the writers life | Bertram's Blog

Stream of Consciousness Blogging

June 9, 2009 — Pat Bertram

I’ve often used this blog as a form of stream of consciousness writing, trying to work through story problems, trying to figure out who I am as a writer, basically just letting my mind wander onto the page, but now that I’m getting more than a few readers, I feel a bit embarrassed about it. People are kind, and they feel a need to respond to what comes across as an appeal, when it is mostly just me working things out. (I know that is gramatically incorrect, but it is correct in the context. It is me, and I am working things out.) So, do I still keep it up at the risk of alienating people? Or do I try to be more professional and do what other writers do — give tips on writing, give tutorials, and whatever else it is that they do?

The thing is, I no longer feel qualified to give people instructions on how to write or get published — or anything else, for that matter. I did not follow the rules I was expounding — though I do think I followed through with the major one: thou shalt not bore thy readers. So far, with all the comments and reviews I’ve received, no one said they were bored. Nor do I know how to get published by a major publisher. So all I can do is what I’ve done all along — whether it’s a book or a blog, or the short story I’m supposed to be writing but am not — try to write what only I can write.

Perhaps with all the focus on trying to conform to the wishes of the major publishers, writers lose their individuality, their voice, their uniqueness. And no, I am not condoning sloppy writing. No matter how iconoclastic we are, we still need to get our points across, and one does that with good grammar, great word choice, and proper punctuation.

I’m sure there are a few people out there laughing their heads off — we used to argue these points in the early days of this blog, with me taking the party line. Actually, I’m laughing, too. Who would have thunk it?

So what am I saying to me and to you with this particular bit of stream of consiousness blogging? Perhaps only this: write and have fun and worry about the rest later.

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Posted in blogging, life, writing. Tags: being a writer, the writers life, writing. 7 Comments »

When Did the Realization “I Am a Writer” Hit?

June 5, 2009 — Pat Bertram

The title of this bloggery is the topic of a discussion on Facebook hosted by Christine Husom, a fellow Second Wind author. My response was:

The realization that I am a writer hasn’t hit, and I’m not sure it will. I’m very involved with writing — I belong to various groups; I talk a lot about writing; and even when I’m not writing creatively, I’m writing: blogs and articles, comments and emails. But I don’t define myself as a writer. When you consider all that being a published writer entails — promotion, engendering good will, etc — writing is a small very small part of the whole.

Of course, when I’m accepting the Nobel Prize for literature a dozen years from now, perhaps then the realization will hit. (You do know I’m joking, right?)

A few people responded that of course I was a writer, and they are right — I do write, therefore I am a writer. I even have two books published. But the question was: when did the realization hit? And it never did. My journey to becoming a writer was a long, smooth (or almost smooth; let’s just forget about those 200+ rejections) journey from first draft to second, from second draft to edits, from edits to proof to copy-edits, from proof to finished book. I saw so many copies of my proofs that when I received the final book, it never struck me as being different from the proofs I’d struggled over. Even the demarcation between being published and not being published was smeared. A month or so before A Spark of Heavenly Fire and More Deaths Than One showed up in print, I noticed that they were available from Second Wind Publishing as ebooks. I don’t know how long they’d been on the site, but their availability made me a published author, and I wasn’t aware of it.

I’m sure if I was making a living off my writing, I’d define myself as a writer. And if I won the Nobel Prize, I might. But still . . . I blog more than I write creatively, but I don’t call myself a blogger. I promote more than I blog, but I don’t consider myself a promoter. I sleep more than I promote, but I don’t call myself a sleeper. (Though some people might.)

But how I define myself isn’t the question. The question is: When did the realization “I am a writer” hit? And my response holds true. I never did have that realization.

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