In progress without a purpose

In an interview with the Danish author and poet Søren Ulrik Thomsen in the Danish weekly newspaper Weekendavisen on the day before Christmas Eve, I read a very nice passage (in my own, most likely inadequate, translation):

I find that when you write, you do not quite know what you're doing. If you knew what you wanted to say, there was no reason to write it, as it would have been there already.

I've pretty much heard it from Thomsen before: that there is something in the poem, which is not in the poet, but when it becomes drafted in the above manner - and even followed up with:

When the book as written, you are as the author also its first reader. Then, you can spot some contexts, which were not aware existed while writing.

- it is as if something falls into place for me. Maybe it actually would be better to write something where one does not quite know what one does, instead of always trying to be in full control of the purpose of writing? Maybe thereby, one could see some of the contexts one did not know existed before things got written down?
(Translated from I færd uden formål)

On the topic of constructive waiting time

A lot of people are concerned about the fear of the blank page - about having the urge or need to write, but not be able to do so.
I feel privileged not to suffer from such anxiety, and I think I know why. I am well aware that inspiration is something that can not be forced, inspiration is something one has to wait for, and use the time waiting constructively.
If at the same time, one has a plethora of stuff on the reading list, this is a match almost too good to be true. For how to spend time better while looking for inspiration, than by seeking inspiration, for example by reading something one finds interesting?
One should not wait for inspiration with idle hands. On the other hand, inspiration should not be left waiting when it arrives.
It will obviously not always turn up in an opportune moment, but as a minimum, enough key words must be written down to enable rediscovery of the inspiration when time and quiet is available to get it translated into text.
(Translated from Noget om konstruktiv ventetid, originally published February 2nd, 2010)

Promises made to readers

Image courtesy of pixabay / MiraDeShazer

I saw a very interesting video the other day, where professor Adam Grant visits author Daniel Pink in the latter's backyard, and they speak on the topic of "writing books". A particularly exciting sequence comes towards the end, where Daniel Pink talks about an editor who had commented a passage of 4-5,000 words that do not quite work, by asking Pink consider what promise he actually makes to his readers.
And then it becomes interesting how Pink reflects on the question:

I'm asking the reader to say: oh, no matter, what you are doing in your life, just stop. Please stop, spend how ever long it takes, 20 minutes, half an hour, with me, because it is more important than anything else you're doing - more important than doing your work, more important than exercising, more important than spending time with your family - just spend that time with me, and it will be a better use of your time. And you're like "whoa, wait a second, I'm actually making the promise that that's the case, I better deliver on that promise."

It is very beautifully and accurately put. Because that's what it's all about: in this world where time is often regarded as our most precious resource, we are wasting people's resources if we make them read something for a span of time they could have used for something better.

It is one thing that all those of us who carry an unhatched author inside, should think carefully about.
As well as, for that matter, something that one as a blogger should keep in mind. If we haven't got something important to say, we should remain silent. Alternatively refrain from wondering why no one reads what we write.
(Translated from Løftet til læserne)