On Writing

This section is a collection of musings and quotations on the art and craft of writing gleaned from my journals. Some of them are not as profound as I thought they were when I wrote them, and they are certainly not entirely consistent in philosophy. I list them as I find them--in no particular order.

Writing is a lot like putting up a circus tent. No matter how well organized you are, and regardless of how many good ideas you have on your team, if you let the elephants stand on the canvas, you are in for trouble. Elephants come in many shapes and colors, but they are all enormous in size. They have names like Fear and Procrastination and Laziness and Daydreaming and Doubt, and they love to wallow on the canvas. You've got to shoo them off before you can raise the tent.
Anybody who uses the word utilize should be marched to the nearest wall, blindfolded, and shot.
There is no fat in good writing; it is all skin and muscle and bone.
I did not set out to be a scribbler of words. I came to it by default through a chronic lack of ambition. At various times in my life I aspired to an assortment of occupations, all of which proved unsatisfactory in one or more aspects--a circumstance that eventually and inevitably led to their each being rejected as unworthy of pursuit. At one time, for example, I was convinced that being a millionaire was what I would enjoy most; but once I discovered how much single-minded determination and work it involved, I let that ambition, too, go with the rest.
"I only write when the spirit moves--but it moves every day." -- William Faulkner
People ask me why I continue to write when I've had such little success at it. I continue to do it because it is the only way I can relieve the dull ache that not writing causes me.
There are no rules here other than the ones I make. I control the people, the beasts, the weather, the universe. I mediate the struggle between good and evil. I choose the winners and losers. I am god.
Journal keeping is the last bastion of absolute freedom.
Writing is an act of love. It is not a labor. If it be labor, then quit it and find something you can do for love.
To write you must not only feel, you must think. You may write with your heart to begin, but sooner or later you must get your brain involved. The heart speaks in disjointed associations and vague feelings. The brain organizes these ramblings into a coherent pattern that other minds and hearts can recognize. Without the heart's passion, writing is dry and sterile; without the brain's discipline, it is gibberish.
Nothing--other than a good, uninhibited fart--is more satisfying than a productive session of writing. It gives one a sense of accomplishment coupled with a feeling of profound relief.
The most stirring words ever written in English, are these: "From out of the West come the thundering hoofbeats of the great horse, Silver! The Lone Ranger rides again!"
When struggling to express an idea or complete a thought, be suspicious of words and phrases that sit on the front row and try to get your attention by waving their arms and whistling. These easy volunteers are almost invariably either empty and inappropriate pomposities, or they are so tired and threadbare that they make the reader groan. You have to go find the right ones. They nearly always hide quietly in the back of the room; but when you find them, they are like small firecrackers that add pop to your writing.