I haven’t checked in for quite a while. In case memory fails, this is Jessica; the writing student who always searched your candy jar for dark chocolate. The one talking and laughing with Liz and Michelle during your Novel and Category Fiction lectures.
I have a simple question for you. It’s about the stories.
In our talks, you mentioned a lot of sacrifices you’ve made for your art. Seclusion. Many hard hours for relatively small return. Pouring your heart out like water to call those characters and worlds into being.
I thought by taking a business writing route, I could make a living writing without sacrificing so much of my life for a story.
It’s worked pretty well so far. But now I’ve got a story that’s starting to burn in my bones. Damn thing won’t shut up. And it’s not an easy story either; it’s going to require a bit of pain on my part to write it. Nothing gained without sacrifice, as they say.
So my well-preserved binder of notes from Novel is starting to call to me. I thought I would ask someone who knows.
Because it will cost me to write the kind of story that’s shaping in my head. And I wonder if I can even pull it off.
John Crain Presidential Professor
Gaylord College of Journalism & Mass Communication
John Crain Presidential Professor
Gaylord College of Journalism & Mass Communication