I’ve often compared writing to having a child you cherish and protect, the way a bear defends her cub.
An art, according to Webster, is a skill doing a specified thing, improved through practice.
It’s personal, no matter the packaging, and writing, next to painting and composing, has earned her rightful place.
It’s also a skill that you love, and one that others should respect, whether your prose is their cup of tea or not. I say this to urge those to pause before criticizing…to simply move to another shelf where you’re bound to find something more to your liking.
Casual criticism hurts, like an arrow to the heart.
The written word, mine or someone else’s, has been keeping me afloat during this lonely time.
If I’m not writing, I’m reading, allowing words to comfort and console.
Ray Bradbury said, You must stay drunk on writing, so reality can’t destroy you.
How’s that for prophetic?
When I say read, I don’t mean the internet whose goal seems to be to weaken and scare. I’m talking Hemingway, Hamill, Hammett, and Twain. Christie, Austen, Dumas and McCullough who, to quote Anais Nin, wrote to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.
These feel like biblical times, as if the Book of Revelations has had a reprint.
We must remember, those who came before us, survived many moments in history that too, shook their world. Think of what life was like before Penicillin, along with Polio and Small Pox vaccines.
Teddy Roosevelt lost both his wife and mother on the same day because there were neither.
Terror must have reigned, as people went about their lives as best they could.
I think of Lincoln riding the train to Gettysburg to dedicate its new cemetery, still in mourning for his son, Willie, who died of Typhoid at age 12, writing his iconic Gettysburg address on a napkin, and how his pain must have influenced those 271 words.
Writing what we feel at this point of time, whether in a diary, a blog, or book not yet penned, will lessen the fear…to put it all down, shaking out your heart onto the page so it stays open, when it so wants to slam shut.
There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you…Maya Angelou.
So, let us sharpen our pencils. 
SB
Susannah, it’s so easy to find fault with any accomplishment one has completed. And writing is certainly an accomplishment. I’ve always thought that those who offer unasked for criticism are secretly jealous of the work for a wide range of reasons.
I’ve been doing a lot of reading. My house is looking in tip top shape. I sanded a fireplace mantle and surround that a friend hand carved over twenty years ago and will begin re-staining it today.
I enjoy your writing and will join the other fans surrounding your wagon to ward off any naysayers.
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I was really more, lauding the craft than mewling. Sorry it reads that way. My respect for the written word is vast. I never claim to be Virginia Woolf, but have come to respect my own efforts. One thing I know, those with no art of their own, won’t support yours. It’s a shame really, since it’s such an easy fix. Find something that moves you, then go from there. The fireplace sounds beautiful. Thanks, as always. 🙂
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If not Virginia Woolf, maybe Susannah Fox or Shepherd!
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That made me laugh, not so easy these days. 🙂
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I want to add that I’m always flattered, you being a teacher, that you read my essays. I feel really good about that. 🙂
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My pleasure!
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What a beautiful and true blog post! I’ve recently been trying to get back into writing in my leisure time more (rather than just writing essays for uni) and your text has just motivated me so much! Thanks for sharing 🙂
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You’re very welcome, thanks for writing.
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Anyone who discovers writing finds a whole new world opening for them. I hope a lot of people take the time now to find their inner scribes.
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Beautifully said. 🙂
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Beautifully said, Susannah. Writing is a very personal thing. And yes, it is an art that we work at to improve and no, we cannot expect everyone to like our style or what we write and to criticize for the sake of it is just a lack of manners (and probably jealousy, too). So many genres out there, one is bound to find something that is one’s cup of tea.
Just so happens you happen to be one of mine, so keep on penning your thoughts!
Have a fabulous Monday. Hope it’s nicer than here where it is raining cats and dogs with a threat of thunderstorms. Which I love except I need to go “do the lines” and grocery shop. How badly do I really need eggs?
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Pouring since early this morning. Went for a run and then, drip-dried. I don’t know how I’d be getting through this surreal period if not for the written word. I’d be lost. Thanks.
