The Importance of Presence for a Writer

As a writer I have been encouraged by my publishers to meet my readers online. When having an online conversation I am often talking to a small square icon or thumbnail, yet this picture is very important to me as an idea or representation of the essence of the person.

Recently I went to a writing conference and looked for all the people I had met online. One by one I managed to identify each person from their thumbnail, but unsurprisingly the real person was always radically different from the person I had constructed in my mind from the online conversation. The icon, along with the typed conversation, flattens out the persona so that it is hard to get a sense of who is actually there, behind the words. 

When confronted with a real individual though, it is easy to hear the music of the voice, see the posture, appreciate the energetic or listening quality of the personality. In these days of online relationships it is easy to forget this presence – the most important part of the person.

 

Presence implies a deeper more connected awareness of the world around us, and so the ability to be a vehicle for what needs to be done. I believe words can carry presence if the writer is aware whilst writing; and that words can carry a certain intent. After all, without the written form so few religious or spiritual ideas of the past would have survived.

Yet to look at writing only as a way to preserve ideas, i.e. the end result, is to miss the point, and to forget the importance of presence. Writing is a form like any other artistic endeavour where the process is as important as the outcome. 

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In her classic book, still in print since 1934, ‘Becoming a Writer’ Dorothea Brande says that excellent writing has ‘innocence of eye’ and ‘freshness of response’. To create these qualities we must discipline ourselves to stop ‘doing’ and spend more time ‘being.’ From stillness of mind and body united, a new perspective can arise. 

To maintain presence in writing is to cultivate space in oneself to let new ideas emerge, but more importantly it is to maintain a space for the response from the reader. After all it is not only the writer, but the reader who has to imagine the book. Skilful writing is not only about what to include, but more often about where to leave things open.

I have been a meditator all my adult life, and that is how I find presence in my life. Other people find it by walking in nature, by using mindfulness techniques, or practising yoga. Do feel free to share how you nurture this aspect of your writing.

Transparency for writers - how not to point at yourself

When writing a book, I am obsessed by the quality of my own writing. I agonize over choice of words, apposite phrases, clever ways to convey what I want to say. When a reader reads a book they don't want to see any of that - they want to hear the story. They want the author to be transparent. This is why we are urged to use the word "said" for our speech attributions - a word that is neutral, invisible. As soon as we say "retorted" or "quipped" or (heaven help us) "declaimed", then we are pointing at ourselves with the "look at me I'm a writer" finger. The more the writer gets in the way of the story, the less involved in the reality of the story the reader will be.

Likewise, too many adverbs or exclamation marks make the writer suddenly appear at the reader's shoulder as convincer -
e.g  "Shut up!" he said crossly.
instead of, "Shut up," he said.
The writer is trying to force the reader to understand what they have probably already understood - thus making another unwanted appearance.

Too many similes or metaphors also point to our own cleverness, and can bring the reader up short.
eg Writer : "The water was black as treacle."
Reader: "Black as treacle? Is treacle black? What does she mean?"
Hey presto, the writer is muscling in again.

A lot of the knack of transparency is scrupulous awareness. If you are particularly proud of a phrase, view it with suspicion! It is probably a phrase where you are showing off, and therefore putting yourself between the reader and the page. Awareness for a writer is about being able to put yourself in the reader's seat and having the courage to remove your cleverness in favour of the truth of the story.

Many writers think that if they give up pointing at themselves they will lose their own unique voice. This is not so, as your voice will be there even more strongly if you get your ego out of the way of it.

This idea applies as much to life as it does to creativity.

The best book I can recommend on awareness in general is Awareness by Anthony de Mello. Eminently sane advice without any new-age nonsense.


For looking at this topic from a writer's perspective, the writer Dorothea Brande, (whose book, "Becoming a Writer" has been a classic for the inward journey since the 1930's) has another work, "Wake up and live!" available for free as a pdf here:
http://lesecret.net/DorotheaBrande-WakeUpAndLive.pdf
Although a little dated, it has some excellent ideas about how to succeed creatively.

As some people know, I am a great promoter of meditation in all its forms - here is a nice post by the writer Orna Ross on the benefits of meditation and awareness for writers: http://janefriedman.com/2012/01/02/meditation-increases-creativity/

And on a completely different topic,  for anyone interested, my post on 17th Century Garden Design for Women  is over at the English Historical Fiction Authors site. And you can win a copy of The Lady's Slipper at Brits United. (Until 5th April)

Bringing your inner artist to heel - the long haul

Last week I read a great article in the Guardian called "unleash your inner artist" in which well-respected artists from different disciplines told the reader what inspired them. Each had ideas for setting the right conditions, and they varied from "Find a studio with more than one window" to "go on a journey with someone who is as different from you as chalk from cheese".

As a writer I have no trouble at all finding inspiration. I could start twenty books tomorrow. But the question is, could I sustain them? Never mind unleashing the inner artist, how do I bring it to heel?

