Inspiration Collides with Reality

Sometimes, writing is more of a thought process than an action. That's where I tend to linger. I think of myself as a writer--always have--but too much of my writing is happening in thought rather than in print. I suppose that is why I've turned here, to my blog...I want to change the habit of "thinking" about writing into one of "doing" the writing.

I just read a memoir by Anne Lamott about her mother; her dead mother. It was riveting! She dug into the ugliness of their relationship without bringing up the nitty gritty--she alluded to the discontent between them, or at least that which she felt toward her mother, but she kept the specifics at bay. I found a degree of bravery in her writing that I admired. It also made me wonder: does she have any siblings? What about aunts and uncles? Ultimately I wondered: How does she get away with this much honesty in her writing--does it cause fights in her family? animosity? discord? years-long silent treatment? I was inspired by her piece and yearned to be able to write like that, but I don't know how brave I am...well, let me rephrase that, I was inspired by her piece and yearned to be able to write like that, but had to face the fact that I am not a brave writer, I am a safe writer. As much as I love to read other people's prose about the difficulties, challenges, and embarrassments of their lives, I have not dared to go there in my own work. Maybe I will...if I outlive all of my family members.

Oh, but then that wouldn't be brave, would it?