I bought this book after listening to one of Elizabeth Gilbert’s podcasts, which I liked a lot. In her podcast, she replies to letters from people who have a passion, a talent they want to pursue and are waiting for someone to shove them into it. And that’s exactly what she does. Gently yet determinedly.
Sometimes, when I feel frustrated with my job, or like I’m having so much on my plate and nothing is going the way I want it to, I have to think of one of her interviewees, who had the world’s most dreadful job, and yet she managed to get motivated to scribble a few lines in the evening, if I remember the story right. If she could do it, why shouldn’t I? Why the hell allow myself to feel so sorry about myself when there is – and that I know very well – nothing to really feel sorry about.
After listening to the podcasts, I bought the book “Big magic”, which was quite nice. I liked most of it and more specifically the concept of that story idea that has been staying with you for years, hovering over your head, and if you don’t grab it and put it down, it’ll get bored one day, feel neglected, and find someone else to write the story down. That’s when I freaked out. I was on the good road towards getting motivated to take up writing again, but there, the thought of one day reading my story written by someone else, and knowing that I had just messed it up and missed my big opportunity because I had been too lazy and overwhelmed by life to keep it locked away on my word document.
And I got to writing the story down, the story that is now done and shipped off to an editor, waiting for a review (or not, we’ll see). But at least, I wrote it, and sincerely, profoundly hope that no one else will dare write it while I’m working on the sequel to it and on publishing the first one.
I also do like to follow Elizabeth Gilbert on Facebook, as she shares some nice quotes and stories from time to time. Nothing like getting a nice word through the web from time to time.
I feel almost bad admitting thought that when I read Eat, pray, love some years ago, I wasn’t a huge fan of it. I got through it all right, but I couldn’t really understand what everyone was fretting about. I talked about this recently with a friend of mine, who had loved it, as it felt so fitting in her current state of mind and the personal situation she was living through. So I guess that when I read it, it just wasn’t feeling like the answer to any of my personal battles, so I had a hard time relating to it. Now, years later and a bit wiser, I think I might give it a try again, and be able to get much more out of the read.
That experience is proof that every little experience, every challenge you face, they all change you, little by little and make you more accepting of novelties, of the unknown and curious to discover more of it.