For novelists, most of their work of their first draft happens in the middle of the book. For me the pattern looks a little like this:

Inspiration! (The beginning! I write feverishly.)
Hard graft,
H a r d G r a f t,
H a r d   G r a f t,
H   a  r  d    G  r  a  f  t,
H     a    r    d    G    r    a    f    t
Aha! The End is in sight.
The End - breathes a sigh of relief.

So a lot of the trick of it is about keeping inspired through the long middle. The characters or subject must have viability for the long haul, and be fascinating enough to sustain my interest over the eighteen months it takes me to research and write the book.

One of the best quotes in the Guardian article was from Guy Garvey, singer/guitarist with Elbow, who quoted in turn some advice he'd been given by songwriter Mano McLaughlin.


"The song is all, he said. Don't worry about what the music sounds like; you have a responsibility to the song. I found that really inspiring: it reminded me not to worry about whether a song sounds cool or fits with everything we've done before - but just to let the song be what it is."

When I start out I have an idea of what the book will be.As I approach the middle I realise that the book is moving away from my vision of it. I try to bring it back. It persists in going its own way. Much of the hard graft in the middle of the book is about the battle between my control of the story and my imagination which wants to take a looser journey.Somewhere near the end of the hard graft phase I realise I have to "let the song be what it is" and allow the story that wants to be told to have free rein. Just about then, I glimpse the end.

Subsequent drafts are about letting go of previous rigid ideas that I had about what my book might be, and who I might be as a writer. I have had to let go of ideas that I might be a) as brillliant and respected as Hilary Mantel b) as popular and best-selling as Dan Brown c) about to be tipped as the next TV book club read, or d) the ground-breaking quirky new voice of the 21st century.

You might have to do the same. Maybe you thought it was literary fiction, until you found you had written a fast-moving convoluted thriller with a crazed psychopath. Maybe you thought you would like to write a romance, until you found it impossible to force those love scenes and ended up with a murder instead.Maybe you became so interested in the motivations of your central couple that the plot never happened and it became a meditation instead and you found you had written a literary novella.

I write historical fiction so here are my top tips for inspiring myself in the long haul.
Surprise, surprise, they all involve leaving the computer and going out, and none of them are hard-line research. They are what I call "dabbling."

Browse your subject in a second-hand bookshop.Don't rush, allow lots of time for diversions.


Wander round a place your character might have lived.


Look up his/her name on Ancestry.com and find out what his/her namesakes did


Go horse-riding. (In my books most people travel by horse)


Go to an Antique shop, auction or museum and handle objects from the period.


Find a spot to daydream about your book and make a point of allowing time for the mind to drift.


Let the song be what it is.

Meditation and Writing

My second book is waiting for the editor's verdict and I am in the glorious research period of the next. Nothing is set in stone yet, so my mind can range free over a multitude of possibilities. It's a great excuse to curl up on the sofa with a pile of good non-fiction books, a cat (hopefully) purring on my lap and a cup of tea on the windowsill behind me.

During this phase I seem to do a lot of daydreaming and free-thinking, writing down ideas on a large spider diagram, looking for concepts or characters that seem to fit together. I use my intuition in this "fitting together."

Research I'm doing at the moment is based around Spain at the turn of the sixteenth century, as I am fairly sure some of the next book will be set there, but I also have books on Stuart Cookery, The Lives of the English Rakes and The Book of the Sword on the go, as well as a great Taschen picture book on Alchemy and Mysticism. And that is only the top of the pile. So how does all this input become output?

For me, one of the answers is meditation. I have been a meditator for more than 30 years. Those of you who are thinking I have this meditation-thing taped after all this time would be mistaken - it is still a discipline to sit, and to still the mind every day, and not to jump up going "I must get on with the writing/washing-up/filing/whatever else needs doing."

But the length of practice means I know from experience that it is the antidote to the chock-a-block mind, that it provides a creative space for the less obvious to appear. Whilst the thinking mind is working out things on the surface, the meditative mind perceives the undercurrents, the subtleties, maybe not even the things I can instantly put into words, but the sense of direction of the ideas I am working with, what I sometimes call the "true north" of where I am going and what I am doing.

Many other writers have a repetitive activity such as running or swimming that they use to quieten the mind. Others use the process of writing itself. There must be thousands of people writing the recommended "daily pages" of The Artist's Way, in order to put themselves in touch with deeper aspects of themselves. For most writers, writing itself uncovers the self, and because of this it can feel as if you are baring the soul.

I am lucky that I know a group of other women who meditate and once a month we get to each other's houses to sit in silence together and then have tea. We are of all different persuasions, christians, buddhists, quakers, atheists, not-quite-sure's, yet we find a value in this silent coming together. When we sit in silence it is as if we contact all the other silences - for silence is silence, is the same silence.

This is one of the reasons I chose to write about the Quakers, as sitting in silence is their core activity.

The picture shows some of the women's meditation group at the launch of The Lady's Slipper outside Townend. I'm the one in the middle!





For those beginning writing and interested in meditation and the process of writing I can recommend "Writing Your Way" by Manjusvara and "Writing Down the Bones" by Natalie Goldberg.  These books contain a wealth of ideas and exercises to get you started, and are a great resource for Creative Writing tutors.