I had a conversation at the weekend about writing. The conversation started with me expressing a desire to write a book some day. I said that I had this short story that I wrote in college that I would like to flesh out and turn into a book. The person I was talking to said the best writing is when it is honest and contains personal experience.
That got me to thinking about how honest people really are when they write (or in everyday life), be it in a diary or a blog. Do we really write out our deepest, most intimate thoughts? Or do we hold back for fear that someone might find them (in the case of a diary) or judge us publicly (in the case of a blog).
For instance, I have kept a journal since I was a teenager. I have written some things over the years that I have never said to another soul. To an extent that was being honest with myself, but in secret. Having re-read some of the journals that I kept I also wrote some stuff that wasn't completely honest but justified my actions at the time.
If I were to write a memoir and was 100% honest, I don't think any publisher would go near it. And no reader would find it interesting or of benefit to their own life. Nothing of great significance has happened yet in my life (I'm not ruling out the possibility of something happening in the future). But I think, if I were to write a semi fictional memoir, one that is based on my own experience but has a hint of imagination and a dash of fiction it could be a much more interesting and sellable read.That brings me back to my original question: Are we ever truly honest?
In the interest of experiment (and at the risk of exposing too much about myself) I'll get the ball rolling with some honesty:
1) I had my heart broken at 19. The short story I wrote in college was semi based on that situation. I am not discussing the events that led to the heartbreak on this blog, but I will say that I still care greatly for that person and sometimes miss him terribly. (After reading the story myself over the weekend I have decided that it will stay a short story as it is and never be seen by the light of day. The story is finished so there is no need to drag it out.)
2) I find Dublin an extremely lonely and isolating place. After nine years I can count my good friends on one hand. I wouldn't change them for the world yet still I wonder why I find it so hard to widen that circle. Surely I can't be the only person to feel this way, yet nobody ever says it. And people don't want to hear it.
3) I have a tendency to take it quite personally when people make a judgement call on me and decide they don't like me without taking the time to really get to know me. That may be linked to honest point #2 above, but I'm working on it. I remember someone telling me once that other people's opinion of me is none of my business. I try to remember that.
Another question I started to wonder about was "Is it always wise to be totally honest?". For example, if someone shares a piece of writing with you and asks for your opinion is it better to tell them straight out that you hated it (if that is the case) or is it better to bend the truth and let them down gently.
I have a friend who has asked my opinion on relationship issues. I don't know why she asks because a) I'm no Carrie Bradshaw and in no position to give relationship advice, and b) she never likes my honest opinion. So should I tell her what she wants to hear, or what she asked for... my opinion?
I have another friend who will ask me anything from what I really thought of her ex to should she get that 12 week permanent hair straightening treatment. She asks me such questions because, in her words, I am "the only person who will give me their honest opinion."
That's me. If you ask me to tell you something honestly, I will. Will I tell myself something honestly though? Well, that is a conversation for another day.
Tuesday 31 May 2011
Thursday 19 May 2011
Memoirs of a Race(a) - Run Kildare 2011
With June 6th fast approaching, two weeks ago I decided it was time to up the game in the running stakes. So, with the guidance of Run Like a Girl (RLaG) ace Raedi Higgins, I jumped from 5km to 7km. That is not as easy as it sounds. With the help of a friend I have kept at the 7km distance... he upped the pace one night. My legs didn't know what hit them.
I then decided it was time to do an actual race to get an idea of what I'm facing at the mini marathon. So I signed up for the Run Kildare 10km last weekend. Before the race there was a feeling of great excitement and nervousness. Would I really be able to do this? How long would it take? What will it feel like when I finish? Would I wimp out at the last minute? The excited, nervous feeling left me unable to sleep on Saturday night, so when 6am rolled around on Sunday morning it felt more like having to get up for work on Monday. After some "I don't want to get up" whining I dragged myself out of bed, had a small breakfast and headed off to Kildare, stopping en route to collect another RLaG-er.
We got to the Curragh around 9am and the race started around 9.45am. There was a huge bustle of excitement at the racecourse. Men and women of all ages were stretching and warming up, ready to take on the challenge. Irish summers being what the are, the weather was awful. It was wet and cold. Thankfully the rain stopped just before the race started and held off for the duration.
When the horn sounded to start the race, all 800+ of us headed off down the entrance to the racecourse and out onto the Curragh. Passing the marker for the first km I though, "This isn't so bad." Passing 3km I thought, "See, you can do this." Between 3km and 7km there was another entrant who kept passing me out and getting a bit of distance, then she would stop and walk. Then I'd pass her out and the whole thing would start again. I started to get competitive in my head and told myself I wasn't coming in behind her! Somewhere after 5km I hit a glitch, I pulled one of my glutes which slowed me to a walk for a while. There was no way I was walking the rest of the race though so altered my pace between running and walking quickly. Most of the race was spent running into the wind as well which added to the difficulty (and the fun).
When I came within about 2km of the finish line I got a sudden burst of joy and energy. I was about to finish my first 10km race. Six months ago I'd have been the first to laugh at the idea. Coming up to the finish line was amazing. People lined on either side of the track cheering you on, the Chariots of Fire theme playing in my head. After crossing the finish line, finding Elaine and getting our medals we headed back to Dublin, delighted with ourselves. I went into town to meet my Dad and sister and treated myself to gluten free pizza. I was in bed by 8.30pm that night, exhausted, but so glad that I had done the race.
I can't wait for the mini marathon!
I then decided it was time to do an actual race to get an idea of what I'm facing at the mini marathon. So I signed up for the Run Kildare 10km last weekend. Before the race there was a feeling of great excitement and nervousness. Would I really be able to do this? How long would it take? What will it feel like when I finish? Would I wimp out at the last minute? The excited, nervous feeling left me unable to sleep on Saturday night, so when 6am rolled around on Sunday morning it felt more like having to get up for work on Monday. After some "I don't want to get up" whining I dragged myself out of bed, had a small breakfast and headed off to Kildare, stopping en route to collect another RLaG-er.
We got to the Curragh around 9am and the race started around 9.45am. There was a huge bustle of excitement at the racecourse. Men and women of all ages were stretching and warming up, ready to take on the challenge. Irish summers being what the are, the weather was awful. It was wet and cold. Thankfully the rain stopped just before the race started and held off for the duration.
When the horn sounded to start the race, all 800+ of us headed off down the entrance to the racecourse and out onto the Curragh. Passing the marker for the first km I though, "This isn't so bad." Passing 3km I thought, "See, you can do this." Between 3km and 7km there was another entrant who kept passing me out and getting a bit of distance, then she would stop and walk. Then I'd pass her out and the whole thing would start again. I started to get competitive in my head and told myself I wasn't coming in behind her! Somewhere after 5km I hit a glitch, I pulled one of my glutes which slowed me to a walk for a while. There was no way I was walking the rest of the race though so altered my pace between running and walking quickly. Most of the race was spent running into the wind as well which added to the difficulty (and the fun).
When I came within about 2km of the finish line I got a sudden burst of joy and energy. I was about to finish my first 10km race. Six months ago I'd have been the first to laugh at the idea. Coming up to the finish line was amazing. People lined on either side of the track cheering you on, the Chariots of Fire theme playing in my head. After crossing the finish line, finding Elaine and getting our medals we headed back to Dublin, delighted with ourselves. I went into town to meet my Dad and sister and treated myself to gluten free pizza. I was in bed by 8.30pm that night, exhausted, but so glad that I had done the race.
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