"Bird by Bird" (1994) is the typical memoir intertwined with a specific interest, in this case, that of writing. Anne Lammott has written several books, yet she became well-known with this one. It gives us an understanding of her ideas about the act of writing, thus seeking to convey to this book part of what she teaches in her creative writing classes.

The tone is informal, with good comic touches, which makes the reading not only light but also smooth. For those who are looking for inspiration to write, I think they will find a lot to amuse themselves here. From my side, I found some interesting techniques and methods regarding narrative construction.

In the final count, the book works very well, but I place it a few points below "On Writing" (2000) by Stephen King, namely due to some excess of sentiment and less formalization of the working methods.

With excerpts: https://experiencianarrativa.wordpress.com/2023/12/17/escrever-pouco-a-pouco/

Lamott's teaching approach leaves much to be desired. Her students look at her with a mix of confusion and disappointment. She claims they need an agent, but then offers little else. She doesn't seem to have the patience or empathy to truly teach. Instead, she's like a self-centered piano teacher who shows off rather than instructs.

Lamott constantly complains about the writing process, yet she had an easy start with access to an agent and a patient teacher. Her descriptions of her "struggles" are like those of a wealthy person complaining about the stress of having too much money. She also complains about her students, using derogatory terms like "mewling."

Lamott's own experiences are filled with opportunities that many writers can only dream of. She gets calls to appear on TV shows, writes articles for magazines, and has her work published. But she doesn't share any practical advice on how to achieve these things. Instead, she uses the teaching process as a platform to talk about herself and her own life.

In conclusion, Lamott's book is a waste of time. Her recipe for literary success is based on having the right connections and writing about personal tragedies. She doesn't offer any real "how to" advice, and her constant self-promotion and denigration of others make her an unappealing teacher. Save your money and find someone else to learn from.

[My students] stare at me like the cast of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest…Finally someone will raise his or her hand. “Can you send your manuscripts directly to a publisher, or do you really need an agent?”

After a moment or so, I say, You really need an agent… Most of them nod. This is why they are here: they love to read, they love good writing, they want to do it, too. But a few of the students are still looking at me with a sense of betrayal or hopelessness, as if they are thinking of hanging themselves. Too late for a refund, I tell them cheerfully, but I have something even better…

Truth is, Lamott doesn’t offer “something even better.” She does not have the patience or empathy necessary to teach. She’s like a piano teacher who rolls her eyes after a novice student plays one or two measures, pushes the student off the bench to show “how it’s done.” As the student slowly gets up rubbing their elbow, she plays and talks about how it’s agony to practice, how it’s agony to get gigs, how all these famous musicians talk to her about her gigs and talent and how it’s not enough. It eventually dawns on the student she’s not going to teach anything. You’re just what she wanted: a paying audience to shut up and enjoy her stories. She believes she is so clever when, in fact, she’s cruel. You’ll leave the lesson having wasted your money and having your dreams ridiculed.

Lamott continually bemoans how miserable the writing process is, how cut-throat. Yet, she had access to a literary agent and a patient teacher (her father) at her start. Publication was easy for her. In fact, her descriptions of her “struggles” is like a wealthy person lounging by their luxurious pool talking to their servant: “Oh, you don’t want wealth, Julio, the stress of having so much money. You want to live life day by day, enjoy a good sunrise and sunset. I saw one on my annual trip to Ibiza, stunning. But the hotel staff were so…you know, provincial. One actually hooked the keys to my Benz in the wrong spot. When this dented Volkswagon drove up, I was like, ‘Uh, that’s not mine.’”

Lamott complains about her students—her favorite adjective for them is “mewling.” She notes a group which attended her course still meet weekly to discuss their writing: “All four of them are excellent writers, but only one of them has been published at all, and that was just one article. But you know what? They love each other.” Lamott notes: “Publication is not going to change your life or solve your problems. Publication will not make you more confident or more beautiful, and it will probably not make you any richer.” Then she talks about herself, her worries, her “problems,” which, Dear Budding Writer, are just like yours…

Six or seven years ago I was asked to write an article on the Special Olympics.

