When I was a teenager, I wrote a poem for my then church magazine.  I was actually asked to write it – to write a poem about a church outing.  We’d been to a lake, so I wrote a poem about the lake.  I took my time, scribbled my stanzas, made corrections, tried to create flow.

Someone remarked upon it when it was printed and asked what had led me to write it.  I replied – someone had suggested I wrote it.  He raised his eyebrows.  ”Oh,” he said.  ”Nothing to do with inspiration, then.”

At the time, I felt rather floored by this.  I was bemused – was he teasing me, or was he genuinely being disparaging?  I still don’t know, but it wouldn’t floor me now.

Since when does inspiration preclude hard work – or vice versa?  What’s wrong with sitting down to write something because you’ve been asked to?  Come to think of it, it’s what poet laureates do all the time.  Write a poem for this or that occasion.  Would this, too, lead to raised eyebrows and a ‘nothing to with inspiration, then?’

I know we have our platitudes – 1% inspiration, 99% perspiration, etc.  I have to confess I find these clichéd phrases rather – dare I say it - uninspiring.  To me, there is an organic, dynamic relationship between the two.  Often I have to sit down and start writing with zero inspiration.  But like any train of thought, new triggers arise and I find that through the act of sitting down I am, in some way, inspired.  Of course there are days when I have to push the words out of me.  Days I feel dull.  But the crafting that takes place even within these ‘uninspired’ moments can create something that I re-read later and realise - actually, that’s not so bad – and ‘inspires’ me to think further on the subject.

What do we mean when we say ‘inspiration’?  Is it just a bolt from the blue?  A something where there was nothing?  Isn’t everything made of triggers and links and trains of thought colliding, building on something we already know and infusing it with something new?

No, I wasn’t necessarily ‘inspired’ to write this.  But does that mean it cannot be inspiring?

Any thoughts?

***

(Audio version shared via podbean.com - forgive my hesitant voice I am not practised at this yet!)

What do you think? For those of us who suffer with eyes strain or simply prefer listening to reading, I thought it might be useful. And possibly quite fun!

On a related topic, I’ve signed up for LibriVox, which is a website where you can upload recordings of books that are in the public domain. You can volunteer to read certain books, record them yourself, then upload them to the site.  I’ll let you know when I make my first proper recording!

This has meant I’ve been playing around with Audacity, and have learned a lot already about how to make  my audio recordings sound reasonable. Hence I am now in a position to record my blog posts so that you can hear them without background noise.

Let me know if you would be interested in this. I’m tempted to try it anyway because I enjoy reading aloud and I think it would be an inclusive gesture.

You may be interested to know that I am actually speaking this post and my computer is typing it for me. It’s doing quite well, although I was entertained when it substituted breeding for reading in my second paragraph!  (Go back and try saying it…!)

Proofreading is essential!

I’m experimenting with using speech recognition for typing up articles.  I was trying to write this blog post in the same way, but apparently my netbook is feeling stressed and can’t cope with the idea of multitasking at the moment. Still, in general it’s going all right – the speech recognition software that comes with Windows 7 seems better than other free software so I’ve been trying it out.  It’s giving me a sore throat though!

Am aware have not been blogging much lately…been quite busy with this, that and the other….

Came back and had a sudden energy slump.  Randomly cast my eye over 2011′s NaNoWrioMo novel. Should really go through it – I can feel the jar of the bits that need fleshing out and editing, but on the whole I like it, and actually enjoy reading it.

A friend suggested I had a National Novel Editing Month, where I could take my novel and focus on editing it for a month in the same lighthearted way I approached NaNoWriMo itself – see it as practice for the fun of it and see what happens.

Perhaps this year I should have a ‘NaNoEdMo’ in November instead, if I can cope with not writing another novel.  Part of me wants to write the sequel – last year’s is actually set up to be a series, or at least a trilogy, which was rather daring of me!  Alternatively I could take another month and label it NaNoEdMo but that would take away from writing and editing my main book…hmmm.

Food for thought, though.

