Bird by Bird

So I started reading this book a few months ago, and have enjoyed it, despite the fact that it's taken me a while. It's not necessarily a page turner, but enjoyable to read Ann Lamott's thoughts on writing and life. I have read other religious works by her, and was interested to read something about the art of writing. My New Year's resolution is to write every day, even if only a little bit. But also to try new kinds of writing - poetry, creative writing, who knows! Mainly, I want to work on "finding my voice," as they say. Bird by Bird was helpful in thinking about the different ways to go about approaching this this project.

Here are some of my favorite passages from the book, which will hopefully get you interested as well!
"You can safely assume you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do."
"A big heart is both a clunky and a delicate thing; it doesn't protect itself and it doesn't hide. It stands out like a baby's fontanel, where you can see the soul pulse through."
"The truth of your experience can only come through in your own voice. If it is wrapped in someone else's voice, we readers will feel suspicious, as if you are dressed up in someone else's clothes. You cannot write out of someone else's big dark place; you can only write out of your own.

"Here is the best true story on giving I know, and it was told by Jack Kornfield of the Spirit Rock Meditation center in Woodacre. An eight-year-old boy had a younger sister who was dying of leukemia, and hew as told that without a blood transfusion she would die. His parents explained to him that his blood was probably compatible with hers, and if so, he could be the blood donor. They asked him if they could test his blood. He said sure. So they did and it was a good match. They they asked if he would give his sister a pint of blood, that it could be her only change of living. He said he would have to think about it overnight. The next day he went to his parents and said he was willing to donate the blood. So they took him to the hospital where he was put on a gurney beside his six-year-old sister. Both of them were hooked up to IVs. A nurse withdrew a pint of blood from the boy, which was then put int eh girl's IV. The boy lay on his gurney in silence while the blood dripped into his sister, until the doctor came over to see how he was doing. Then the boy opened his eyes and asked, 'How soon until I start to die?' Sometimes you have to be that innocent to be a writer. Writing takes a combination of sophistication and innocence; it takes conscience, our belief that something is beautiful because it's right."