How do writers have so much to say every time! The perspective they give to a situation is so different from what we see. It has happened so many times that when we read a piece written by somebody, it is so amazing to see how they have put emotions into words.
They might seem self-centered and may not be good at socializing, but he has a whole world inside them which makes him content. Every writer is distinct, every writer has his own world and everything is different for him.
Writing is a solitary art. Sometimes writers who collaborate create their pieces separately and join them together later. A writer needs to enjoy solitude for creation to stay happy.
Inside them are memories, emotions and an imagination that runs deep. We go there to tap into the experiences that make their writing resonate. Sometimes what emerges may be violent or horrific, resonant in truth and raw in emotion. They write with the knowledge that most people feel these things but they don’t admit to themselves that they exist. They have the ability and the strength to write those words without apology.
Virginia Woolf famously argued that every writer needed a space in which to think freely, and we subsequently tend to assign a particular romance to her particular writing space. But those who knew Woolf intimately got to see the reality. Her husband Leonard described “old nibs, bits of string, used matches, rusty paperclips, crumpled envelopes, broken cigarette holders, etc,” while Vita Sackville-West recalled the “incredible muddle of objects” in Woolf’s writing room.
In an interview with George Plimpton, Ernest Hemingway revealed his daily routine,
‘When I am working on a book or a story I write every morning as soon after first light as possible. There is no one to disturb you and it is cool or cold and you come to your work and warm as you write. You read what you have written and, as you always stop when you know what is going to happen next, you go on from there.
You write until you come to a place where you still have your juice and know what will happen next and you stop and try to live through until the next day when you hit it again. You have started at six in the morning, say, and may go on until noon or be through before that.’
Written by Ashna Garg
Ashna grew up in a jazzy town (where she felt she can never fit in), did graduation in economics (where she didn’t fit either) and she writes (where she finally started to feel like she fits in)
Writing is a solitary art. Sometimes writers who collaborate create their pieces separately and join them together later. A writer needs to enjoy solitude for creation to stay happy.
Inside them are memories, emotions and an imagination that runs deep. We go there to tap into the experiences that make their writing resonate. Sometimes what emerges may be violent or horrific, resonant in truth and raw in emotion. They write with the knowledge that most people feel these things but they don’t admit to themselves that they exist. They have the ability and the strength to write those words without apology.
Virginia Woolf famously argued that every writer needed a space in which to think freely, and we subsequently tend to assign a particular romance to her particular writing space. But those who knew Woolf intimately got to see the reality. Her husband Leonard described “old nibs, bits of string, used matches, rusty paperclips, crumpled envelopes, broken cigarette holders, etc,” while Vita Sackville-West recalled the “incredible muddle of objects” in Woolf’s writing room.
In an interview with George Plimpton, Ernest Hemingway revealed his daily routine,
‘When I am working on a book or a story I write every morning as soon after first light as possible. There is no one to disturb you and it is cool or cold and you come to your work and warm as you write. You read what you have written and, as you always stop when you know what is going to happen next, you go on from there.
You write until you come to a place where you still have your juice and know what will happen next and you stop and try to live through until the next day when you hit it again. You have started at six in the morning, say, and may go on until noon or be through before that.’
We need to cement a little every day, rather than add new fertilizers.
Written by Ashna Garg
Ashna grew up in a jazzy town (where she felt she can never fit in), did graduation in economics (where she didn’t fit either) and she writes (where she finally started to feel like she fits in)