Finding Form.

I think I’m finding form and I’m pretty excited about it. Since I decided to create a book out of refined and expanded blog postings I’ve been wrestling with the self-indulgence of it. Who the hell cares what I have to say? It’s not like I’ve had an exceptional life, or done anything great, or have anything to teach anyone… You know the internal monologue. We all do.

Fortunately I externalize most of my internal dialogue because I can’t help it, and usually when I do that I get an answer of one sort or another. In this case, it was in a phone conversation with my friend Anna who suggested that I pick up a copy of the anthology The Art of the Personal Essay by Phillip Lopate, and read the introductory essay in particular. And she was right. I received a copy in the mail last night and dove into Lopate’s discourse on the history, context and characteristics of the personal essay – and I’m inspired to say the least. Turns out that vulnerable, self-critical, undisciplined writers like myself make the best personal essayists. Yay me and all my flailing insecurities (not to mention the need to share them with everyone I come into contact with).

I never realized that the personal essay was considered a legitimate form until now which is really because I’ve never thought about it all that much, having left literary theory far behind in college… So it’s nice to have an anthology of grounded essay tradition to peruse through and reflect on. Something to take with me to the Sunshine Coast over the long weekend and sit on the rocky beaches reading (if it doesn’t rain that is). Thanks for the recommendation Anna!

And so I’m starting. I’m starting to piece it together in my head and pretty soon I’m going to find the discpline to sit myself down at least an hour every evening to put it together on paper. Sexual distractions are gone. Serious face is on. And the goal more than anything is to prove that I can. To back up the claim that I am a writer. For real. It’s what I’ve always wanted to be.