Bird by Bird, Buddy.

So lately I've been reading a book called Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life by Anne Lamott. It's pretty interesting so far. I like the way she talks about writing, because she integrates writing and life. And that's really what fiction writing is about--being true to what life is about from your perspective. That is an odd concept, considering there's so much fiction out there that obviously isn't realistic. Here's what Lamott says about it (I like the way she puts it):

"This brings us to the matter of how we, as writers, tell the truth. A writer paradoxically seeks the truth and tells lies every step of the way. It's a lie if you make something up. But you make it up in the name of the truth, and then you give your heart to expressing it clearly. You make up your characters, partly from experience, partly out of the thin air of the subconscious, and you need to feel committed to telling the exact truth about them, even though you are making them up."

I haven't finished the book yet, so I don't have a ton to say about it yet. But it's interesting so far. So I guess I will end with something which Anne Lamott relates to writing but could also relate to life in general:

"Thirty years ago my older brother, who was ten years old at the time, was trying to get a report on birds written that he'd had three months to write. It was due the next day. We were out at our family cabin in Bolinas, and he was at the kitchen table close to tears, surrounded by binder paper and pencils and unopened books on birds, immobilized by the hugeness of the task ahead. Then my father sat down beside him, put his arm around my brother's shoulder, and said, 'Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.' "