A Novel Adventure

nevver:

1. “Writing is easy. All you have to do is cross out the wrong words.” — Mark Twain
2. “I only achieve simplicity with enormous effort.” — Clarice Lispector
3. “A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.” — Virginia Woolf
4. “I’ve put in so many enigmas and puzzles that it will keep the professors busy for centuries arguing over what I meant, and that’s the only way of insuring one’s immortality.” — James Joyce
5. “The first draft of anything is shit.” — Ernest Hemingway
6. “Always be a poet, even in prose.” — Charles Baudelaire
7. “Literature — creative literature — unconcerned with sex, is inconceivable.” — Gertrude Stein
8. “If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don’t write, because our culture has no use for it.” — Anaïs Nin
9. “One can be absolutely truthful and sincere even though admittedly the most outrageous liar. Fiction and invention are of the very fabric of life.” — Henry Miller
10. “Writers aren’t people exactly. Or, if they’re any good, they’re a whole lot of people trying so hard to be one person.” — F. Scott Fitzgerald
11. “The true writer has nothing to say. What counts is the way he says it.” — Alain Robbe-Grillet
12. “James Joyce was a synthesizer, trying to bring in as much as he could. I am an analyzer, trying to leave out as much as I can.” — Samuel Beckett
13. “Life is painful and disappointing. It is useless, therefore, to write new realistic novels. We generally know where we stand in relation to reality and don’t care to know any more.” — Michel Houellebecq
14. “Do you realize that all great literature is all about what a bummer it is to be a human being? Isn’t it such a relief to have somebody say that?” — Kurt Vonnegut
15. “Skill alone cannot teach or produce a great short story, which condenses the obsession of the creature; it is a hallucinatory presence manifest from the first sentence to fascinate the reader, to make him lose contact with the dull reality that surrounds him, submerging him in another that is more intense and compelling.” — Julio Cortázar
16. “Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.” — Franz Kafka
17. “Reading is more important than writing.” — Roberto Bolaño
18. “The artist is always beginning. Any work of art which is not a beginning, an invention, a discovery is of little worth.” — Ezra Pound
19. “The next real literary “rebels” in this country might well emerge as some weird bunch of anti-rebels, born oglers who dare somehow to back away from ironic watching, who have the childish gall actually to endorse and instantiate single-entendre principles. Who treat of plain old untrendy human troubles and emotions in U.S. life with reverence and conviction. Who eschew self-consciousness and hip fatigue. These anti-rebels would be outdated, of course, before they even started. Dead on the page. Too sincere. Clearly repressed. Backward, quaint, naive, anachronistic. Maybe that’ll be the point. Maybe that’s why they’ll be the next real rebels. Real rebels, as far as I can see, risk disapproval. The old postmodern insurgents risked the gasp and squeal: shock, disgust, outrage, censorship, accusations of socialism, anarchism, nihilism. Today’s risks are different. The new rebels might be artists willing to risk the yawn, the rolled eyes, the cool smile, the nudged ribs, the parody of gifted ironists, the “Oh how banal.” To risk accusations of sentimentality, melodrama. Of overcredulity. Of softness. Of willingness to be suckered by a world of lurkers and starers who fear gaze and ridicule above imprisonment without law. Who knows.” — David Foster Wallace
20. “The person born with a talent they are meant to use will find their greatest happiness in using it.” — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
21. “We live not only in a world of thoughts, but also in a world of things. Words without experience are meaningless.” — Vladimir Nabokov
22. “…Describe your sorrows and desires, the thoughts that pass through your mind and your belief in some kind of beauty – describe all these with heartfelt, silent, humble sincerity and, when you express yourself, use the Things around you, the images from your dreams, and the objects that you remember. If your everyday life seems poor, don’t blame it; blame yourself; admit to yourself that you are not enough of a poet to call forth its riches; because for the creator there is not poverty and no poor, indifferent place. And even if you found yourself in some prison, whose walls let in none of the world’s sounds – wouldn’t you still have your childhood, that jewel beyond all price, that treasure house of memories? Turn your attentions to it. Try to raise up the sunken feelings of this enormous past; your personality will grow stronger, your solitude will expand and become a place where you can live in the twilight, where the noise of other people passes by, far in the distance. — And if out of this turning-within, out of this immersion in your own world, poems come, then you will not think of asking anyone whether they are good or not. Nor will you try to interest magazines in these works: for you will see them as your dear natural possession, a piece of your life, a voice from it. A work of art is good if it has arisen out of necessity. That is the only way one can judge it.” — Rainer Maria Rilke
23. “The words of my book nothing, the drift of it everything.” — Walt Whitman
24. “All I know is what the words know, and dead things, and that makes a handsome little sum, with a beginning and a middle and an end, as in the well-built phrase and the long sonata of the dead.” — Samuel Beckett
25. “Do you know what I was smiling at? You wrote down that you were a writer by profession. It sounded to me like the loveliest euphemism I had ever heard. When was writing ever your profession? It’s never been anything but your religion. Never. I’m a little overexcited now. Since it is your religion, do you know what you will be asked when you die? But let me tell you first what you won’t be asked. You won’t be asked if you were working on a wonderful, moving piece of writing when you died. You won’t be asked if it was long or short, sad or funny, published or unpublished. You won’t be asked if you were in good or bad form while you were working on it. You won’t even be asked if it was the one piece of writing you would have been working on if you had known your time would be up when it was finished—I think only poor Soren K. will get asked that. I’m so sure you’ll only get asked two questions. Were most of your stars out? Were you busy writing your heart out? If only you knew how easy it would be for you to say yes to both questions. ” — J.D. Salinger

