Dear Reader,
As I write this a two-hundred-page manuscript beside me. It's an ugly thing, pockmarked with red ink, riddled with post-it notes, and loose sheets of notepad paper jammed between pages like slices of meat in a sandwich. The manuscript represents 10 months of hard work and now that the writing is over the editing has begun.
The writing was the easy part.
Editing is a humbling experience. More than once during the process I’ve thrown my red pen across the room in utter disgust at my own abilities. Of course, that’s the point. Editing only works when one is willing to turn a critical eye on oneself. There, on the blank page, is a mirror and what looks back at you is the unvarnished truth, the reality that there is a gap between who we are and who we pretend to be.
Yet most of us never take the time to look in that mirror. Like Dorian Gray, we hide from the truth, hoping we never come face to face with our portrait, complete with age and wear we try to hide. We spend our time cultivating what Thomas Merton called the “false self.” An alter ego designed to hide our shadows, a mask complete with a perpetual smile, and an “all is well” optimism. As long as our skeletons linger in our closets we are free to move through the world unencumbered by the reality of our brokenness, trauma, and shame.
The French Philosopher Blaise Pascal once remarked that “all of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone.” Alone we are left to face ourselves, to remove the veneer of the false self, and face the reality of what lies behind the masks we cleverly design. With red pen in hand, we are forced to examine those parts of ourselves we like to leave alone.
It’s painful. With every turn of the page, we see more and more of what we’ve learned to ignore. It’s easy to want to give up, close the book, and let our red pens rest. But a good writer knows that editing is part of the process, and will reward those who are patient enough to see it through. All the red ink converges together to pilfer a hidden beauty from the cavern of white pages and black typeface. Similarly, when we look within and do the hard work of sitting still, we are invited to better ourselves, to see that which we can no longer afford to ignore, the vices, thought patterns, and habits that are quietly killing us. It’s hard work. But it’s also necessary, and in an age where it’s all too easy to pretend that we’re ok, we need to look inward. We’ll be better for it and if Mr. Pascal was correct the world might look a lot different.
No writer gets it all right on the first draft and humans only learn to run when first we learn to fall.
-Ryan
Recent Publications:
No new publications as of late but stay tuned for Duckhead Journal’s Fall Issue where two new poems will be appearing.
Reading Recommendations:
-Colm Toibin, The Sign of the Cross: In a series of essays written in the early 90s Irish Writer, Colm Toibin, chronicles his observations while traveling through Catholic Europe, highlighting both the beauty and problems of Catholic culture while also exploring his unique relationship to the Church. It is a fascinating exploration of the sociological aspects of religious faith and begs the question: what is the role of religion in the modern world?
Writing Update:
Often people ask me how can they support me as a writer. Beyond buying my books (which is helpful) and sharing my work (which is appreciated), the best thing anyone can do is leave a review online. Dominated by algorithms, the fate of good books is left to mathematical chance. Reviews platform books that would otherwise get overlooked by our robotic overlords. If you enjoyed my latest book, Skipping Stones, or my first book, For Those Wandering Along the Way, please leave a review on Amazon, Good Reads, etc. It would be much appreciated.