I had a brainstorm: I would mail the third section off, borrow the money to fly to New York, and spend a week there, doing the line editing of the book with my editor and, at the same time, getting away from this man I was breaking up with. Also, I could collect the last third of the advance that Viking owed me and do a little retail therapy in New York City.

Last summer I got a call from a producer in New York who wanted me to fly east two days later, stay in town overnight, do her TV talk show, and fly home.

Whenever I’m giving a lecture at a writing conference and happen to mention the benefits of finding someone to read your drafts, at least one older established writer comes up to me and says that he or she would never in a million years show his or her work to another person before it was done.

One of the best writers I know has a wife…

Two other writers I know use each other.

A magazine editor recently asked me to write an essay about being a lifelong Giants fan, which I have been, but the anxiety about publication made my mind go suddenly blank.

Of course, not everyone loved my book. There were some terrible reviews…”Here’s your review from Santa Barbara,” my editor wrote on a note enclosed with it, “where people never die.”

So I started typing up the journal entries and sending them off to my agent.

Brice died that May. A month or so later I had the opportunity to write a three-minute essay for a radio show on anything I wanted, and I asked Brice’s parents if it would feel like an invasion of privacy if I wrote about their son.

And get this: Lamott gives the text of her radio essay and it’s about bringing her baby to see the body of dead baby Brice and recording his profound reaction: “He’s a good baby.” Afterwards, they go bowling. I shit you not.

So why so many five stars for this trash? I don’t know. She told us at the very beginning students wouldn’t get a refund and some felt like hanging themselves—but she’s doesn’t understand why the shiny examples drawn from her writer’s life coupled with her zany, quirky humor doesn’t dazzle and enlighten. She’s not teaching anything—she’s using the instruction process as a means to regale a captive audience about herself with a few sprinklings of clichés and pithy slogans. She denigrates her friends, the special ed population, the French, people from the south, the Dallas-Fort Worth airport, her students. Notice all her great, useful quotes start with “a friend told me” or “a black lady told me” or “my fat gay priest friend told me” or “a really great writer told me.” Sometimes she names her friends and priests, sometimes she doesn’t. The upshot is she’s pilfering great quotes or images, often without giving the authors credit. Towards the middle of her “lesson,” you begin to wonder why you can’t name a single novel she has written, can’t recall a single book she’s noted for other than Bird by Bird. She’s a hack, that’s why. She needs the money; more importantly, she needs the audience.

Now, before I sign off, I’ll save you the cost of this book by revealing Lamott’s recipe for literary success:

(1)\\tHave a father who is a published writer.

(2)\\tHave father die of cancer. Write about father dying of cancer and send it to father’s literary agent.

(3)\\tHave a friend die of cancer. Write about friend dying of cancer and fill the niche of “funny books about cancer.”

(4)\\tDon’t expect to be published and don’t entreat Lamott to read your shitty stories. Find someone else and accept the fact you will likely wallow in mediocrity but at least you’ll avoid all the stress of being a published writer like Lamott.

That’s it. There’s no “how to.” Each chapter starts with a problem a burgeoning writing likely faces, but each chapter ends with a long anecdote about what a wonderful, zany life Lamott has as a writer. She’s a waste of time.

My most highly recommended book for writers is one that truly has the power to transform your perspective. It's the kind of book that makes you realize that knowing you can write "a shitty first draft" is an absolute game-changer.

This book is written in an honest and authentic memoir style. It takes you on a journey through the author's own experiences, sharing the trials and tribulations of the writing process. You'll find yourself nodding along, relating to the self-doubt, the false starts, and the moments of inspiration that come out of nowhere.

What makes this book so special is its ability to give you permission to be imperfect. It encourages you to embrace the chaos of the first draft and not be afraid of making mistakes. Because, as the author so wisely points out, every great piece of writing starts with a shitty first draft. It's only through the process of revision and refinement that it evolves into something truly remarkable.

