Small Town Wren

Having known an implausible number of writers, I’m acutely aware of the quirks and phobias many of these odd but wondrous creatures hold. I can certainly tell you about one of mine, and it’s a pretty common phobia: fear of the blank page.

Blank pages are pregnant with possibility. You could put anything down a glaringly white (or ivory, or whatever) piece of paper, and it’s exactly that potential that is so exciting and alluring. It’s also terrifying. Why, what is one to do if one puts the wrong thing down on that precious paper? What if you make a mistake? Or worse: what if it’s stupid? This is perhaps the single reason why I respect any artist: they all are putting themselves out there and opening themselves up to ridicule. It’s definitely the hardest part of the process for me.

I know I am a capable writer, and most of the writers I encounter in workshops and what-not tend to agree. And yet, every single person I have ever been in a workshop has, in some form or another, encountered the irrational fear and shame that I have in my work. Though I am proud to say this has improved greatly over the years, especially the confidence I have in my criticism. In a shocing reversal, Wren the Critic is more confident than Wren the Writer. This must indicate that I’ve grown more confident as a writer, too.

Back to my original point: blank pages are frightening things to deal with. The boxes and boxes of blank notebooks in my parents’ basement can attest to this. I’ll fully admit I’m a bit of a perfectionist: revision-as-process is my modus operandi. Yet another thing I’ve been working to change in my approach. My academic writing is always a one step process. I’ve never done a full revision of anything academic. Ever. And I’m sure that comes out in my blog posts, as well. How many times have I gone off on a tangent in this post already?

What really made me start thinking about all this is that I bought a new notebook today. A new notebook that prompted my mother to chastise me about all the boxes in the basement. It’s no secret I have trouble marring pages. Especially in purposeless books.

But this moleskine has a purpose. I’m consolidating my life into one place: calendars, planning, writing, ideas, random notes, etc. Not exactly an original idea for a moleskine, but it’s an effective plan. I slapped some indexing tabs on (in?) it and have broken in the spine. It’s all ready for some ink.

And I did the most important thing: I marred every single page. There are no blank pages in my new notebook now, which means there is nothing to fear about sullying them more. And I’ve already gotten some meaningful use out of five pages. I don’t want to be afraid anymore.

Photo courtesy of Thomas Hawk.

I spent some time at the local library this weekend getting some work done. I took some time to graze through some periodicals, including the Utne Reader. It’s been several years since I last picked up the Utne in a tiny Michigan town, and that’s a decision I have come to regret. The January/February 2010 issue has some fantastic articles and dispatches.

In particular there’s a quick dispatch from the IEEE Spectrum on the coming streetcar revival. Considering I’ve been planning a move to the stereotypical trolley-land of San Francisco in two years, the timing is interesting, to say the least. Nevermind that the true trolleys are the land of tourists and real transportation is on subways and trolley-busses (far less romantic).

I’m sort of passionate about public transportation. While driving is convenient (and a necessity for my current locale), it stands in stark contrast to my ethics. Cars are perhaps, among other things, a hallmark of American consumption and consumerism. They’re also terribly inefficient in terms of resources, and time & energy waste. And I’m aware that most people who have never lived in a public transport mecca will go on and on and on about how that is false, cars save so much time, blah blah blah.

I hate to break it to you, but no. They don’t. I’ll concede that they do in public transport black holes, but anyone who’s lived in cities where transportation is essential to the entire population will understand my point. When implemented effectively, public transportation is superior and reduces pollution and the need for resources. It’s why I’m such a huge fan of the bicycle.

But back to the trolleys. I find them to be exciting. It could potentially be a way to get an effective public transportation system in place without the crazy high costs associated with them. Smaller metropolises could utilize a streetcar system to great effect. The more people we get on mass transit the better. Driving a car is political, and it’s not politics I endorse.