"Holly Lisle - Mugging The Muse" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lisle Holly)

because it is the courage to succeed.




HOLLY LISLE
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MUGGING THE MUSE: WRITING FICTION FOR LOVE AND MONEY




Section 1: PREPARATION & PRACTICE
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How I Found Myself Here, or Why I Became a Writer
I didn't set out to be a writer. I always wrote, you know, but it was just this thing I
did; what I intended was to become a terribly famous artist, perhaps with a stopover
as a singer. And I can't say I made much of a go at that. I got out of high school, and
didn't go to college. My folks had spent most of their lives telling me that college was
a waste of time and money, and that what I needed to do was get out of school and
get a job. And in spite of the fact that I graduated in the top ten in my class (not top
ten percent тАУ top ten) and had taken all college preparatory classes, I believed them.

Which turns out not to have been the only stupid mistake I made in my life that
turned out well. For the record, college is a good idea for most people, and if I still
had my heart set on being a professional artist, it would have been important for me.
Singing ... well, that takes more talent than I have, and I never wanted it enough to
fight for it anyway. I had my moment in the spotlight there and that was enough.
But getting out of school and getting a job is what you do when your life has other
plans for you, and just hasn't let you in on them yet. I discovered that the world is not
panting in breathless anticipation for eighteen-year-old high-school-graduate artists.
So I started to work at a newspaper, selling advertising. I found out quickly that I
don't like working for other people тАУ but I also acquired a little Vega station wagon
that had to be paid for. When selling advertising turned out not to be my dream job, I
dumped it for the first art job that came along. I began painting signs for a
commercial artist, and discovered that that entailed working in a cold warehouse and
dealing with people who hadn't been paid by this guy in months, and smelling
kerosene all the time, and getting chapped fingers and chapped lips and paint in the
cracks that the turpentine and the cold made in my hands. So I started teaching guitar
at a local music shop, and while I was at it, picked up a couple of gigs at local
restaurants as a singer. What I found from these jobs was that I was working lots of
HOLLY LISLE
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hours for not a lot of money, and if I ever wanted to move out of my parents' house
(and I did, let me tell you) I was going to have to do something that paid regular