If you're a writer looking for that extra boost of confidence and a fresh approach to your craft, this is the book for you. It'll remind you that writing is a process, and that even the most successful writers have had their fair share of shitty first drafts. So, go ahead and pick up this book, and let it change your life as a writer.

So with this one I'm going against the grain.

I think I understand why this is a writing classic. It offers practical advice, supported by numerous examples, metaphors, and analogies to enhance comprehension. However, it failed to impart any new knowledge to me. Perhaps the lessons it conveys have become so deeply ingrained that the original text now seems superfluous.

The writing, in my opinion, appeared overdone. The abundance of examples, metaphors, and analogies began to grate on my nerves. I prefer the simplest表达方式. I don't require convoluted sentences of 500 words to convey something that could be said in 10 words.

Moreover, the voice didn't strike me as natural. I understand that writers adopt a persona when discussing their private lives to achieve the necessary detachment for self-expression. But in Lamott's case, it seemed as if she had two personas: the writer and the teacher. It felt as though she was a first-grade teacher attempting to teach me the alphabet, which made me feel patronized. It seemed that most of the earlier chapters were her standard lecture from her writing classes, and perhaps she felt the need to embellish them, resulting in the overwriting.

I don't question her status as a good writer. I enjoyed much of the personal content. It's just that whenever she delved into writing-related topics, I winced. It all seemed to boil down to the variation: "Get off your lazy butt and write. Everything will work out after that."

Ugh.

I used to have a passion for writing. I would spend hours penning down my thoughts and ideas, losing myself in the creative process. However, at some point, I took a break from it. Maybe it was due to a lack of inspiration or perhaps other commitments got in the way.

During this time away from writing, someone recommended a particular book to me, hoping it would reignite my passion and inspire me. But to my disappointment, it had the exact opposite effect.

The author, Lamott, made writing sound like an excruciating and painful experience, similar to passing a kidney stone. It was as if she was trying to deter people from taking up writing rather than encourage them.

But the truth is, writing doesn't have to be that way. It can be a joyous and fulfilling activity. It's a way to express ourselves, to share our stories and connect with others. We should not let the negative views of others cloud our perception of this wonderful art form.

I highly recommend this book, especially for those who have aspirations of becoming writers. For me personally, I am not a writer in any sense (even though I frequently dream of being a great one), so a significant portion of the book didn't hold particular relevance to me. However, throughout the book, she does have numerous charming stories and delightful pieces of advice. There is depth and humor, and I truly appreciated her open writing style. I am very glad that I read it.

Here is the beautiful story that lies behind the title:

“Thirty years ago, my older brother, who was ten years old at that time, was attempting to write a report on birds. He had been given three months to complete this task, but it was due the very next day. We were at our family cabin in Bolinas. He was sitting at the kitchen table, on the verge of tears, surrounded by binder paper, pencils, and unopened books about birds. He was completely immobilized by the enormity of the task that lay ahead. Then, my father sat down beside him, put his arm around my brother's shoulder, and said, 'Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.'\\"

This simple yet profound advice has stuck with me and is one of the many reasons why this book is worth reading.

Ugh. What a self-absorbed, whiny, little memoir this is, written under the guise of being a book about writing.

The author clearly has some self-esteem issues, which she is sure every other writer out there also struggles with. (Note to author: Not true. Perhaps you need to stop expending energy trying to convince yourself that your high level of self-deprecation is normal, and seek help instead.)

I hate, hate, hate memoirs, because everyone these days seems to think their lives are exciting enough that the whole world wants to read about it. Yawn. So, upon discovering that this book was mainly filled with personal anecdotes and reflections from the author's life (both writing related and otherwise...seriously, do other readers actually care that she has trouble keeping her houseplants alive?), I started skimming.

