Leah, thank you. Truly. Your presence in this journey means more than I can say. I’m so grateful we get to walk this path together. And your encouragement helps me keep going when the doubts creep in. Honored to have you here alongside me.
What a balm for the soul, Glenn. I’ve come to enjoy listening to your audio as I read along. Your voice adds a special dimension to these pieces.
Fellow “lectiophile” and audible enthusiast here. One gem I’m holding close is that I don’t have to have it all figured out before I sit down to write—the act of writing itself has a way of bringing forth what’s murky or amorphous in my head. Funny thing is I *know* this but still get hung up (often) on needing a complete thesis before letting the writing process work its magic.
So… thank you. I wonder if one day I’ll hear your voice narrating a book on Audible 😉
Daniel, thank you. Your note is so generous and encouraging. Especially the part about the audio. That’s been the most vulnerable part for me by far. I’m sure I’ll need to record an Audible version of the books I’m working on now… and I’m equally sure my inner critic will throw a fit. Which probably means I definitely need to do it.
And yes, how strange and hilarious it is to “know” something in our heads, yet still let it trip us up again and again. That idea of needing a fully formed thesis before writing has snagged me more times than I can count. The writing is the discovery, but we forget that until we remember again. And again.
Lectiophile to fellow lectiophile, I look forward to reading more of your work soon. So grateful for the connection.
Yes. I always listen to the audible sample before I buy an audible book. There are some voices I couldn’t listen to, but I could listen to Glenn’s voice narrating an audible book.
This was a powerful piece in more ways than I can name. Among the many "yes" moments, I especially enjoyed your reference to writing in flow and sometimes working to make sense of what comes of that. I've done this since I was old enough to write, but never knew others connected to whatever that creative space can be called until only recently (and I'm 47 years old)! It's community-building and soul affirming in a way that makes me feel validated as a writer and more "real" as a human when learning that others do the same thing. It's rare and special to read work like yours. Thank you! Also, gorgeous image of nature at the top.
Michelle, thank you! 🙏 Your words mean a great deal, especially coming from a writer whose work I admire deeply. I’ve read your pieces with that same rare sense of resonance, so to hear that this offered a kind of mirror back is both humbling and soul-affirming in return.
I deeply relate to what you shared about writing from a place of flow long before having a name for it or knowing others did the same. Even though I’ve only started writing for myself (instead of for a business) in earnest this year (at almost 46) it’s been astonishing to uncover just how powerful and clarifying this practice can be. Realizing we’re not alone in how we create, or how we try to make sense of what emerges, feels like discovering a shared language we somehow already speak. It’s comforting. Validating. And yes, deeply human.
Thank you again for your generous comment. It gives me fuel to keep going.
If you want to write, or even if you are a writer, reading or listening to this would be time well spent. I enjoyed listening and will revisit. Thank you, Glenn!
Your words carry so much truth and beauty. It’s humbling to know writing has held you through so much. I can see the grief and the love in your writing.
It’s amazing how we think we need clarity to write, but so often it’s the writing that brings the clarity. Thank you for sharing your story. 🙏
Flow? Interestingly, that happens when I’m writing poetry though I have difficulty with it when I’m writing to write something “important.”
Blank pages win a staring contest with me. I can stare stare at a blank page for an extended time…
I am a writer that is always writing and never writes.
I frequently am writing in my head, while I’m doing other tasks, in the garden, or frequently when driving. I write in my head and I think, “wow that was remarkable!” I will remember this and as soon as I’m able to hold pencil or pen in hand get to one of my journals… Well, I’m so busy with so many important things that that just doesn’t seem to happen.
Journaling gets set aside for times when I attempt frantically to “catch up,” and makes sense of where I am in the moment. That journaling turns out to be rather ridiculous like and then, and then, etc., etc. .. it’s very nonsensical and without the substance that I mean to impart to my personal blank page. Why do I feel before I can write within my mind and heart? I first have to “catch up” with my life. It often turns out like a memory jog of a daily log — and then I did this, then that— very uninteresting!
I will write what I composed in my head earlier st another time, later when I really have time and am in creative mode. At least for now i filled in a blank page with reference to my life. Huh?!
Perhaps while I’m driving, I could set a recording. Yet that that’s a little awkward carrying a recording around.
