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Wordless Recreation for Writers

March 8, 2010 By Sandra Heska King

“Too much reading is very bad indeed.”

Yep, you read that right.

That’s what Dorothea Brande said in her classic book, Becoming a Writer.

Say what?

She says writers tend to take too many “busmen’s holidays.” In other words, they tend to spend their “off time” doing writing-related activities (such as reading or talking shop), like a bus driver who takes a bus tour for a vacation.

And how many of us tether ourselves to computers and cell phones on “vacations,” unable to totally relax?

How many of us are addicted to multitasking?

We all seem to have a little trouble in the relaxation department or chilling in a ring of silence.

“A certain amount of shop talk is valuable; too much of it is a drain. And too much reading is very bad indeed.”

Too much reading? How can that be?

Ms. Brande says all of us, writers or not, are so used to words we can’t escape them.

And she wrote this book in 1934!

If we starve ourselves long enough in a wordless void, we’ll eventually start talking to ourselves. We’ll start feeding ourselves words.

We can test it by spending some time alone. Resist books, papers, magazines, and the telephone. Turn off the TV. Shut down the computer.

When one is “sentenced to silence,“ words and ideas clamor for attention.

If you want to stimulate yourself into writing, Ms. Brande says, amuse yourself in wordless ways.

And don’t be in a hurry to reengage.

Before long you’ll find that “words have rushed in to fill the wordless vaccum.”

She talked of one friend who used to lie out in the back garden and stare at the sky–until some family member came to join him for a chat.

“Sooner or later, he himself would begin to talk about the work he had in mind, and, to his astonishment, he discovered that the urgent desire to write the story disappeared as soon as he had got it thoroughly talked out.”

So then he disappeared to a park bench every day and stared at pigeons for two hours.

Taking two full hours every day might be too stressful for most of us, but for a least a little while every day we could pursue wordlessness.

  • Listen to a symphony orchestra or sound tracks or “spa” music.
  • Take a long walk.
  • Ride a horse or a bike.
  • Play some solitaire (or Bejeweled Blitz!)
  • Do some kind of needlework or craft.
  • Whittle.
  • Fish.
  • Watch clouds. 
  • Noodle on a harp (!) or other instrument.
  • Sort some pictures.
  • Take a long bath or shower.
  • Swim.
  • Sit on a beach or a dock.
  • Color a picture.
  • Paddle a boat.
  • Rock in a chair or seek out a swing.
  • Throw pebbles in a lake.
  • Plant some flowers, weed, mow the grass.
  • Wash windows, fold clothes, scrub floors, or paint walls. (Come do mine. I’ll be quiet.)

Rhythmic activity. Monotonous activity.

    Alone. Wordless. 

    She says books, theaters, and “talking pictures” (I suppose that means movies and TV today) should be very rarely indulged in when you have any piece of writing to finish.

    ” . . . it is to be noticed that successful writers, when talking about themselves as writers, say little about curling up in a corner with a good book. Much as they may love reading (and all authors would rather read than eat), they had all learned from long experience that it is the wordless occupation which sets their own minds busily at work.”

    To put it another way, we need to spend more time pursuing wordlessness so words can pursue us! 

    “Too much reading is very bad indeed.”

    How are you at spending “quiet time.?” 
    What wordless recreation stimulates words and ideas for you?

    Copyright © 2010 by Sandra Heska King

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    Filed Under: stories and reflections, writing

    Comments

    1. arlee bird says

      March 8, 2010 at 2:19 pm

      Many years ago, when I still lived with my parents, I used to find mowing their huge lawn with a push mower very inspirational to my writing. Also, though I rarely do it like I used to since I now live in a very urban area, long hikes in natural settings or long drives can be nice. You've gotten me to thinking that I need to breakaway from my desk and do something else for a while– bye.
      Lee

    2. Charmaine Clancy says

      March 8, 2010 at 5:15 pm

      I have activities where I turn off the technology, when I go on drives I'll often turn the radio off too, just for the quiet, I also like to work in my vegi patch… but… then five minutes into the silence I'm mentally going over my book, chapters, characters and so I have words spinning in my head. It's hard to completely escape words.

    3. Sandra Heska King says

      March 8, 2010 at 6:11 pm

      @Lee: I hope you enjoyed your break! Thanks for coming by.