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(via candicep527)

amandaonwriting:

Benjamin Dreyer is the VP Executive Managing Editor & Copy Chief of Random House Publishing Group. Below is his list of the common stumbling blocks for authors, from A to X. 

• One buys antiques in an antiques store from an antiques dealer; an antique store is a very old store.
• He stayed awhile; he stayed for a while.
• Besides is other than; beside is next to.
• The singular of biceps is biceps; the singular of triceps is triceps. There’s no such thing as a bicep; there’s no such thing as a tricep.
• A blond man, a blond woman; he’s a blond, she’s a blonde.
• A capital is a city (or a letter, or part of a column); a capitol is a building.
• Something centres on something else, not around it.
• If you’re talking about a thrilling plot point, the word is climactic; if you’re discussing the weather, the word is climatic.
• A cornet is an instrument; a coronet is a crown.
• One emigrates from a place; one immigrates to a place.
• The word is enmity, not emnity.
• One goes to work every day, or nearly, but eating lunch is an everyday occurrence.
• A flair is a talent; a flare is an emergency signal.
• A flier is someone who flies planes; a flyer is a piece of paper.
• Flower bed, not flowerbed.
• Free rein, not free reign.
• To garner is to accumulate, as a waiter garners tips; to garnish (in the non-parsley meaning) is to take away, as the government garnishes one’s wages; a garnishee is a person served with a garnishment; to garnishee is also to serve with a garnishment (that is, it’s a synonym for “to garnish”).
• A gel is a jelly; it’s also a transparent sheet used in stage lighting. When Jell-O sets, or when one’s master plan takes final form, it either jells or gels (though I think the former is preferable).
• Bears are grizzly; crimes are grisly. Cheap meat, of course, is gristly.
• Coats go on hangers; planes go in hangars.
• One’s sweetheart is “hon,” not “hun,” unless one’s sweetheart is Attila (not, by the way, Atilla) or perhaps Winnie-the-Pooh (note hyphens).
• One insures cars; one ensures success; one assures people.
• Lawn mower, not lawnmower.
• The past tense of lead is led, not lead.
• One loathes someone else but is loath to admit one’s distaste.
• If you’re leeching, you’re either bleeding a patient with a leech or otherwise sucking someone’s or something’s lifeblood. If you’re leaching, you’re removing one substance from another by means of a percolating liquid (I have virtually no idea what that means; I trust that you do).
• You wear a mantle; your fireplace has a mantel.
• Masseurs are men; masseuses are women. Many otherwise extremely well educated people don’t seem to know this; I have no idea why. (These days they’re all called massage therapists anyway.)
• The short version of microphone is still, so far as RH is concerned, mike. Not, ick, “mic.” [2009 update: I seem to be losing this battle. Badly. 2010 update: I’ve lost. Follow the author’s lead.]
• There’s no such word as moreso.
• Mucus is a noun; mucous is an adjective.
• Nerve-racking, not -wracking; racked with guilt, not wracked with guilt.
• One buys a newspaper at a newsstand, not a newstand.
• An ordinance is a law; ordnance is ammo.
• Palette has to do with colour; palate has to do with taste; a pallet is, among other things, something you sleep on. Eugene Pallette was a character actor; he’s particularly good in the 1943 film Heaven Can Wait.
• Noun wise, a premier is a diplomat; a premiere is something one attends. “Premier” is also, of course, an adjective denoting quality.
• That which the English call paraffin (as in “paraffin stove”), we Americans call kerosene. Copy editors should keep an eye open for this in mss. by British authors and query it. The term paraffin should generally be reserved for the waxy, oily stuff we associate with candles.
• Prophecy is a noun; prophesy is a verb.
• Per Web 11, it’s restroom.
• The Sibyl is a seeress; Sybil is Basil Fawlty’s wife.
• Please don’t mix somewhat and something into one murky modifier. A thing is somewhat rare, or it’s something of a rarity.
• A tick bites; a tic is a twitch.
• Tortuous is twisty, circuitous, or tricky; torturous is painful, or painfully slow.
• Transsexual, not transexual.
• Troops are military; troupes are theatrical.
• A vice is depraved; a vise squeezes.
• Vocal cords; strikes a chord.
• A smart aleck is a wise guy; a mobster is a wiseguy.
• X ray is a noun; X-ray is a verb or adjective.

(via piginawig)