Responses to "Bird by Bird" by Anne Lamott

“Plot” pp. 54-63

          “Fix instead on who your people are and how they feel toward one another, what they say, how they smell, whom they fear. Let your human beings follow the music they hear, and let it take them where it will” (61-21).

          I really like the advice Anne gives in this chapter of not putting the pressure on yourself as a writer of planning out the story’s climax. Instead, focus should be put on character development and allowing the plot to grow with the characters. It seems to me this process would result in much more sincere and believable writing. The psychologies of the characters should be developed and voice given to them so that they might tell the writer where the plot is going. The idea that the characters will lead the way is very interesting and would certainly add a whole other dimension to one’s writing.

“Someone to Read Your Drafts” pp. 162-171

            “I don’t think you have time to waste not writing because you are afraid you won’t be good enough at it, and I don’t think you have time to waste on someone who does no respond to you with kindness and respect” (170).

            I tell myself something similar to this when I find myself discouraged in my writing.  I know that I do not have time to waste because everything I am experiencing now in life, including my insights, feelings, what I see every day, how I feel about myself, is all singular and resonates with meaning all its own that one day might be changed into something completely different. I know that it is crucial for me to catch in my writing what is going on today because that in part reflects my current self. Wasting time by not writing is only doing a disservice to myself by not recording and exploring the present day and my present self.  

“Writing Groups” pp. 151-161

          “Writers tend to be so paranoid about talking about their work because no one, including us, really understands how it works” (157).

            I certainly get nervous when others read my writing, whether it is a work in progress or a supposedly finished product. The reading of my finished product probably makes me the most apprehensive and uncomfortable because I can feel myself already getting defensive and insecure at the same time. While I am thinking up a solid argument for some element or aspect I think the person might question, I also am thinking that I probably messed up and will have to reconstruct an entire part of the work. Writing is so personal, and explaining certain things might require divulging something right from your heart like a painful childhood memory connected to the writing. Since I am so sensitive about my writing, I have a very select few people who know me very well that critique my work.

“Calling Around” pp. 145-150

            “There are an enormous number of people out there with invaluable information to share with you, and all you have to do is pick up the phone” (145).

            Anne emphasizes in this chapter as she does in others the importance of connecting with others in the writing process. In the research component, talking with others who have particular knowledge that you do not concerning a subject you are writing about is absolutely crucial. In the process of communicating with others, not only can answers sought after be found, but other things might come up that never might have appeared without the catalyst of another person. Anne also makes the point that the nature of the writer’s career demands a lot of alone time and that this type of socializing can be a necessary and beneficial break.

“Index Cards pp. 133-144

            “That is one of the worst feelings I can think of, to have had a wonderful moment or insight or vision or phrase, to know you had it, and then to lose it” (136).

            I experience the frustration all the time of having a random cool thought, connection, or idea for a story that I completely lose when something else catches my attention, like some girl's shoes I really like. Back in high school I started the habit of writing down ideas in the margins of my paper when I was in class. Later on when I had some time I would go back and read them and write some of them down on one piece of paper. I try to write things down as quickly as I can when I have an idea, but it is inevitable that a lot of things are forgotten. If I happen to be with a friend and I am unable to scribble my thought down, I ask if they would help remind me of the idea later. Nothing is more frustrating than knowing you forgot something potentially interesting and worth writing about.

“Radio Station KFKD” pp. 116-121

            “Rituals are a good signal to your unconscious that it is time to kick in” (117).

            I am intrigued by the idea of consistency and ritual helping the writing process in a mental and even biological way. My mind is always racing around all over the place, and at times it is hard for me to sit still long enough to listen to myself think. Anne discusses later on how a writer has to get out of their own way before they can get anything done. The idea of sitting at a desk for a certain amount of time at the same time every day to write seems so simple and brilliant. I also like the breathing exercises Anne discusses. I think everyone has to come up with their own calming exercises to achieve the right mental state for writing, but sitting down at the desk and not getting up five minutes later is certainly a crucial component.

“Broccoli” pp. 110-115

            “Some of us tend to think that what we do and say and decide and write are cosmically important things. But they’re not. If you don’t know which way to go, keep it simple. Listen to your broccoli” (115).  

