I was once friends with a sweetie-actor called Evan Klisser. This was many years ago, when I just moved to Johannesburg and was still figuring out how to get into the film industry. Evan referred me to my first ever crew agent. Now that I think about it, he may have a helluva lot to answer for.
But I guess I did really dream of being a film director back then. Considering that at the time I also wanted to have many (5-6) children with a man who adored me and whom I regarded as my absolute equal, I can be only grateful that a woman is allowed to change her mind about anything whenever she pleases. Although on that last one it was not so much a case of changing my mind. It simply turned out to be yet another example of how Theory and Practice, like Mars and Venus, are usually different planets.
The reason I am thinking about Evan today is he had a passion for writing, and was the first person who told me that “a writer must write every day.” Which is why I am here, I think. To write every day.
The problem with “writing every day” is that one has to suck both witticisms and wisdom of quality out of one’s goddamn finger, and express these in original English. On a daily basis, it becomes an extremely laborious process. Sometimes one just does not feel witty or wise. And NOBODY likes a moaner. So there I would be, in my best Polly-Anna, trying to whip up something entertaining for the netball team who reads my blog. And myself, of course. One could argue that all jobs have a slog-element to them. There are very few professions that do not require some paperwork, so to speak.
I look at other blogs, and W&W seem to just flow freely from the fingers of folk. (I think I may have mentioned that I really enjoy to alliterate with ‘f’.) They just bloody put it out there, and that is to be admired. How do they do it?
Take John Dovey for example, publishing not one, but two novels, AT THE SAME TIME, chapter by chapter, on the big writing tablet in the sky. And if I may say so, I think he is a better writer than Louis L’Amour. My mother left “Fair Blows the Wind” here last time she stayed, and I took a real stab at it.
Or that Kathy Lette woman. I did a lot of holiday reading in December at a house by the sea that had a couple of her books, and she keeps on writing the SAME novel OVER and OVER again! I was gob-smacked. How many weeks have to lapse between titles for her editor or publisher not to notice that she repeats herself almost verbatim? Astonishing. Someone once said it takes as much time to write a good novel as it takes to write a bad one, but I think they were talking shit.
Anyway. I am toying with the idea of writing an on-line novel myself. I already have a title and a story. Problem is, that there is going to be so much explicit sex in it that I would have to invent a nom de plume UNDER my existing nom de plume. But that is another story. Or maybe not. I wonder why I find it difficult to express myself in my own name.
I have had, on more than one occasion, the advice that one should write two pages a day. This would help you to find yourself/change your life/help you make sense of the world. And at the same time, one will be practicing both one’s spelling and turn of phrase.
For these reasons alone, I guess the daily grind should be worth one’s while. I am going to try and get it out of the way, first thing in the morning. Like the salute to the sun which I regularly fail to do. Let’s see. Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life.
Evan is no longer an actor, but finished his psychology degree, started to practice and founded the EQ institute in 2002. I wonder if he still writes stuff other than reports, articles and training courses.