Writing a Book.

Is hard.

I’ve learned something about myself: I’ve never done anything that’s been really hard. I’m that sort of person that you hate, who doesn’t have to try hard, who just kind of glides through things. Writing my book is hard.

In fact, it’s so hard sometimes it seems impossible. Everyday I change the title, everyday this book changes me. A few weeks ago, when I set out to write it at the Chelsea Hotel, it was called True That: A Modern Girl’s Journey From Loss To Magic To Enlightenment and I had a firm grasp on the subject matter. I was completely running the show.

Last week my work became known as The Book of Joe: According to Me and the subject matter started to slip out of my hands. It also got uncomfortably personal. It is a true story, but I didn’t plan on it being so personal.

I had told only told one person I was writing a book and sitting around with my family and closest friends on Thanksgiving, I realized I should mention it. “So, I’m writing I book” I said to no one in particular and everyone. “If by some chance you might recognize somebody like yourself when you read it…. that’s because it’s probably you.” This was met with smiles and giggling so I took it a step further…. “So… when I’m discussing this with Oprah and the girls on The View, you’re all OK with this…” Smiles & Giggles. So… I can cross that off my “Things My Family and Friends Will Hate Me For List.”

Today, the new title is MAKE ME and the book is completely out of my control. It’s so personal that things I don’t even remember are writing themselves on the pages. I write in the middle of the night when secrets are safe to say aloud or even write on a page. In the daylight, I think it needs chains and padlocks.

Then I remember something Patti Smith said when she was talking about Robert Mapplethorpe and art… I’m paraphrasing:
…..An artist has a responsibility to go way past where ordinary people go…. but they also have a responsibility to be able to come back and create art…..

When I remind myself of that I know that those words, those sentences, those paragraphs, those letters that are my deepest feelings, thoughts, secrets I would never tell in the daytime….. That the minute I get really uncomfortable I may have actually crossed the line between trash and art.

Tomorrow I will change the title one more time:
The Manuscript That Ate The Girl…

xd diane dipiazza