            I really enjoyed this chapter and love the metaphor of broccoli for intuition. I have been trying to think of my own metaphor, but I haven’t decided on one yet. I like Anne’s sentiment here that in making choices, such as in our writing, we should listen to our intuition and not let universal pressures overwhelm us. At times I have trouble writing because I am afraid that it will turn out badly or I will make a fatal error in the plot that just makes the whole thing stupid; but as Anne says, what we do and say and write are not “cosmically important” and mistakes are going to me made. The best thing we can do is try to listen to the voice inside of us in order to limit the mistakes that we make due to external pressures and influences.

 “Set Design” pp. 74-79

            “And in the years since, I have asked all sorts of people to help me design sets” (79).

 In this chapter, Anne discusses how she researches certain topics she wants to write that she is not personally familiar with, like skillful gardening and old gentry houses. It is really interesting to think about all of the different levels of research that are involved in creative writing that readers do not even realize. I really like Anne’s emphasis on getting up and going places to find out information and talking with total strangers in order to immerse herself in an unfamiliar topic and make it familiar, or at least enough to pass it off as convincing. This chapter connects well with Burroway’s chapter on development and revision in which she emphasizes the importance of immersing oneself into the research and experiencing it with open eyes and an open heart. 

                                                                                                                                                                             “Perfectionism” pp. 28-32 

 “What people somehow (inadvertently, I’m sure) forgot to mention when we were children was that we need to make messes in order to find out who we are and why we are here—and, by extension, what we’re supposed to be writing” (32).

            My parents did not forget to mention to me that I didn’t have to be perfect—they stressed it to me because I have always been so anxious about making mistakes. My teachers even mentioned it to me. I have been encouraged all my life to make big, creative, carefree messes, and I have always wanted to, especially with art and creative writing. In order for me to have the most meaningful and cathartic experiences in these fields, I have to learn how to let myself make a mess because, just as Lamott says, “[…] messes are the artist’s true friend” (32). Also, as Lamott says, no one will see our first drafts. That certainly is a soothing reminder. However, I still have some trouble looking at the mess with my own eyes. I know that I just need to get over myself because if I ever want to write something that actually reflects my voice and heart, I am going to have to let everything out in order to pull something good out of the mess. This entire chapter about perfectionism was very helpful and caused me to reflect on a lot of personal issues with myself and my writing.  

“Shitty First Drafts” pp. 21-27

           “The first draft is the child’s draft, where you let it all pour out and then let it romp all over the place, knowing that no one is going to see it and that you can shape it later” (22).

            When I read this line, I picture a succession of dancing images streaming from Anne Lamott’s mind as she busily scribbles down unimpeded descriptions of whatever comes bopping out onto her paper. This idea really appeals to me because I am so frustrated with that ulcerous monster of perfectionism that so hinders my writing. Lamott says that “the first draft is the child’s draft.” I interpret this idea as meaning that we should allow our thoughts from way back in our subconscious to flow freely forth unto paper with no pretense or judgment and with the openness of mind and spirit that so often is abandoned in childhood. I love her imagery of the rough draft “romping” all over the place--it assures me that is okay to have big, fat, messy rough drafts with jam streaked across them (not raspberry, though—Lamott would freak) and that the prettier drafts with come later.   That first draft will be wild and open and coming from a bunch of different worlds at once, which is how it is supposed to be.

 “Short Assignments” pp.16-20

           “It reminds me that all I have to do is to write down as much as I can see through a one-inch picture frame” (17).

            Anne Lamott gives quite helpful and practical advice in this chapter about relieving the pressure that comes with being a writer. She advises that in moments of frustration or of being overwhelmed, a writer should begin again with a more achievable, less intimidating task in mind. I really like how Lamott gives examples of monologue that goes through her own mind when she becomes frustrated with her writing and then how she soothes and coaches herself when she decides to write about one specific part or one particular person. I certainly have gotten anxious and even mad with my writing before, especially if I have a a myriad of ideas rushing through my head that I wish would just pop out of my head at once and arrange themselves merrily on my paper. A jumble of abstract ideas can really be daunting and blur your vision; this “one-inch frame” metaphor could have a magnifying glass--effect by quickly bringing something specific into focus that might otherwise have been trampled by other ideas. By zoning into a smaller, distinct area, organization and clarity would certainly result.