Some of her personal stories bordered on the horrifying, such as the friend she has who takes other people's pets to be euthanized when the pets get too old or sick. Other stories show just how shallow the author is, such as when she tells a friend they can no longer actually be friends because said friend has become successful and actually wants to *gasp!* talk about the exciting things going on in her life. Jealousy, anyone?

Here's the essential message of the entire book, wrapped up in one sentence: "It's OK to suck, because I do, and I've managed to be semi-successful while full of neurosis and only a small amount of talent." This book seems to be more of a platform for the author to air her personal gripes and insecurities rather than a useful guide on writing or a captivating memoir. It fails to engage the reader on any meaningful level and leaves a rather sour taste in the mouth.

This is truly an enjoyable read and a lovely book.

Anne Lamott is an extremely engaging writer. Her writing is characterized by a wonderful combination of being very funny, brutally honest, and deeply heartfelt.

Although I don't have the aspiration to be a writer in the traditional sense, like most readers, there have been moments in my life when I've entertained the thought of being a writer.

I really took to heart her advice that at some point, one has to make a decision whether to be a reader or a writer. I had already made that choice, but her words solidified my decision even further for me.

The "bird by bird" philosophy that is espoused in this book is not limited to just the realm of writing. It can be applied to all kinds of endeavors in life.

It serves as a valuable reminder that we should take things one step at a time, not get overwhelmed by the enormity of a task, and just keep moving forward, bit by bit.

This book is not only about writing but also about life and how to approach our goals and dreams with patience and perseverance.

This is the book that truly made me aspire to be a writer. I read it during my incarceration, serving time for armed robbery charges. It was handed to me by a rather large, tattooed neo-nazi. He said, "ya gotta read this. It hella beautiful."

Back then, I had no idea that I wanted to be a writer. There simply wasn't much to do while locked up. Contrary to popular belief, jail time consists mostly of long stretches of boredom, interrupted by bits of extreme violence. I spent months confined to a cell for twenty-three hours a day.

Moreover, I hadn't been reading or writing for the last fifteen years when I was out there as a strung-out junkie. I entered county jail almost illiterate, which was mind-boggling considering I'd been to art school and obtained a BA before my descent into addiction. It had been years since I'd painted, drawn, or even thought about creating anything. Heroin had pretty much killed all that in me.

However, as time passed and my mind cleared, something stirred within me, and I began reading everything I could get my hands on. The problem was that the available books were of crappy literature like Louis L'amour, Jackie Collins, and Robert Ludlum. Nevertheless, it didn't matter. I could escape the boredom and insanity by reading. At night, I wrote in a journal, mostly angry ramblings, blaming everyone but myself for my predicament.

When I enrolled in an adult education creative writing class, I knew I'd found my medium for creation. And when I read Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird, it just solidified the deal, and I haven't stopped writing since.

One day, one of those famous girls came to my house with me after school to spend the night. When we arrived, I saw my parents were happy because of the arrival of my father's new novel, which had just come out from the printing house as the first hot-off-the-press copy. We were extremely excited and felt proud, and it seemed that the girl also thought I had the best father that a person could have: a writer father. (Her own father sold cars.) Then we happily went to the living room, where we also had a drink to celebrate and had a great time. The situation of my family couldn't be better, and now a friend was also there and saw all these things.

That night, before we went to bed, I went to get that new novel and started reading the first page of it for my friend. We were also huddled together, inside our sleeping bags, stretching out on the floor of my room. Then it was revealed that the first page of that novel was about a man and a woman who were in bed together and engaged in passionate lovemaking. The man in the novel was playing with the tips of the woman's breasts. I built up to a nervous state that kept reaching a climax and burst into laughter. While my mouth was wide open up to my ears, I looked at my friend and thought to myself, "Oh, how wonderful this is!" Like Charlie Chaplin, who blushed with embarrassment, I covered my mouth with one hand and thought that this was the moment to put that pornographic book behind me. As I turned my head back to laugh heartily, I thought that this was a battle; my father was writing pornography.

