May 22: Anything Descriptive, Essay Writing, Deadlines

"Anything.  Anything descriptive.  A room.  Or a house.  Or something you once lived in or something--you know.  Just as long as it's descriptive as hell."  He gave out a big yawn while he said that.  Which is something that gives me a royal pain in the ass.  I mean if somebody yawns right while they're asking you to do them a goddam favor.  "Just don't do it too good, is all," he said.  "That sonuvabitch Hartzell thinks you're a hot-shot in English, and he knows you're my roommate.  So I mean don't stick all the commas and stuff in the right place."

About the only thing Holden admits to being good at is English.  That's why his roommate, Stradlater, wants Holden to write an English class essay for him.  Holden has an actual talent for writing.  The only subject Holden isn't flunking at Pencey Prep is English.  Maybe it runs in the family, since his brother, D. B., is a professional writer.

There's a difference between having a talent and having a gift.  I think I've written about this subject before.  If I have a talent for playing the piano, that means I have to practice a lot, that it isn't second nature to me.  If I have a gift for piano playing, I can simply hear a song on the radio, sit down at a keyboard, and play it immediately, without sheet music.  Or pick up a piece of sheet music, sit at the piano, and play it flawlessly.  That's a gift.

There's only one thing I have a gift for in my life.  Writing.  I love writing, and I've never had to work hard at remembering all the grammatical rules.  They sort of always existed in my head.  That may sound strange, but it's true.  Now, whether somebody would call me a gifted poet or short story writer is a whole other issue.

I have an essay I need to write.  A nature essay.  It's for a local writing contest.  I have my idea.  I simply need to sit down and put it to paper.  I've been putting that part of the process off for the last few days.  The contest pays well, and I need to do this.  It's not just for the $250, although that would be nice.  It's for the satisfaction of putting forth my best effort, come what may.

The deadline for the contest if June 7.  I need to get my writing butt into gear.  I also got some suggestions from a writer friend last night of where I should submit my newest poetry manuscript.  I need to follow up on that information, as well.  My worry is not that I'll fail.  That's all part of writing.  My worry is that I won't even try, that I'll miss the deadlines.

Saint Marty just needs to pick up his pen and get to work.

Chocolate is always a good reward