Bird By Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

This section touches on the theme of Mindfulness as a Tool for Writing and Life. Lamott notes that “all of the interesting characters I’ve ever worked with—including myself—have had at their center a feeling of otherness, of homesickness” (200). Mindfulness is a way to combat feelings of homesickness. The “present moment” (201) becomes home. Also, mindfulness can be connected to being alive—that is, being fully present in each moment. This is not necessarily an easy practice to maintain. Being fully present in each moment means fully experiencing difficult emotions that many people would prefer to tune out. Lamott notes how “punishment and trance are a great deal more comfortable and familiar than aliveness” (206). However, writing offers a kind of balm for the pain that comes with “aliveness,” since it allows the writer to process difficult experiences and to turn them into art.

Most of this section focuses on Writing as a Comfort to the Self and Others. This, more than publication, is what Lamott advocates for, because “so many of us can be soothed by writing” (204). Emphasizing the memoir aspect of the book, she draws from her own experience: “Twice now I have written books that began as presents to people I loved who were going to die” (185). Strikingly, those books that began as gifts to specific individuals became gifts to the broader reading public as well. They were also gifts Lamott gave to herself, allowing herself the space to fully feel and process the grief she felt at losing these loved ones. Her gift of books comforted her father and her friend, and at the same time, the act of writing them comforted her. In writing with honesty and vulnerability, and in being fully present, through the act of writing, in these painful experiences, she ultimately made something that could be shared with and give comfort to a wider audience. This, for Lamott, is the paradox of writing: What is most personal and private is also most universal. The act of writing about a dying loved one also emphasizes the almost magical power of writing to break experiences out of the flow of time. Her father and her friend are gone, but they still live on the page whenever that page is read. There’s a tendency to associate this form of literary immortality with canonization. Shakespeare’s most famous sonnet ends with a couplet implying that the poem itself grants eternal life to the speaker’s beloved: “So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, / So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.” It’s easy to believe that only a writer as revered as Shakespeare has this power, but Lamott emphasizes that even an unpublished text can be passed from one person to another, within a family for example, and can thus immortalize its subjects.  

The act of writing is an opportunity to give yourself over to an artistic project. Lamott argues that “giving is going to have to be its own reward” (203). Having a place to channel your creative energy, like a writing project, can be good for the psyche. There is a sense of accomplishment in giving everything you have—emotions, memories, imagination, research skills, etc.—to a form of creation. This also develops the theme of Writing as a Comfort to the Self and Others.

Another way that Writing is a Comfort to the Self and Others is by expressing truths. Lamott describes working with students who have experienced trauma and who have been pressured to keep silent about their experiences, students who say they write because they “will not be silenced again” (196). Psychologists and therapists often suggest that their patients use writing as a way to work through trauma. Lamott’s advice about writing is similar: “Your anger and damage and grief are the way to the truth” (201). Writing your truth can offer a sense of comfort, or closure. Furthermore, denial can negatively affect your writing as well as your psyche. Lamott says, “Truth seems to want expression. Unacknowledged truth saps your energy and keeps you and your characters wired and delusional” (199). Being truthful about your emotions can give characters depth, as well as improve your mental state.

Lamott eventually discusses publishing as a part of The Practical Craft of Writing in this section. After advising writers to edit even the most emotional pieces, such as those about people who are dying, Lamott describes the experience of being published. She warns writers that publication does not equal fortune or fame. She describes seeing the galleys of your manuscript—the formatted pages of your book. Seeing your manuscript in a different form, before you start to see the errors in the galleys, “is heaven” (212), Lamott says. However, reviewing your galleys will include marking corrections, which is essentially editing your work again.

Since the era in which Lamott wrote this book, self-publishing has emerged as a new aspect of The Practical Craft of Writing. In self-publishing, an author might do their own layout design or, in other words, create their own galleys, which they will then have to edit. Self-publishing presents unique challenges, as it requires writers to be their own editors, layout designers, publicists, and more, but it offers writers a chance to take control of the publication of their work, rather than waiting for approval from traditional industry gatekeepers. A number of authors who have been ignored by the traditional publishing industry have been able to make a career out of self-publishing.

Publication, in Lamott’s day and in the current decade, is connected to the monetary aspects of The Practical Craft of Writing. To have a career as a writer, publishing is important. Lamott says, “publication is the acknowledgement from the community that you did your writing right. You acquire a rank that you never lose. Now you’re a published writer, and you are in that rare position of getting to make a living, such as it is, doing what you love best. That knowledge does bring you a quiet joy” (215).