The joys and sorrows of writing

Truman Capote: The archtypal writer look

I often feel the compulsive need to write (though much of the product of that compulsion remain unpublished) to channel anger, frustrations, anxieties, but very rarely I write about joy or when I am overjoyed. Joy is to be enjoyed in the moment. I take pictures instead. Writing is a therapeutic process, and the miracle of creation is when one’s thoughts take form on a blank page. But it is a miracle not without its pains. The following are some useful quotes by some great wordsmiths about the joys (and often sorrows) of writing:

The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamouring to become visible.
(Vladimir Nabakov)

To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it’s about, but the inner music the words make.
(Truman Capote)

The story I am writing exists, written in absolutely perfect fashion, some place, in the air.  All I must do is find it, and copy it.
(Jules Renard, “Diary,” February 1895)

If there’s a book you really want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.
(Toni Morrison)

If my doctor told me I had only six minutes to live, I wouldn’t brood.  I’d type a little faster.  (Isaac Asimov)

Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.
(Franz Kafka)

Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness.  One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand.
(George Orwell, “Why I Write,” 1947)

Writing is a struggle against silence.
(Carlos Fuentes)

True Ease in Writing comes from Art, not Chance,
As those move easiest who have learn’d to dance.
(Alexander Pope)

What is the writing process like for you?

One thought on “The joys and sorrows of writing

  1. I write because I have to. The story yells, growing ever louder, until it is all I can think about. If I didn’t write, I would be useless. It fills me with both a gravy since of loss as well as overwhelming joy. As the story unfolds on the pages, I grow to love every person as my own child. When I finish the story, it’s like watching those people die. Bitter Sweet.

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