          “When we have gone in and looked around for a long while, just breathing and finally taking it in—then we will be able to speak in our own voice and to stay in the present moment” (201).

           I really appreciate Lamott’s sentiment here; I find it to be quite refreshing and beautiful. The idea really appeals to me of actually sitting down and openly reflecting on particular things while not necessarily having to zealously ruminate over them.  I have had an aversion to pondering over certain subjects that are uncomfortable or irrationally forbidden in some way; in truth, they might be the essential components for creative inspiration and discovery. Not only could inspiration come out of this type of reflection, but also indispensable insights into one's self.

 “Looking Around” pp.97-102

         “This is our goal as writers, I think; to help others have this sense of—please forgive me—wonder, of seeing things anew, things that can catch us off guard, that can break in on our small, bordered worlds” (100). 

           I really like this line because the experience of being caught “off guard” with a sense of “wonder” is exactly what happens for me when I read my favorite types of literature, such as British children’s literature and Modern American poetry. By reading literature that interests me and resonates so profoundly with me, I have strong urges to write on my own in the hopes of having some similar effect on other people. Lamott explains very clearly that we must be fully in touch with this sense of awe of the world ourselves before anything else.

“Dialogue” pp. 64-73

          “Each one must sound different from the others. And they should not all sound like you; each one must have a self” (66).

            When reading Lamott’s descriptions of how characters should be borne from the writer’s imagination, I thought about Keats’s theory of negative capability in which "man is capable of being in uncertainties, Mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason.” Wrapped up in this theory is the ability of the writer to negate his own personality in his writing and totally take on the character, becoming sort of a channeler of emotions and thought, which is what Shakespeare was such a master of. Lamott does a wonderful job of explaining the creative processes of character development and dialogue in this chapter.

 “Getting Started” pp. 3-15

         “This is how you train your unconscious to kick in for you creatively" (6).

          Lamott’s entire theory behind creative writing and its universal accessibility is shown in many lines such as this one. I really appreciate her optimism and confidence that anyone can write if they discipline themselves in such a way as to acquire inspiration. Some people may feel very discouraged if brilliant thoughts do not spontaneously materialize for them in the way they might imagine it occurs for their favorite writers. She makes it clear that if you want to write, you can. Lamott’s major theme of tapping into creativity through self-disciple and consistent effort is a very motivating one.

"School Lunches" pp. 33-38

        “But in important ways they are different, too, and this is even more interesting, for the obvious reason that when we study the differences, we see in bolder relief what we have in common" (33-34).

          This statement, in reference to the variances of school lunches across the U. S., is actually a profound message concerning the wealth we can learn about ourselves and humanity in the processes of observation and writing. I think that this sentence is reflective of an essential goal in all writing—to learn more about ourselves and our connections with others. Through observation of how we differ from one another, we can find in contrast to these dissimilarities common threads that unite us and make us who we are as people. This theme of hidden likenesses between people runs through some of her other chapters, and I find it to be quite an interesting and essential one.

Introduction pp. xi-xxxi                                                                                                                                    

          "Other days, though, my writing is like a person to me--the person who, after all these years, still makes sense to me" (xxvi). 

            This is one line from Anne Lamott's introduction to Bird by Bird that I find to be particularly powerful; it follows her discussion concerning the darker, painful side of writing. I think this comparison is simply beautiful. I immediately resonated with this sentiment as it reflects to me the sort of complicated yet intimate relationship I have with writing. Anne associates writing with a person as if it a living, breathing entity with emotion and needs of its own. I have always loved to write, yet hesitation and the fear of failing hold me back at times. That fear, however, does not silence the voice of communication between myself and my writing.  Although I hate the risk and probablity of making mistakes and writing something horrible, I write anyway because I always end up finding comfort and familiarity in the words. I really appreciate Anne's emphasis on disregarding the fear of failure and pushing through because the experience of writing is worth all the anxiety and frustration in the end. Anne makes it clear that, like the communcation between two people, the connection between writer and their work will become stronger and more meaningful with constant effort and care.