I write on scratch paper or in a daily calendar, which then later gets tossed along with other extraneous yearly clutter. Sometimes, I find piece of writing stashed in a book or in a file randomly associated with where I find it. I save those and stick them in a current or previous journal . Perhaps I‘ll re-work that piece sometime. It’s very good.
What is my resistance to actually letting myself write?
Every astrological reading or therapist tells me it’s important for me to write. So let’s write! When i do that, I actually dive in and am nourished.
After one significant home funeral and green burial, I said to the husband, “we could write a book together.”
That took five years of dragging myself out of the garden or essential tasks to sit and write. Finally with the grace of friends listening and reflecting and a sister who spent hours helping with grammar corrections and consolidating ideas, it made the press. It morphed into just my book, though due to the initial co-authorship it published.
I’m pleased and proud of it. It’s good and genuinely interesting and helpful about death. Yet, now it needs updating and a thorough re-editing.
So yes, I write as one with great affection for being a writer and yet, I am too uncentered and undisciplined to focus on and allowing myself to be seduced by a love with writing.
Speaking of grief…
Well, that’s when I have written the most. I take time to let anger and sorrow, reflection and wonderment surface. During the biggest break up of my life, a marriage unwrapped. I wrote a lot then. I wrote of my sorrow, anger, frustration, confusion and desire for fixing it. Those are a boxed up somewhere. I think of them yet not sure I want to leave to them to be uncovered by others later.
I have some journals that show I took time for writing. Those journals feel valuable and precious to me. There are entries that I consider treasures to return to and even share. I just wish I would do it more often more intentionally.
Provocative, emails and spontaneous, beautiful poems do not a writer make. They are too random.
This essay Glenn, is fabulous! I took notes as i listened again this time.
In my humble estimation, I feel this article could develop into a whole class on creative writing. It is exceptional! It is a great teaching for me.
I thank you greatly!
A shout out to each of those who reflected on this piece above. I agree and underline their comments with my exclamation mark. I was moved to “like” them all.
Now to edit this long entry and consider whether it’s worth sending on its way …
Soul-sent and soul-felt. This is the stuff. I’m so here for this journey.
Leah, thank you. Truly. Your presence in this journey means more than I can say. I’m so grateful we get to walk this path together. And your encouragement helps me keep going when the doubts creep in. Honored to have you here alongside me.
What a balm for the soul, Glenn. I’ve come to enjoy listening to your audio as I read along. Your voice adds a special dimension to these pieces.
Fellow “lectiophile” and audible enthusiast here. One gem I’m holding close is that I don’t have to have it all figured out before I sit down to write—the act of writing itself has a way of bringing forth what’s murky or amorphous in my head. Funny thing is I *know* this but still get hung up (often) on needing a complete thesis before letting the writing process work its magic.
So… thank you. I wonder if one day I’ll hear your voice narrating a book on Audible 😉
Daniel, thank you. Your note is so generous and encouraging. Especially the part about the audio. That’s been the most vulnerable part for me by far. I’m sure I’ll need to record an Audible version of the books I’m working on now… and I’m equally sure my inner critic will throw a fit. Which probably means I definitely need to do it.
And yes, how strange and hilarious it is to “know” something in our heads, yet still let it trip us up again and again. That idea of needing a fully formed thesis before writing has snagged me more times than I can count. The writing is the discovery, but we forget that until we remember again. And again.
Lectiophile to fellow lectiophile, I look forward to reading more of your work soon. So grateful for the connection.
Yes. I always listen to the audible sample before I buy an audible book. There are some voices I couldn’t listen to, but I could listen to Glenn’s voice narrating an audible book.
That is so kind of you to say, Nicola. Thank you. 🙏
This was a powerful piece in more ways than I can name. Among the many "yes" moments, I especially enjoyed your reference to writing in flow and sometimes working to make sense of what comes of that. I've done this since I was old enough to write, but never knew others connected to whatever that creative space can be called until only recently (and I'm 47 years old)! It's community-building and soul affirming in a way that makes me feel validated as a writer and more "real" as a human when learning that others do the same thing. It's rare and special to read work like yours. Thank you! Also, gorgeous image of nature at the top.
Michelle, thank you! 🙏 Your words mean a great deal, especially coming from a writer whose work I admire deeply. I’ve read your pieces with that same rare sense of resonance, so to hear that this offered a kind of mirror back is both humbling and soul-affirming in return.