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Ugh. On the bright side, it will be warm(ish) later – 59, they’re calling for. I’m not a runner and wet dog is not pleasant so… Maybe I’ll just stay inside and write.
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Good idea !
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🙂
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“to put it all down, shaking out your heart onto the page so it stays open when it so wants to slam shut.” A beautiful line, Susannah. I think it describes the motivation for doing this writing thing every day. You also said it chases fear which I very much believe as well. To be able to write and read is a blessing that I never take for granted. An excellent essay. Thank you.
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I know you feel that way, being as prolific as you are. I too will never take it for granted. Thanks.
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😁
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This time feels downright suffocating. It’s weird, because sleeping offers no respite and the waking hours feel like a dream.
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I know. The days bleed into one another.
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Do they ever.
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I know. it’s Monday, or is it Wednesday?
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Can we start merging days? And does it matter if we do?
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Stay tuned. God only knows what’s in the on deck circle.
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I can hear Bob Sheppard’s legendary voice booming over the PA system at Yankee Stadium now.
“Now batting . . . .”
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That made me laugh.
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I’m glad. 🙂
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Not easy to do, to make me laugh as of late.
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It’s not easy to feel at ease inside these days, SB.
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I know that. My Pollyanna tries but it’s been daunting.
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I like the statement posted…shaking out your heart…that’s the way I write my blog…named it Balanced Heart. I hold nothing back – transparency is in my keys! Your readers write beautiful comments; you respond beautifully. Words? Oh how I love words…like a painter’s palette. .My happiest moments are when I’m writing. So, let’s raise a glass of water to all those who live and love, writing! Let it pour forever! Have a good week filled with blessings from a most loving God.
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Thank you Vasca.
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Writing has many purposes … And maintaining sanity during times like this is one of them. There is also the reading side. As I’ve said before, I enjoy your writing. Stay safe.
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You too. I’m here listening to the Governor’s daily press conference. It’s an iota better but far from over. I’m grateful for books and the beckoning of the page. Thanks Frank. I always appreciate hearing from you.
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There are others deserving, but a tip of the cap to our governors.
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Yes sirree. Talk about having much on your plate.
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No doubt … and also probably more than we realize. My gov took the weekend off away from the podium … but I’m sure he was staying informed. PS: Send me an email as I misplaced yours.
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Been listening every day, and give Cuomo credit. He’s trying to comfort realistically. Not an easy feat. I don’t know what happens now. It’s so day to day.
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My state now has an interesting development. Republicans control the state legislature – and there is a good number of Trumpians present who just started pressuring the Republican governor about opening ASAP. Several criticizing the Heath Director, too. Gov DeWine has been very nonpartisan during this crisis – so it will be interesting to see the direction he takes …. Good morning.
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Well, as much as one wants life to resume, God forbid it erupted all over again, these 3 weeks of sheltering for nothing. I was just at the market in my mask and it’s left me cranky. Need to de-crank.
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Hope your decranking has gone well. Keep smiling.
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It’s challenging around here Frank. The Upper East Side of New York, needs a good smack.
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I find this advice to be an inspiration for folks like me with a thin skin. People can be harsh in ways they do not know. LETS all enjoy freedom in writing.
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Hear Hear. Artists are sensitive. If we weren’t, where would that poem, or melody or essay come from. Our hearts run deep. The fish are jumpin.
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We pour our hearts out in words, so it’s no wonder we are sensitive to criticism. You wrote it beautifully.
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If we weren’t sensitive, we wouldn’t be able to express ourselves. Shutdown souls who may bleed less, miss more. sigh
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Shutdown souls! That sounds stark!
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What’s the opposite of writing so deeply, it goes right down to your socks?
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Hose fault is that?
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You’re killing me.
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No, it’s the GARTER snake that is killing you. Wait, it isn’t poisonous.
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Don’t be an asp.
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Beautiful thoughts. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have writing as a way to express myself.
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Beautifully said David. 🙂
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Wisdom at its finest
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