Update:

Apparently there is a NaNoEdMo.  Designated month is March.  Yeech.  March is pretty busy for me…but I’ll bear it in mind. http://www.nanoedmo.net/ (@NaNoEdMo)

I SAVE THE CARDS that people send me over the years – a medley of them are scurried away in old shoeboxes. Every now and then I shuffle through them and remember forgotten stories.

One I never forget is a card sent to me by my friend in Canada – on the front it says I like you.  On the inside it says You’re not a poopy head.  The thought of it always makes me grin.  Ha!  I have proof!  I am not a poopy head! (It seems you really can get cards for any occasion).

Sometimes we need to be told that we’re okay.  That we’re liked.  That we haven’t messed up beyond all measure.  That we’re not total failures or lost causes or just plain silly.  That we’re not poopy heads.  That God never gives up on us.

So that’s my word for you today: whatever you may feel, you’re liked.  You’re loved.

You are not  a poopy head.

Cracking up and complaining

I fractured a rib for Christmas. Please, no cracker jokes. I had flu, which led to a violent cough, which led to a cracked rib. I didn’t know that was possible – well, you learn something new every Christmas, right? So, what did I do, when feverish with flu, choking with coughing, and rupturing ribs? (Not precisely accurate medically speaking, but allows for a nice bit of alliteration.) I felt the need to…tweet. Well, more specifically, grumble. Since poor hubby was ill too, grumbling at each other got a bit boring, so I hurled it into cyberspace. I tweeted. Groan, moan, OW. Not entirely content with this, I did it on Facebook too. Fishing for sympathy? But of course. I won’t deny it. My serene, elegant, uncomplaining side went offline for a while. The most vigorous complaining was reserved for my closest friends who got – wait for it – texted about it.

Comforting and Commiserating

The responses arrived on my Smartphone (I was unable to cope with computer) and were suitably soothing. Yes, it helped. When you’re stuck inside feeling horrible and ill and disgusting and can’t even speak, the power of social media takes on a different side. Be it through social media sites, or email, or simply text messaging, there is a sense that no, you’re not alone, yes, there is still a world out there, and people are rooting for you. It struck me (in the very tiny part of my brain that wasn’t grumbling) that we have so many tools for comforting those who feel isolated by illness. The digital world opens up a whole arena of communication which is especially helpful for those who feel unable to cope with phone calls or visits, their energy simply not allowing for it. A tweet, a text message, an email can lift someone’s spirits without asking anything of them. Too ill to talk to me? That’s okay. I’m just letting you know I’m here.

Communication Cop Outs?

But this won’t help everyone. For some, a text message or a tweet is a cop out. For them, they need the one to one contact. What about those who aren’t on Facebook or Twitter, who rarely text? It’s a world full of opportunity and inclusiveness – but ironically it can get horribly exclusive. Do we save our comfort and companionship just for those who are easily reached on our devices? Do we neglect those who are not part of this happy digital ‘community’? So we never get round to – dare I say it – writing a letter or a card to someone who would deeply, desperately appreciate it in a world of 140 characters or less?

Every coin has two sides. So as disciples – digi or otherwise – I believe we need to pray for discernment. Discernment to know when to use social media and when to use our own hands and feet. Understanding that while some find it the most helpful thing, others will find it the least helpful thing.  Often, a mixture of both works well. We adapt our language and behaviour with everyone in our lives.

This is not a new thing.  We’re all unique, after all.

Closed Doors

Some people won’t complain at all. They’ll keep so quiet we don’t know how much they’re hurting. They’re not going to tweet about it, post it on Facebook, or even volunteer it in casual conversation. We need to make an effort to get to know them – really know them - for ourselves. In a world where so much information is volunteered, pushed in our faces even, let’s remember those who cannot even find the words to say how they feel.

To think about:

• In what ways do you find social media helpful when life is difficult?
• Is it a valid aspect of pastoral care – if so, how and when do we use it?
• Have we neglected those outside of our digital community?
• What is appropriate to share in this way?  Where are the boundaries?