      @Charmaine: Sounds like the silence does its job. At least you hear your own words! Sometimes I wish the spin would stop for a minute and just let me rest! 🙂 So glad you stopped in.

    4. nAncY says

      March 9, 2010 at 9:33 pm

      ahhh, for a warm rainless day, for now i would like to lay in the yard and look at the sky.

    5. Sandra Heska King says

      March 9, 2010 at 10:18 pm

      Sounds heavenly. But there's also something about roaring thunder and crackling lightning and the buckets of rain and billowing clouds.

      Thansk for visiting!

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    “Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous to “Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous to be understood. . . Let me keep company always with those who say “Look!” and laugh in astonishment and bow their heads.” ~ Mary Oliver in “Mysteries, Yes”
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No way could anyone ever convince me that this world in all its beauty and creativity and mysteries is here by accident.
    Food truck night with a newcomer—@crepstick. So Food truck night with a newcomer—@crepstick. So yummy! I hope they come back.  But maybe not too often or I’ll have to do double time on the exercise.
    “Embrace this day knowing and showing the world “Embrace this day knowing and showing the world that your God is more than enough for you.”
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@tamiheim @tonibirdsong 
In @stickyJesus: How to Live Out Your Faith Online
    My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the str My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion.” Psalm 73:26 (ESV)
🌿
I’d almost forgotten what quiet mornings on the patio were like. (Quiet except for the birds and the sound of the neighbor’s AC.)
    So yesterday I saw my cardiologist. It was the fir So yesterday I saw my cardiologist. It was the first time he wanted to see me in 6 months instead of a year. He said my aortic stenosis had gotten worse. Like on the cusp of moderate to severe. 😬

So the first thing he asks me is, "How's you daughter?" Wait. Isn't this supposed to be about ME?

Then he asks if I've had any symptoms. "Well, I don't know. Maybe. I felt a little dizzy out of the blue a couple times. And felt like I couldn't catch my breath. I wouldn't have paid any attention if I didn't know I was supposed to be watching for symptoms. I DID walk all over Israel and up a bunch of steep hills, even all the way up to the Golan Heights--against the wind--without anything but normal fatigue.

He laughs. "I created a monster." Ummm, yeah.

"Have you been exercising?" 

"Well, yeah. We walk a couple miles a day. I'm back on my Nordictrack Strider." I didn't tell him I'd been lifting some light weights and some very heavy boxes and other items during this renovation, though I was told in December not to.

So he listens to the beating of my heart. Then he says, "Well, I don't think the valve is ripe yet. I don't expect you to have symptoms for three or four years. You don't need to come back for a year."

Wait! So you ask if I have symptoms. But you don't expect symptoms--yet. And when I do have symptoms, someone is gonna do something. And then I'll be older and maybe weaker. Or what if I have some sudden and silent symptom and boom! And now I have to worry about that. 

(In other news, my oldest grand texts me the other day, and our conversation runs like this...
    Last weekend we were in northern Michigan. And the Last weekend we were in northern Michigan. And there were lilacs. They even shook their heads over tornado-induced devastation. Look for the beauty and sweet scents in the midst of the mess. I miss the lilacs.
    Yesterday’s morning view. We haven’t seen the Yesterday’s morning view. We haven’t seen the sun all day today.
    When the folks in my hometown of Gaylord, Michigan When the folks in my hometown of Gaylord, Michigan ate their breakfast Friday morning, they had no idea what terror and devastation they'd face before dinner. Everyone has a story. You've probably seen pictures.

If not, take a peek at @mlivenews .

My great-nephew, not quite 12, had just gotten home from school when the EF-3 came down the street and left its mark on every home. My niece frantically tried to find her way from work through debris and blocked roads. My sister was 30 miles away visiting my dad in rehab. I don't want to know how fast my brother-in-law drove. 

The house and yard took a hit, worse than some, not as bad as others. A mobile home park was demolished--two deaths there. I heard one person is still missing. So many injured. So much awful. But the town is coming together for each other. Pray for them.

We plan to fly up Thursday--already planned to celebrate my dad's 95th birthday. 

