I am a nervous person. I can admit this. I check at night to make sure I’ve locked the front door. I sometimes say “I have unplugged the curling iron” after I have unplugged it, so I don’t leave the house and worry about it for the rest of the day.

I really think I left it plugged in
I have a few superstitions. I turn over pennies when I see them heads-up. I throw salt behind my back. And I rarely talk about what I’m writing while I’m in the middle of it.
Of course, that’s only part superstition. Louis Sachar, the much-beloved author of the much-beloved Sideways Stories From Wayside School, never talks about his work either. He’s even more serious about it than I am. I heard an interviewer once try to tease the plot of Holes out of him but he stood firm. Here’s what he told Something About the Author:
…by working on a book for a year without talking about it–even to my wife–the story keeps building inside, until it’s bursting to be told and the words come pouring out when I sit down to write.
There’s something to that pressure cooker he describes. I always want to show people what I’m writing if I think I’m in the middle of something good, and sometimes little paragraphs or snippets do get forwarded or mentioned in emails or conversation. I wonder if keeping it all to myself is worth missing the little notes of encouragement that can turn a short project into a longer one.
These thoughts go against the blog culture a little. I’ve tried to talk about new work before, but the more long-term a project is for me, the less likely I want to say anything about it. On the other hand, I really like hearing writer friends talk about their new work, and things they’re cogitating. It inspires and pushes me, and reminds me that everyone is walking on their different roads every day. I like it when people talk shop in general, though I get a little sick of myself when I try to talk large about What We Should Be Writing And/Or Thinking About. I’d rather complain about the price of lox in Central Texas.
I would like to strike some kind of balance. I want to spark and participate in conversations about writing that have a significance to my own work, but I don’t want to get so close to the work that it starts to feel the heat of the torch I’m carrying.
I think that anyone who’s worried about their blogging is wasting their time. Next question? (JCO via CL)
Didn’t know this: Louis Sachar lives in my town and visits the local bridge club three or four times a week. Funny little world!