tina louise

I think I finally understand the title of this post. I have spent a long time trying to be a writer, or at least saying I was; but never before now have I felt like one. I think it is like driving. For an eternity I took my lessons, always feeling like a fraud on the road; I wasn’t a driver, who was the mad fool that allowed me out here on the road with real people?

The ‘mad fool’ was my pale and pasty driving instructor (come to think of it, he seemed more rotund, pink and jolly when we first met?). John thrust me out into four lanes of traffic shortly after introducing me to the accelerator. Too late he realised the breaks would have made a better first choice. As I hurled across the lanes blindly, (probably as my eyes were closed in sheer panic) it dawned on John that I really had never driven before and yes, I knew that was bizarre at 32 years of age.

He persevered and grew thinner as the weeks passed. I think he saw me as some perverse challenge; he was feverishly determined to turn me into a driver or die trying. On many occasions the latter was as close to being the outcome as we were to going off the bridge. John had foolishly said “turn left”…without adding the all important “at the end of the bridge”…I was terribly obedient and hadn’t thought to doubt my mentor, my teacher; and assumed that if he said “turn left”….there would be a left to turn into Ah, driving lessons; never dull.

He said my problem was that I kept trying to be a driver when I should just accept it and be a driver. He said another of my problems (adding that the rest were too numerous to mention on a one hour lesson and didn’t necessarily relate to driving) was that I ‘thought too much’. Now I thought that thinking was a good thing; but quickly stopped thinking at all before John noticed and told me off some more.

“I think it’s important to think when driving…to avoid accidents and stuff?” I questioned.

“Can’t you just drive instead?” he hoped.

“But what about the small dogs, hidden under cars, that might leap out unexpectedly? What about the elderly lady who in sneezing, loses the grip of her small grandchild, who then throws himself into my path? What about the newspaper vendor who…..ah, I see what you mean!” a small light flickered and I sensed the dawning of his point.

So I hummed or chatted or finger tapped my way through the next few lessons and grew in confidence. Wow! What a revelation. Perhaps I would apply this to the rest of my life with equal success. Whenever life posed problems, I would simply hum. I expect a few world leaders would pay well for this information. John developed an odd twitch in his left eye and I worried for him as I hummed tunefully, drumming the beat on the steering wheel and tried to jolly him along.

The time came, the day of the test and John, now emaciated and grey, clumped his walking stick (why hadn’t I noticed that before?) through the doors of the test centre. His frail smile lit up his little face as I told him I had done it, I had passed. The relief and joy overtook poor John who has since retired. Ahh, bless.

So the moral of the story is…to stop thinking, just hum and let the writing happen.

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Namaste

AlpineFX

The visuals that came about in my head while reading that reminds me of the times of my driving instructor. I like your explanation on being a writer, it really opened my eyes. It's very nice. Thanks for sharing that and taking the time to write it for all to see.

Tom.

Csira

Yeah, your instructor was right. Just drive. I avoid "serious thinking" whenever I drive. I just do it. So, in the same way, just write. Practice makes..er, well since there is no such thing as "perfect"...but practice instills confidence and strengthens your skills. So, stop trying to be a writer and write! Do something to make yourself a writer. =)

~Csira

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bobgelinas

Tina Louise (Ginger?),

Your recommendation is apt for those born with the gift of storytelling, but it misses one key ingredient when addressed at the general public as a whole. That is, it is a common fallacy that anyone who merely applies themselves enough can master the art of writing. Unfortunately, like all forms of artistic expression (music, painting, sculpture, dance, acting, writing, etc.) there's the issue of "talent" to consider.

For example, some people, when attempting to sing, sound like a cat being strangled, and no amount of positive attitude, training, self-help tapes, and such will change that fact. If someone don't have the talent to sing, while they may participate in the activity (do the discomfort of everyone within earshot) it is self-delusion for that person to consider themselves "a singer" in the context of competence and mastery.

I've said this many times, but just because someone is an avid reader, doesn't de facto qualify them as a talented writer. That's analagous to saying that if you own a radio, then you're also a gifted musician. It just doesn't work that way. Talent isn't a function of "deciding" to have it. You either do or you don't. If you do, it can be developed and perfected; but if you don't you're kidding yourself. There is no universal "entitlement" for anyone who wants to be a writer to become one, merely by desire alone. And to assume otherwise is to insult and demean all the gifted writers out there who graciously share their talent in the expression of their stories.

So the real question of comtemplating "Am I a writer?" is really, "Do I have the talent of storytelling?" If you do, it will show. And the next question then becomes, "If I do have the talent, how am I going to apply it?"

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Bob Gelinas
publisher@archebooks.com
www.archebooks.com

tina louise

Thank you so much for taking the time to read and comment, I really appreciate it and feel more than welcome. Oh and I really am named Tina Louise, don't think Gilligan's Island played a part though!

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Namaste