Every writer on the face of the earth – or at least the only ones who are any good at all – are convinced at some point that what they have written is crap. Absolute garbage. Bosh and nonsense. However you want to put it, you reread what you’ve written and become convinced that the phrasing is wooden, the pace is all wrong, the dialogue stilted… yeah, yeah, I know.
We’ve all been there, trust me.
Agatha Christie, in her autobiography says, about writing a novel: Continue reading
I am in a reading mood lately, but nothing fictional completely appealed to me, so I am rereading Agatha Christie’s autobiography. It’s an engrossing look into an author’s mind from her very first memories to the age of about 75. As I read I keep marking pages, because her comments are so fascinating in light of my own progress in becoming a writer. Also, a lot of her entries are fascinating just as a glimpse into an earlier age, before cars, before almost anything that we consider ‘modern’ or even ‘necessary’.
So I thought I would share some of the most interesting passages as I go along. First up is the quality of memory, and the things from childhood that stay with us. Continue reading