'Bird by Bird' clippings

So, I just finished reading Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life by Anne Lamott. Maybe it's a strange book to pick up for a leisurely read, but I've actually wanted to read it for some time. Aside from this blog, and the occasional unfortunate entry in my real-life, tangible journal, and maybe a nonsense poem every now and then, I don't really write. But I like the idea of it. I wish I were a writer. So, I thought, perhaps this book could teach me a thing or two-- maybe it could fill me in on some of the secrets of the writer's life. I really enjoyed the book, mostly because I enjoy Anne Lamott and her incredibly honest, often amusing stories. But the book kind of gave me a glimpse into the life and thought processes of writer. I'm not exactly sure I'm up to the task, (it seems rather daunting and demanding), but I kind of like dabbling.

I borrowed this book from the library, (on my kindle!), and I was rather displeased to find out, after finishing the book, that your bookmarks and clippings don't actually show up in your clippings folder for borrowed books. So, I decided to write down what I "underlined". These are just some quotes that I liked. Some are relevant to life, some are less so. Some are funny, and some just sound nice. And yes, I could have just left these clippings in my "drafts" folder, but I figured, if I've already written them out, maybe you, too, could find some little gem of wit or wisdom to tuck away for later. I hope you enjoy them, and if you're at all interested in writing, I would definitely recommend the book.

Perfectionism is a mean, frozen form of idealism, while messes are the artist's true friend. What people somehow (inadvertently, I'm sure) forgot to mention when we were children was that we need to make messes in order to find out who we are and why we are here--and, by extension, what we're supposed to be writing. p. 32

In general, though, there's no point in writing hopeless novels. We all know we're going to die; what's important is the kind of men and women we are in the face of this. p. 51

Just as everyone is a walking advertisement for who he or she is, so every room is a little showcase of its occupants' values and personalities. Every room is about memory. Every room gives us layers of information about our past and present and who we are, our shrines and quirks and hopes and sorrows, our attempts to prove that we exist and are more or less Okay. You can see, in our rooms, how much light we need--how many light bulbs, candles, skylights we have--and in how we keep things lit you can see how we try to comfort ourselves. The mix in our rooms is so touching: the clutter and the cracks in the wall belie a bleakness or brokenness in our lives, while photos and a few rare objects show our pride, our rare shining moments. p. 74

(talking about characters), you will finally have to admit that who they are isn't who you thought they were.
Dying people can teach us this more directly. Often the attributes that define them drop away--the hair, the shape, the skills, the cleverness. And then it turns out that the packaging is not who that person has really been all along. Without the package, another sort of beauty shines through. p. 83

if you want to make God laugh, tell her your plans. p. 87

I honestly think that in order to be a writer, you have to learn to be reverent. If not, why are you writing? Why are you here? p. 99

Mostly things are not that way, that simple and pure, with so much focus given to each syllable of life as life sings itself. But that kind of attention is the prize. To be engrossed by something outside ourselves is a powerful antidote for the rational mind, the mind that so frequently has its head up its own ass--seeing things in such a narrow and darkly narcissistic way that it presents a colo-rectal theology, offering hope to no one. p 102

It helps to resign as the controller of your fate. All that energy we expend to keep things running right is not what's keeping things running right. p. 180

"Is life too short to be taking shit, or is life too short to be minding it?" quoted from Violet Weingarten's Intimations of Mortality p. 187

Writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation. They deepen and widen and expand our sense of life: they feed the soul. When writers make us shake our heads with the exactness of their prose and their truths, and even make us laugh about ourselves or life, our buoyancy is restored. We are given a shot at dancing with, or at least clapping along with, the absurdity of life, instead of being squashed by it over and over again. It's like singing on a boat during a terrible storm at sea. You can't stop the raging storm, but singing can change the hearts and spirits of the people who are together on that ship. p.237