writing 12.22.08

Today I was having a conversation with my favorite playwright (she works with me at ye ol’ agency) and in our discussion about how much we love writing, she alighted upon the fact that the best part about it is that you don’t need anyone else to write. This thought struck me like a thunder bolt – its so obvious but its something that I’ve managed to forget this year. As I thought about it more, I began thinking about how Murakimi said writing is like running. A solitary exercise and when its done properly you are only competing against yourself. Sure there will always be other writers that you’ll compare yourself to, go to for inspiration, or admire, but really the one you should trying to beat more than anyone else is your own self.

That said I’m still working on taking Murakimi’s advice. Often times I look at my own portfolio and I wonder what I can do to make it better. What should be taken out or put in? I’ve long known that it is this act of constant revision that has me enamored with advertising – when it comes to selling yourself the job is never done. A portfolio is a creative beast with its own pulse and it is made up of what best represents you NOW. I love that ultimately your portfolio reflects how you change and grow over a lifetime in one field much like an authors collection of works. Even in one year the growth is immense.

This morning on the train I found myself reflecting on the words that I have written this year. The vast majority have not been written in the pages of my journal or in the confines of short stories but rather have been for work in the format of scripts, taglines and headlines – most of which have been killed. But again, it is that act of constant revision and striving to be better that has kept me going this year. And, as I look forward to next year I know that it is those personal writing projects that have fallen by the wayside that will also need my attention and constant revision. Because as I’ve learned this year a writer doesn’t much done outside of work without the self-discipline of a runner.