Also, if anyone feels led to help, the Otsego Community Foundation and Otsego County United Way are accepting donations. Note “Tornado Relief.” Beware of any other fundraising requests.
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My shirt says “Walk in love. But I’m not feeling very loving. And if it WAS my Mom AKA Mother Mary Esther of the Order of Perpetual Birdwatchers, I’ll bet she’s having a good laugh. A passerby said she heard it was good luck and I should buy a lottery ticket tonight. In other news, I also banged my hip bone against our bed’s footboard and gave myself a mighty bruise. Then I burned my arm on the top of the grill. I did manage to wash all the knives without cutting myself and didn’t start any fires. So how was your day?
    And now… “From the rising of the sun to the pl And now… “From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets, the name of the Lord is to be praised.”
    The world’s a mess, but His mercies are new. The world’s a mess, but His mercies are new.
    When we were in Israel last month, we visited @yad When we were in Israel last month, we visited @yadvashem - the World Holocaust Center in Jerusalem. There wasn't enough time to spend nearly enough time. 

The Valley of the Communities was very moving. It's a labyrinth of stone from which there seems no way out. Our guide said It gives an idea of the endlessness of the horror. His parents emigrated from Vilna (the Jerusalem of Lithuania), before the Holocaust. In 1935, thirteen of his family members still remained there. By 1945 only one--an uncle--had survived. He wrote a book about them from a bundle of old letters. "One story out of millions."

"This memorial commemorates the Jewish communities destroyed by Nazi Germany and its collaborators, and the few which suffered but survived in the shadow of the Holocaust."
#Israel2022 #HolocaustRemembranceDay
    “From my favorite spot on the floor, I look up a “From my favorite spot on the floor, I look up at the blue sky and the bare chestnut tree on whose branches little raindrops shine, appearing like silver, ” Anne Frank wrote in the Diary of a Young Girl. Watching the tree change through the seasons her family spent in hiding in an attic gave her hope. The Holocaust Memorial Center is one of only eleven sites in the United States to receive a sapling from that tree. I stand at “her” window and imagine hanging hope on a tree.

"It happened, therefore it can happen again: this is the core of what we have to say. It can happen, and it can happen everywhere.” ~ Primo Levi

From a post I wrote for @tspoetry after a visit to the @holocaustcenter.

https://www.tweetspeakpoetry.com/2016/07/27/regional-tour-holocaust-memorial-center-farmington-hills-michigan/
    Stunning tree I parked near at Bible study yesterd Stunning tree I parked near at Bible study yesterday. I was in a rush and failed to snap the whole tree. I need to run back before the flowers fall. I think it’s a jacaranda? I want one.
    Speaking of birds... bluejay in my backyard this a Speaking of birds... bluejay in my backyard this afternoon. I thought he was hurt, but I think he was just trying to cool off. (Maybe it's a young one.... unless it's the light?)
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    “Now in the place where he was crucified there w “Now in the place where he was crucified there was a new tomb in which no one had yet been laid.” ~ John 19:41

“But the angel said to the women, ‘Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay…’”~ Matthew 28:5-6

Many wonder if this tomb, which lies just a few yards west of Golgotha could be the place where Jesus lay and rose. I wish we could have lingered longer here in this garden and in the tomb itself. It was easier for me to imagine the events of that weekend happening here than in the heavily incensed, decorated, dark and crowded Church of the Holy Sepulchre… though my hairdresser said her old boyfriend “got chills”’when he entered that tomb. We did not go inside that one because the line was way too long. 

At any rate, the most important thing is that he tomb is EMPTY and HE IS RISEN!

HAPPY EASTER!
#Israel2022 #GardenTomb #Easter
     “Peter said to him, ‘Lord, I am ready to g 
“Peter said to him, ‘Lord, I am ready to go with you both to prison and to death’ Jesus said, ‘I tell you, Peter, the rooster will not crow this day until you deny three times that you know me.’” ~ Luke 22:33-34

The Church of St. Peter in Gallicantu (rooster crowing) built over what tradition says was the house of Caiaphas where Jesus was brought after he was arrested. Perhaps he was imprisoned in one of the underground crypts while awaiting trial. 

“On top of the church, higher than the cross—I loved this—stands a golden rooster! I’ll never look at a weathervane the same again. How would you like to have a church commemorate your weakest moment?” ~ Wayne Stiles in Walking in the Footsteps of Jesus

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Gethsemane means “olive press.” Jesus was pressed to his very depths that night.  He knew what was ahead. He could have run far away. But he went where he knew Judas would look for him. 

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Garden of Gethsemane and Church of the Nations

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in happiness, in kindness." ~ Mary Oliver in "Why I Wake Early"
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