Author Amy
Tan gave a lecture in Seattle
last week; I sat in a nearly sold-out auditorium to hear her talk about her
writing process and who she is as a writer.
I didn’t know whether to feel reassured or discouraged when
she said, “I revise constantly—usually 100 times,” and “I’ve never written a
novel I consider to be finished.”
Tan spoke my mind with, “What I observe becomes what I’m writing,
and what I’m writing influences what I observe,” and “I write to understand who
I am.”
I especially appreciated the response she gave to a
teacher’s question about what advice she would give to young readers.
“Read, read, read,” Tam said. “And keep a journal.” Tan spoke about the value of making
notes about your thoughts, your observations, dreams, and memories. “In fact,” she went on, “make someone buy
you a really nice journal.”
I did a mental pump fist with that last recommendation. I had been putting the final touches on
a limited edition set of hand-bound writing journals for a show at Chimera Gallery, and I was hoping
that people would find them inspiring.
They’re really nice journals.
Even more than hearing Tan’s support of journals like those
that I make, I appreciated her acknowledgment of the act of putting pen to
paper. Although I do most of my
composing, revising, and editing on a computer (and frankly wouldn’t want to have
to give up this invention), I appreciate the benefits of writing longhand in a blank journal.
Long before people had computers, journaling was a part of Quaker
practice. In 1972, Howard Brinton
published Quaker Journals following
his study of the 300 journals in his own library. He found they all had several things in common: simplicity and truth in writing;
personal experiences, experiences in early childhood, and dreams were only
written about if the writer believed they had religious significance;
humility. He also found they
recorded similar stages of development:
divine revelations in childhood, then a period of youthful playfulness
(usually looked back upon as a waste of time), an experience of a divided self,
and finally following the leadings of the Light.
Mary Morrison, a writer and former Pendle Hill teacher, has
this to say about journaling in Live the
Questions: Write into the Answers: “A journal is an instrument of
awareness, through which we can watch what we do so we can find out who we are.”
Amy Tan would agree.
And from Ann Broyles in Journaling
– A Spiritual Journey: “Journaling
becomes spiritual discipline when we use pen and paper to strengthen our faith
in God. We can use journaling as a companion to prayer, Bible study, fasting, or
any other spiritual discipline that is already part of our life in God.
Journaling can be a significant tool in deepening our spiritual lives because
by its nature it leads us to further revelation of who we are and who God is in
our lives.”
How about you?
Is journaling part of your writing and/or spiritual practice?
Do you have a really good journal?
If by "really good" you mean dedicated, long-lasting, articulate (at least I think so!) and effectively therapeutic, then yes--I have kept such a journal for 37 1/2 years. But to the eye, no, my journals are hideous: I use scruffy old spiral notebooks. Your gorgeous books I would only use as gifts, I'm afraid. But apparently, that's my "revelation of who [I am]! Great post, Iris.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Gretchen. What matters most is the writing. You have a treasure trove with your collection of journals, and that’s what makes them “really good."
ReplyDelete