Writing advice from the master

My meanderings over the internet led me to a YouTube video called “An Evening with Ray Bradbury,” a 2001 keynote speech to a writer’s symposium at Point Loma Nazarene University in San Diego. I had already spent too much time meandering and couldn’t afford to lose another 54 minutes, but I couldn’t resist a taste.

The first bit of advice he gave to a roomful of creative writers in those first five minutes was a good one and one I had heard from him before: Don’t write novels yet. Start with short stories — aim for writing one a week. That way you get 52 small victories, whereas after toiling over a novel for a year you may have nothing finished and no victories, and what if it’s not any good? At least one or more of the short stories is bound to be pretty good, Bradbury said, defying anyone to write 52 bad short stories. “Can’t be done,” he said.

At that point I stopped the recording for now, but I was reminded of an approach I’m sure I’ve written down before, but I’d forgotten or neglected it.

For a writer who’s stalled halfway through a novel, rather than scrapping it all and starting a short-story routine as Bradbury recommended, why not stop worrying about finishing the novel and instead write the next chapter as if it were a short story? Each chapter in a book needs to follow the rules of a short story anyway.

Instead of having 25 or 27 chapters of an unfinished novel, now you’ve successfully written 25-27 short stories following the adventures of a certain set of characters. When you sit down with those characters again, now you’re writing the next installment in an ongoing series of short stories, which sounds less daunting than sitting down to try to finish the long-delayed big project.

I’m definitely going to save the link to that talk, however, to see what gems I can glean from the next 49 minutes. Or maybe I’ll just drop it here, for you, so I can find it easily again:

Serenity and Courage

I went down a rabbit hole when I went looking for the “album version” of the Serenity Prayer. You know what I mean? In the days of Top 40 radio, there was the three-minute version of a song that the radio played and was released as a 45 rpm single, and then there was the much longer version that appeared on the album. The best example I know is “Light My Fire,” which clocks in at 2:52 in the #1 single but runs more than seven minutes on the album The Doors, with extended organ and guitar solos.

So there’s the short and sweet version of the Serenity Prayer, attributed to theologian Reinhold Niebuhr OR — as I learned in the rabbit hole — another theologian, Winnifred Wygal. It appears Wygal was a student of Niebuhr who wrote in her diary a quote from the end of a longer prayer in which he said, “The victorious man in the day of crisis is the man who has the serenity to accept what he cannot help and the courage to change what must be altered.”

Wygal then published a prayer in the March 1933 edition of the YWCA magazine The Woman’s Press, and the Santa Cruz Sentinel of March 15, 1933, published it as: “Oh, God, give us courage to change what must be altered, serenity to accept what can not be helped, and insight to know the one from the other.”

From there it evolved into the form familiar to me — 

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.”

Alcoholics Anonymous is said to be the source of the “album version,” which has a comma, not a period, after “difference” and continues:

Living one day at a time,
Enjoying one moment at a time,
Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace,
Taking, as He did,
This sinful world as it is,
Not as I would have it,
Trusting that He will make all things right,
If I surrender to His will,
That I may be reasonably happy in this life,
And supremely happy with Him forever in the next.
Amen.

It was in search of this addendum that led me down the rabbit hole, only to discover that, as lovely as the long-form version might be, they were not part of the original intention. Niebuhr’s daughter Elisabeth Sifton wrote of the additions that “their message and their tone are not in any way Niebuhrian.”

As I climbed out of the rabbit hole, I realized all of this dissection tends to obscure the original thought, which is somewhat essential to sanity: There’s stuff in life that we can fix, and there’s stuff that’s out of our control, and there’s wisdom and insight in figuring out which is which. We ask God to give us the courage to fix what we can fix and the peace of mind to accept what we can’t. 

I tend to think, however, that we never know what we’re capable of changing until we try. When we feel like we’re getting a nudge from God to do something, it’s easy to give it a little try and then say, “Oh, well, that didn’t work, I guess I have to accept this.”

If we don’t find ourselves feeling a true serenity of acceptance, and instead still feel uncomfortable, maybe it’s something we’re actually capable of changing and we need to muster a little more courage to change it.

If God doesn’t grant us that serenity — that peace beyond understanding and acceptance — then apparently we really are praying the Courage Prayer and we need to work harder for that change.

Tomorrow and Tomorrow (demo)

Here is another demo of a song I plan to include in the upcoming w.p. bluhm project New Dog, Old Tricks. This is the one I wrote about last week that was “More than 3 years in the making.” The video didn’t turn out — I cut off the top half of my face — so here’s just the soundtrack.

Tomorrow and Tomorrow

Well, I was born in the fifties, and I grew up in the sixties,
Paid some dues in the seventies, but never enough to count.
I stayed adolescent to my fifties, I kept marking time in my sixties,
I hope to live through my seventies to see how it all it turns out.
Tomorrow and tomorrow, if I have a tomorrow,
Gonna pack my bags tomorrow and see the world.

I loved too many girls in the eighties, found the love of my life in the nineties,
Just in time for a brave new century, and then I took off my mask.
I hope I get to see my eighties, and maybe even my nineties,
But somehow I think a century’s a little too much to ask.
Tomorrow and tomorrow, if I have a tomorrow,
Gonna pack my bags tomorrow and see the world.

Tomorrow and tomorrow, let me run, let the words flow,
Tomorrow and tomorrow, I sing the song my heart’s held fast.
Tomorrow and tomorrow, let me let the fears all go,
Tomorrow help me let it all out at last.

Here we are now in the twenties, counting down to the thirties.
By the time we get to the forties, shouldn’t have much left to do.
All these numbers comprise a journey from birth to our final adieu,
And as for the destination, gonna leave that up to you.
Tomorrow and tomorrow, if I have a tomorrow,
Gonna pack my bags tomorrow and see the world.

“Tomorrow and Tomorrow” © 2024 w.p. bluhm. All rights reserved.