I’ve done a lot of free writing over the years. It’s liberating to give myself over toimpulse and intuition and surprise myself on the page. The kinetic spark of images, sensory details, and flitting thoughts, all firing in my mind with abandon, is exhilarating. This kind of fun usually results in writing that must be wholely revised andscrupulously edited, of course. Sometimes I find I can’t use it at all. Occasionally, quiteunexpectedly, I read it and discover I’ve written something quite lyrical and lovely. But mostoften, I see that I’ve given myself material snatched from the air and the psyche and thezeitgeist that can be richly used in other forms. What I’m doing now, though, requires another sort of brave abandon. I’m giving away my writing for free. Not freely, as in I share it with many friends. But truly freely. I’msharing it online so that any reader anywhere in the world can read it. Absolutely for free.Does this mean I value my writing less, or value readers more? I don’t think so. I havethe same complex relationship with my writing that I’ve always had. And I couldn’t possibly prize readers, like you, any more now than I’ve lusted after you all my life.So, what’s brought about this new kind of free writing?I’ve lost my patience. I’ve lost my faith. I’ve lost my awe. And I’ve found the air sofresh on the other side of all the newly opening e-doors that I’m intoxicated by it.My patience is thin these days because I’m ill. I’m living with metastatic breast cancerin my lungs. I’m lucky. I’m feeling well for now. I’m doing a pretty easy hormonal treatment.I may stay lucky for a long time. But I’ve got this terrible door threatening to close, a muchmore drastic door than any publication door closing in my face. So, I’m just not going tofool around any more, seeking the ever elusive imprimatur of a traditional publisher.
Free Writing an essay about opening the door Janet FerencePage 1