***

One thing I didn’t mention in the original post is the idea of  blogging as therapy and a form of sharing.  I think the last question has particular relevance here.  What do we share on our blogs?  What should remain private? (See also  an old entry called ‘blogging with care‘).

THIS COMMENTARY is volume 18B of the Word Biblical Commentary series.  It is the third in a sequence looking at Job, and focuses on the dialogue between Job and Yahweh himself.  I have not had the chance to look at the first two, so am unable to comment on those.

Firstly I should say that reviewing a commentary is slightly different from reviewing other types of book.  You won’t read them from front to back (certainly not with a technical commentary such as this), and people will have differing preferences as to the types of commentaries they read.

WBC commentaries are not everyone’s cup of tea, although I like to use them.  They are copiously detailed and have some heavily academic elements.  However, they are divided into sections which allow the reader to select the approach they find most helpful. Clines’ commentary uses the standard WBC framework, and for each section it gives first a bibliography, then the author’s translation, then notes (on the translation), then a section on  Form/Structure/Setting, then a detailed comment section which digs into the text in detail and considers its meaning.  It sums up with an explanation section, which is a handy overview to what has gone before and is probably the most accessible.

Despite being a scholarly volume, from what I have read it does not seem dry – Clines has a helpful, accessible tone.  It’s also good if you love digging into the biblical text and get irritated when less detailed commentaries fail to satisfy your curiosity.

As a thorough, in-depth commentary I’m not sure you could beat it – it contains an awe-inspiring if slightly daunting bibliography section, indexes of authors mentioned as well as word-related indexes.

If you really want to get to grips with this part of Job, want to know what scholars say about it and enjoy digging deep, you may well want to check this out.

I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze®.com <http://BookSneeze®.com> book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. 

The ‘taking wing on the night’ cracks me up.  And the cloudy lemonade, of course. Can’t remember when I last saw a tambourine, though.

Alas!  this video has been removed. .. sorry!  

EARLIER TODAY I was dispatching some emails as part of my role in co-editing an issue of Magnet Magazine (which comes out next year).  After writing one email pointing out what needed to be done and why, I had a moment where I got up, removed my editor’s hat and re-read it.  I had to laugh.  I went through and softened it a little.  It was so…editorish.  Which is a good thing; after all, I am an editor.  But I felt the need to temper it slightly because I am a writer too – and I know what it’s like from the other side.

I’m finding the whole experience enormously illuminating.  It doesn’t matter how much people reassure you that editors are human and don’t have fangs, there’s nothing like becoming one to get a real sense of understanding.  So as an editor and writer I can say:

• Editors want the best for their magazine. That’s why they keep tweaking at things. They want it to be good  and to fit with the rest of the magazine – in style and in relation to the rest of the content. They have guidelines they have to stick to, limits on what they can use. They haveto make difficult decisions.

• Editors want the best from you. If someone gets back to you and asks you to amend your article – this is a really positive response.  They want to use your work and they want it to work for them – and their publication.

• It really, really, really isn’t personal. Criticism of your work is not criticism of you.  In fact, if an editor points out potential problems, they’re doing you a huge favour.  They don’t need to do this.  When you can bear it, read through their comments and learn from them.  By telling you what they want, they are actually showing respect for you.

• Editors are people. They get overwhelmed and overwrought.  They have lots to juggle.  They are not carbon copies of each other.  They have different personalities and assorted characters.  They can be easy going or awkward, kind or careless.  Much like anyone.  Including writers.

If you are a writer and the opportunity comes up for you to get some editorial experience, I’d say – grab it.  Not only does it help you understand how the process works, it helps you understand the people behind the process.  Understanding lessens our fears and anxieties and helps us cope with criticism and rejection of our work. ( Note I say of our work - not us.  In fact, I think we need a better word – rejection does sound so very personal.  Anyone up for inventing a new bit of vocab so that we can think of the whole process more positively?)

So – swap hats once in a while.  It’s refreshing and can make the other easier to wear.