I deeply relate to what you shared about writing from a place of flow long before having a name for it or knowing others did the same. Even though I’ve only started writing for myself (instead of for a business) in earnest this year (at almost 46) it’s been astonishing to uncover just how powerful and clarifying this practice can be. Realizing we’re not alone in how we create, or how we try to make sense of what emerges, feels like discovering a shared language we somehow already speak. It’s comforting. Validating. And yes, deeply human.
Thank you again for your generous comment. It gives me fuel to keep going.
If you want to write, or even if you are a writer, reading or listening to this would be time well spent. I enjoyed listening and will revisit. Thank you, Glenn!
Thank you so much, Nicola. I’m so glad it resonated. And I am honored that you’ll revisit it. That means a lot. 🙏
Great article Glenn!
Writing has saved me after grief.
Writing made me understand while loving
Writing helped clear my head in all kinds of situations
Thank you for writing.
Thank you, Simona.
Your words carry so much truth and beauty. It’s humbling to know writing has held you through so much. I can see the grief and the love in your writing.
It’s amazing how we think we need clarity to write, but so often it’s the writing that brings the clarity. Thank you for sharing your story. 🙏
Flow? Interestingly, that happens when I’m writing poetry though I have difficulty with it when I’m writing to write something “important.”
Blank pages win a staring contest with me. I can stare stare at a blank page for an extended time…
I am a writer that is always writing and never writes.
I frequently am writing in my head, while I’m doing other tasks, in the garden, or frequently when driving. I write in my head and I think, “wow that was remarkable!” I will remember this and as soon as I’m able to hold pencil or pen in hand get to one of my journals… Well, I’m so busy with so many important things that that just doesn’t seem to happen.
Journaling gets set aside for times when I attempt frantically to “catch up,” and makes sense of where I am in the moment. That journaling turns out to be rather ridiculous like and then, and then, etc., etc. .. it’s very nonsensical and without the substance that I mean to impart to my personal blank page. Why do I feel before I can write within my mind and heart? I first have to “catch up” with my life. It often turns out like a memory jog of a daily log — and then I did this, then that— very uninteresting!
I will write what I composed in my head earlier st another time, later when I really have time and am in creative mode. At least for now i filled in a blank page with reference to my life. Huh?!
Perhaps while I’m driving, I could set a recording. Yet that that’s a little awkward carrying a recording around.
I write on scratch paper or in a daily calendar, which then later gets tossed along with other extraneous yearly clutter. Sometimes, I find piece of writing stashed in a book or in a file randomly associated with where I find it. I save those and stick them in a current or previous journal . Perhaps I‘ll re-work that piece sometime. It’s very good.
What is my resistance to actually letting myself write?
Every astrological reading or therapist tells me it’s important for me to write. So let’s write! When i do that, I actually dive in and am nourished.
After one significant home funeral and green burial, I said to the husband, “we could write a book together.”
That took five years of dragging myself out of the garden or essential tasks to sit and write. Finally with the grace of friends listening and reflecting and a sister who spent hours helping with grammar corrections and consolidating ideas, it made the press. It morphed into just my book, though due to the initial co-authorship it published.
I’m pleased and proud of it. It’s good and genuinely interesting and helpful about death. Yet, now it needs updating and a thorough re-editing.
So yes, I write as one with great affection for being a writer and yet, I am too uncentered and undisciplined to focus on and allowing myself to be seduced by a love with writing.
Speaking of grief…
Well, that’s when I have written the most. I take time to let anger and sorrow, reflection and wonderment surface. During the biggest break up of my life, a marriage unwrapped. I wrote a lot then. I wrote of my sorrow, anger, frustration, confusion and desire for fixing it. Those are a boxed up somewhere. I think of them yet not sure I want to leave to them to be uncovered by others later.
I have some journals that show I took time for writing. Those journals feel valuable and precious to me. There are entries that I consider treasures to return to and even share. I just wish I would do it more often more intentionally.
Provocative, emails and spontaneous, beautiful poems do not a writer make. They are too random.
This essay Glenn, is fabulous! I took notes as i listened again this time.
In my humble estimation, I feel this article could develop into a whole class on creative writing. It is exceptional! It is a great teaching for me.
I thank you greatly!
A shout out to each of those who reflected on this piece above. I agree and underline their comments with my exclamation mark. I was moved to “like” them all.
Now to edit this long entry and consider whether it’s worth sending on its way …