Tag: Hemingway

Books

Hemingway Lesson Part II – Replenish your creative well

confidentwriterLeave a comment

I love the scene from The Shining when Shelley Duvall goes into Jack Nicolson’s office and finds a stack of paper with “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy” typed repeatedly for hundreds of pages. When I first saw it, back the 80’s, it really creeped me out. But now whenever I find myself in front of a blank computer screen with absolutely nothing to write about, it suddenly makes sense (well, sort of). It’s almost impossible to write when your creativity well is empty. That’s where we can take another lesson from Hemingway. Work hard, then replenished your well:

When I was writing, it was necessary for me to read after I had written. If you kept thinking about it, you would lose the thing that you were writing before you could go on with it the next day. It was necessary to get exercise, to be tired in the body, and it was very good to make love with whom you loved. That was better than anything. But afterwards, when you were empty, it was necessary to read in order not to think or worry about your work until you could do it again (25).

We sometimes make ourselves into “dull boys” by not doing activities that refresh us. My free time is often filled with checking email, Facebook, Twitter or surfing the Internet. And if I’m honest, it’s all pretty draining. Exercise, on the other hand, is not only beneficial for our health, but also does wonders for our creativity. It clears the mind by transferring the focus from our brains to our bodies. When I’m exercising, I have a hard time maintaining a train of thought. I get lost in the activity because my endorphins have kicked in or I’m in too much pain to think about anything else. Either way, I come back to my writing recharged.

I also find it helpful to spend quality time with the people I love. Being with my husband is the best. Enough said.

Hemingway emphasizes the importance of reading by making it the bookend for all of his activities. Writers know that it’s essential to read. I would argue the benefits of reading reach far beyond writers. It stimulates thinking and expands the mind. It can also be entertaining. Far too often I treat reading as an extension of my work rather than using it to replenish my creative well. Everything I read is either instructional or spiritual. Even when I pick up a novel I study it for craft rather just enjoy it. My daughter once told me all the novels I read are depressing. So she picked out something fun for me to read. Surprisingly, I enjoyed the light-heartedness of her selection. I think that is exactly what Hemingway was saying. Reading should transport us to another place to let our mind rest. When we’re resting, our mind does its best work.

Just like we have to commit ourselves to our work, we also have to regularly replenishing our well. So my challenge for you this week is to do something fun. Spend the weekend replenishing your creative well. Remember, “all work and no play makes {insert your name} a dull boy/girl”.

Books

Lessons by Hemingway Part I

confidentwriter3 Comments

I’ve had a really hard time writing my blog this week. The problem started Monday morning. After forty minutes of writing my morning pages, I dashed off to the airport to pick up my son. I took him home and then ran a few errands. By one o’clock, I was on the opposite end of town at my husband’s company golf outing. He was short-staffed and asked me to help out. I spent two hours watching golfers attempt to make a hole in one for a trip to Myrtle Beach. Not the greatest use of my time, in spite of the beautiful weather. By the time I made it back home the only thing I wanted to do was veg-out on the sofa. Quite ironic considering my morning pages had been about Hemingway’s strong commitment to his work. Over and over again in A Movable Feast Hemingway talks about completing his work before he did anything else:

I always worked until I had something done and I always stopped when I knew what was going to happen next. That way I could be sure of going on the next day (12).

Then too I never knew when I would be through working. . . (44).

In the spring mornings I would work early while my wife still slept (49).

At first I thought of course he was committed to his work, he was Ernest Hemingway. But when he lived in Paris, he hadn’t made a name for himself. He was training to become writer. He barely had enough money to support himself and his family. The success came after the commitment.

It reminds me of what the Bible says about faith:

Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen: it gives us assurance about things we cannot see” (Hebrews 11:1 NLT).

If I want writing to become my vocation, I have to behave as if it already is. That means when it is time to write I can’t be sucked into the black hole of family responsibility. When I taught at the college, my class time was sacred. I would have never gone to pick someone up from the airport or volunteered to help out at a golf outing. In fact, I taught even when I wasn’t feeling well. But I don’t treat my writing time the same way. I don’t think of it as “work.” I get caught up in the idea that “work” is only significant if there is a paycheck attached to it.

Like Hemingway, we must commit wholeheartedly to cultivating our craft regardless of compensation or return. We write not to be paid but because we have something to say. This brings us back to the idea of establishing a writing time and sticking to it. It takes discipline and steadfastness in spite of all that life throws at you.

Re-reading A Movable Feast has made me see the value in honoring my writing time as if it were a paying job. So here is my challenge to you. Commit to a specific writing time  next week. Take a hint from Hemingway and don’t stop until you have something done.

Are you in?

Books

Hemingway – A Moveable Feast

confidentwriter6 Comments

Lately I’ve been obsessed with reading novels that fictionalize famous authors. I read The Secret Confessions of Anne Shakespeare (about Shakespeare’s wife) and Becoming Jane Eyre (about the inner life of Charlotte Bronte). Part of the obsession is my love of history. I would have been a history major had it not been for Professor Tennyson’s Medieval, Renaissance, and Reformation Europe class freshman year. The other part comes from a curiosity as to how contemporary writers fictionalize famous authors from other time periods. I just finished writing a novel about a woman in 1928 who has a correspondence with Langston Hughes. Reading similar novels gives me insight as to how I might improve my own novel.

I just recently finished reading The Paris Wife , by Paula McLain. McLain (fellow University of Michigan alum) writes about Ernest Hemingway’s time in Paris during the early 1920s from the perspective of his first wife, Hadley. Throughout the novel there are references to Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast.  So much so  I felt the need to re-read Hemingway’s novel.

I’m not a Hemingway fan. I tend to prefer stories written about women. His subjects are too manly, and well chauvinistic for my taste. And yet I love his style. The short declarative sentences and precise word choice really turns me on (as a writer). Prior to going back to grad school, I read one of his novels at least once a year for medicinal purposes.  When I read his work, I write better.  A Moveable Feast is by far my favorite. I loved the idea of moving around the world feasting on experiences to feed your writing so much that I modeled a class around the concept when I taught writing at North Central College in Naperville, IL. Every morning, for two weeks, we meet in a different coffee shop or cafe around town. We did various writing exercises and shared our work with one another. It was amazing how much the environment enriched everyone’s writing, including my own. I can only imagine what would happen if I could spend time in Paris, experiencing the culture, drinking wine in the cafes and writing. But unfortunately that isn’t realistic for my life. I’m a wife and mother whose sophomore in high school needs to be picked up at 3:40 whether or not I’ve written my “one true sentence” for the day.

Nonetheless, there is still much we can learn as writers from Hemingway’s memoir.  For example when I read: “After writing a story I was always empty and both sad and happy, as though I had made love . . .” (6), I suddenly understand why I have been unable to look at my manuscript. So much went into crafting it. I have nothing else to give.  And yet I miss the constant interaction. I doubt I would have ever connected that experience to making love, but Hemingway did. And his directness enables me to understand my craft. It helps me to be a more confident writer.

So the next few post will be dedicated to lessons we can learn from Hemingway, the writer.

Until next time . . .