Time magazine recently ran a one page interview with prolific writer John Grisham. There was a question about his churning out of approximately one whodunit per year ~ maybe something about the quality or perhaps a suggestion of the lack thereof with such a hurried schedule. Grisham’s response was what difference did it make, the time frame that is, since either way he would wait and write the bulk of the book in the last three weeks anyway. Now, I am sort of making some of this up since I cannot remember the article verbatim but have captured the gist of the Q & A.
I smiled when I read Grisham’s response. I like that he knows himself, knows his writing pattern, his habits. What’s more, I like it that he accepts his writing process. Maybe I wishfully read that part (the acceptance) into Grisham’s answer because that’s what I want for me. Acceptance. Not from anyone else but myself when it comes to my writing process. Acceptance of my pace and my need for percolation and marinading time.
For me, acceptance goes hand-in-hand (or is it hand-in-the-glove) with faith. I could use that hand of faith to hold with the hand of acceptance or in the glove of acceptance, whichever. Instead, too many times I whirl about in self doubt, gnashing my teeth (not really, but does grinding them at night count?), while filling my psyche with rhetorical questions that all start with why. Why don’t you just sit down and write? Why don’t you write now that you’re sitting down? Why do you do torture yourself every time you have a writing deadline? When really either way soon the answer to the question Whodunit will be, Idunit.
Really I will. Remember, junemoon, acceptance and faith. Hand in a glove or glove in a hand or gloved hand in a bare hand. Makes no difference as long as somewhere there’s a hand and a glove, together.