My brother-in-law recently shared with me this article from the New Yorker, because he knows my struggle with the writer’s life and knows how much I would savor it. And yes, I loved the article. Everyone should read it, even if you are not a writer because fundamentally it is general life advice that all young people can take. Here are some tidbits I especially latched on to and want to share:
“While all old people have been young, no young people have been old, and this troubling fact engenders the frustration of all parents and elders, which is that while you can describe your experience you cannot confer it. It’s tempting nonetheless to pose as an expert– and in another way its tempting to say, ‘I know nothing that you don’t already know.’ Neither of these postures is right. Every stage of life longs for others. When one is young and eager, one aspires to maturity, and everyone older would like nothing better than to be young. We have equal things to teach each other. Life is most transfixing when you are awake to diversity…. The worst mistake anyone can make is to perceive any one else as lesser. The deeper you look into other souls– and writing is primarily an exercise in doing just that– the clearer people’s inherent dignity becomes.”
“Never forget that the truest luxury is imagination, and that being a writer gives you the leeway to exploit all of the imagination’s curious intricacies, to be what you were, what you are, what you will be, and what everyone else is or was or will be, too.”
And this quote from Rilke: “If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself, tell yourself that you are not poet enough to call forth its riches; for to the creator there is no poverty and no poor or unimportant place.”
And again, Andrew Solomon, “This is what I will say to you most urgently: there are many obvious differences between middle age and youth, between having lived more and done more and being newly energized and fresh to the race. But the greatest difference is patience. Youth is notoriously impatient, even though there is no need for impatience early on, when people have the time to be patient.”
“Despite every advancement, language remains the defining nexus of our humanity; it is where our knowledge and hope lie. It is the precondition of human tenderness, mightier than the sword, but also infinitely more subtle and urgent. Remember that writing things down makes them real; that it is nearly impossible to hate anyone whose story you know; and, most of all, that even in our post-postmodern era, writing has a moral purpose. With twenty-six shapes arranged in varying patterns, we can tell every story known to mankind, and make up all the new ones– indeed, we can do so in most of the world’s tongues. If you can give language to experiences previously starved for it, you can make the world a better place.”