Where will your words go?
That’s the question I want the answer to. Where will your words go. Once the social sites are gone. Once the machine gives out. Once the medium changes.
What will become of your words?
It’s the one thing. The only thing. I wanted of the person who birthed me. That I never got. I wanted access to her own story in her own words.
It’s the only thing I ever wanted that I will never get. The words, her story.
Which is why, maybe, I became a writer.
And for sure it is why I still, to this day, write.
As for writing before we die? We’re done for.
Oh, that sounds extreme. But it’s real. We’re terminal, we’re done for. Whether that’s next month or next year or a hundred years from now, we’re going to kick the buckets, go belly up the way my guppies did earlier this year or otherwise end up in a state not as ideal as the one we’re in right now.
That’s why I keep saying it could always be worse.
Because it’s true! If you’re reading this, you’re still alive.
Unless you’re a ghost. In which case, hello undead!
This is a life or death situation. I’m reminded of William Butler Yeats’ poem The Second Coming. He published it right after the second world war. And I got to listen to him read it in his own voice during my senior year in university. Why? Because my professor was a super fan and found a way to get access to the voice recording, one of the earliest poems recorded using fancy voice recorders.
He had a bombastic voice. I remember the sound of it to this day, “Turning and turning in the widening gyre, the falcon cannot hear the falconer…” and on he droned.
That wasn’t such a terrifying word back then.
I left America at the end of 2011 to save my own life.
I made it to 2014, and publish todos los días. I write to save my own life.
I reckon Anne Frank did, too.
Everyone who keeps a journal, a notebook, a diary of some form, does so for two reasons:
Of course, no writer wakes up thinking, “today! I will save a life.” No, not once have I thought that. But, when I sit in the fovel and think on it, I think. Hm. Maybe somewhere down the line someone will read this. And they’ll think, “fuck it. I’m leaving him once and for all,” or, “hey. Today’s the day.” Or, better, no best, yet.
I’m going to honest up with myself today.
If my work inspires even one soul in the world to do that – to honest up, to tell the truth, to get to know themselves at their heart or close as they can get to it – to level?
I have succeeded as a writer.
I will die knowing I have succeeded as a writer. And I will go to the earth or sky or sea with zero regrets.
May it be the same for you.
Gwendolyn de la Ciudad
Just the e-book. You get:
The living book option gets you one on one attention to your writing and craft, from me, starting in September 2014.
We start 15 September and run through 15 October.
When I get confirmation of your payment, I add your name to a custom-built-for-you Gitlab repo.
When we start, you send me your responses to prompts via a Git push and I’ll respond in-line and help you shape your technomemoir in 30 days.
Work at your own pace, just get it done in 30 days.
I’ll work at your digital side daily from 15 September to 15 October 2014.
By the end of September, you’ll have a book you’ve created with input from yours truly.
This September become a better writer.
The focus is tech and memoir. Where your human life intersects with technology.
Yo. You’re the only one who can answer that question. Because you want to become a writer. Because you are a writer and want to become a better one.
Because you want to reflect on your singular experience and then tell it in a way that others want to (perhaps) hear.
So, why do you want to write before you die? Only you can answer that. You can get the guide, write responses to all the prompts. Then step back at the end of October 2014 and say, “I wrote a book.”
It’s for you if
Write Before You Die & Let Your Words Outlive You.
There is no other time than now.