Once I asked the American writer, Eitan Kane, to tell me the most precious thing he knew about writing, and he replied calmly, "There is nothing more important than a beloved reader. Nothing makes a story more enduring and lasting than that." I think he is right. If your reader is someone whose special understanding and perception of things and events fascinates you. It will no longer matter that not much has happened in the narration of the incident for a long time. I can sit for an hour and watch Anthony Hopkins wash dishes, without the need for other things to happen as well. Having a beloved reader is like having a great friend that you love to have a friendship with, you love their mind, their opinions about current affairs are opinions that completely capture your attention, someone who makes you promise to laugh out loud and you always want to hear what they have to say. When you have a friendship like this, they can say to you, "Hey, I'm going to start my car and go to the landfill in San Francisco. Do you want to come with me?" And you can't justly think of anything else in this world that is more attractive than going to the landfill.

This is the best true story about giving (fear and hesitation) that I know, and Jack Kornfield has relayed it from the Spirit Rock Care Center located in Woodacre. There was an eight-year-old boy who had a younger sister, and this sister was dying of leukemia. They had told the boy that without a blood transfusion, his sister would die. The boy's parents explained to him that his blood was probably compatible with his sister's blood, and if that was the case, he could be a blood donor. They asked the boy if they could test his blood? The boy said of course they could. So they tested his blood and found that it was compatible with his sister's blood. Then they asked the boy if he was willing to give his sister a pint, about 500 cc, of blood, and they said that this might be his sister's only chance to survive. The boy said that he had to think about it that night.

The next day, the boy went to his parents and said that he was willing to donate his blood. So they took him to the hospital. There, the boy was put to bed on a special bed next to his six-year-old sister. Each of them was connected to a device and tubes for blood transfer. The nurse came and drew a pint of blood from the boy, which was then put into the device for transferring blood to the girl. Just as the blood was being dripped into his sister's body drop by drop, the boy was lying quietly on his bed. At that moment, the doctor came over to check on his condition. When the boy realized that the doctor had come, he opened his eyes and asked, "How much longer until I die?"

I'm reaching a stage where I've perused a number of books on the writing life penned by various authors. And I discovered that this particular one by Anne Lamott really struck a chord with me at this juncture of my writing career. In fact, I found myself underlining several of her statements and thinking, "I must reread this to better soak up its essence."

Perhaps the most significant aspect that I wish to convey from her book, and which I wholeheartedly embrace, is her contention that novels ought to possess hope. I've spent numerous years pondering what repels me in a great deal of the "literary" fiction I encounter. It's the fact that most of it is dismal and "hopeless," despite being written with exquisite emotion. As an adult and a writer, I've outgrown the need for escapism that motivated my reading as a child and young adult. However, I haven't outgrown the need for hope. I truly don't have any more time to squander on stories that leave me feeling despondent and gloomy at the conclusion.

Ms. Lamott also expounds on writing as a spiritual pursuit, and this is another belief that I share. If not approached as a form of "candy making" (her term, not mine), then writing nourishes the soul like nothing else. And this, above all else, is what truly matters, not some illusory, nearly unattainable success in terms of publishing, renown, and wealth.

I've been hearing about this book for years as a writing guide. However, it is almost equally a memoir or collection of anecdotes about the writing life.

Some parts of it really worked for me, while other parts didn't. The author has a very different type of brain than I do. The chapters on working through the anxiety, neurosis, and depression she suffered from when trying to write didn't really resonate with me at all. I also didn't enjoy the handful of flippant jokes about killing oneself when the writing isn't going well.

Nevertheless, there are also some genuinely really moving pieces. For example, the parts about writing books as gifts to loved ones, especially those who are soon to leave us. I thought a lot of the advice in the middle was really solid. It focused on details, recording memories, research, and character development. I want to keep some of it in mind when I start developing my next book.

Moreover, there was a set of lines in the introduction that really hit the nail on the head. It was about how writers are able to participate in public life while also working from home and without leaving the house. This is exactly why I entered this career!