across the way by devi laskar

I read a lovely opinion piece by Silas House in the New York Times online where he discusses the definition of what it means to be a writer every day while also being a spouse, an employee, a parent, and a caregiver. I would add to that list chauffeur and maid and gardener and cook and personal shopper, not to even mention keeper of the calendar which includes in-laws’ birthdays and anniversaries, and important moments that must be attended to but are in conflict with other important moments.

“There is no way to learn how to do this except by simply doing it. We must use every moment we can to think about the piece of writing at hand, to see the world through the point of view of our characters, to learn everything we can that serves the writing. We must notice details around us, while also blocking diversions and keeping our thought processes focused on our current poem, essay or book,” he writes in his essay, The Art of Being Still.

Mr. House confesses that he doesn’t write every day, that some days he writes for less than half an hour, and other days he writes from breakfast until dinner, without a break. Some months he doesn’t write at all. That news frightened the Hell right out of me, because I don’t think that I would be able to restart writing after a prolonged vacation….

“One night, however, I was asked that question and the right answer just popped out, unknown to me before it found solidity on the air: “I write every waking minute,” I said. I meant, of course, that I am always writing in my head.”

And here’s where I entered Mr. House’s world. I too think about writing, all of the time, especially when I’m doing all of the tasks that together make up all the titles that I am: mom, wife, chauffeur, personal assistant, driver, chef, child’s sports team manager. I’m always have an eye roving and an ear listening. I people watch and eavesdrop with stunning precision. Now, I just need to figure out how to get it on to the page, with consistency. You know, like every day, or at least, every weekday, when in theory, my kids are at school and I have loads of time to watch TV and eat candy and make a serious indentation on my couch with my derriere….

Mr. House had the great fortune of meeting the novelist and poet James Still who gave him the sage advice to “discover something new every day.” And Mr. House is using that advice to try to work every day.

Well, I’m going to jump on that advice bandwagon, so to speak, and tell you what my late great poetry teacher Lucille Clifton used to say every day just before she started class: ”Let’s try to learn something.”

My lesson for today is that it’s ok to think about the writing all of the time, it’s ok to eavesdrop and people watch, and steal the words right out of the strangers’ mouths. Just be sure to run back to your car or your table and pull out that napkin or gum wrapper and write down what happened, and jot down what happens next.