I just finished reading Antonia Malchik’s A Walking Life. I took my time with this book, partly because I was traveling a lot in between reading and partly because this book is full of places where one should pause, reflect, return.
In one particular section, Malchik writes about the importance of leaving our footprints behind. She quotes author Robert Macfarlane who says, “To make an impression is also to receive one.”
Then, Malchik herself hits on something I can completely relate to:
Where our feet land leaves a story for those who can read it….
This week I met with a writing friend for lunch, and we talked about parallel experiences as writers. We each started a story years ago that was left dormant until we were ready to pick it up again, ready to finish it and send it out and share it with others.
In a few days I will also bring a summer session of Flash Nonfiction II to a close, a class where stories are thrown down on the page (or tossed up on the screen) in quick succession, some just skeletons of a story, others an essay to which the writer has returned. “This is one I wrote back in my twenties,” one writer said. And the story is still presses on her today.
What I am reminded of in all of these experiences–in walking, writing, and returning to an essay we had set aside, is that we are easily frustrated because these things take time. I have to park a mile away from work and am irritated that the walk inside will take me 10 more minutes; I write a novel only to leave it unfinished because I am not yet ready; I return to an essay time and again in hopes I might finally discover what I really want to say. In everything, purpose and ideas flitter in and out of focus. All that remains some days are quick steps from here to there, scratches of notes, puzzle pieces still in play.
But (and this isn’t a new idea), none of this energy is ever wasted.
In the early pages of Malchik’s book, she says “Walking is often described as an act of faith. . . . It is closer to an act of trust….” I say the same of writing. Faith and trust in the process is nurtured in time, in community, in willingness to return.
So we keep on keeping on, through bits and pieces, through marathon manuscripts. To that I say, Good. Because your story matters.
If you want to learn more about A Walking Life, watch for my author Q&A with Antonia Malchik soon.
If you’ve written your book and you’re ready to take the next step and send it out, Hidden Timber Books is hosting another author workshop: Nail Your Query Letter with Liz Prato, author and editor. Your query letter gets your foot in the door with publishers and agents. Join Liz online for tips & techniques Saturday, July 27th, 11am Pacific.
