Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within

What does Zen Buddhism have to do with writing? Natalie Goldberg asked the same question of her roshi (Zen Master). She had gravitated toward Zen mediation for self-discovery and to process the things in her life that were at loose ends. But she had a difficult time with meditation. The rosit suggested that she use writing as a Zen practice. The world opened up for Goldberg in a surprising way with the suggestion.

[Writing Down the Bones] is part prompt book, part philosophy, and part journal. Goldberg uses two to four pages to tackle a topic that would be important to a writer – like detail or syntax or topic. Then, she launches into an encouraging and instructive meditation on the topic. Her advice is common sense and not at all show more yogic, if you’re worried that you don’t want to have to grab a mat and light a candle. It’s writing and life that she wants to expose in each reader’s soul.

Among the most helpful sections were those on learning how to develop confidence and trust in the writing ability. Every writer, almost by definition, is plagued with self-doubt, but she preaches to embrace the practice of writing with regard only for what you express and what you learn about yourself in the process. Like David Morrell did, in [Lessons from a Lifetime of Writing: A Novelist Looks at His Craft], she sees writing as a doorway to self-understanding and discovery – you only have to engage the practice.

I can’t recommend this book highly enough for anyone who is already writing or who wants to write. I gifted a copy to a writing friend this Christmas, in hopes that it would mean as much to him as it has to me. Sometimes I read a few pages as a way to get in the right mindset to write. Sometimes the section I read spoke directly to the doubts I was having that very minute. [Writing Down the Bones] is an invaluable resource.

Bottom Line: The writing life, and life in general, through a Zen Buddhist lens.

5 bones!!!!!
A favorite for the year!!!!! show less

Dear Natalie,
Thanks for writing this book. Nowadays I have dreams about the sagging wooden cottage I was living in some 20+ years ago, the period in which I first read your book, dreams in which the ‘possums and ‘coons and snakes living underneath it crawl up and take it over. In those days I slept on the floor, worked in an Indy bookstore, helped out with local progressive politics and AIDS activism, ran and cycled long distances, and if I had needed to I would have found a few other intense activities to keep me from doing what I needed to do, which was to finish my dissertation. Your writing was clunky but humble and cheerful. It reminded me of the local food coop, where food was more expensive and tasted worse than the grocery show more store products, at least if you fed a steady sugar addiction as I did, but was tirelessly wholesome. I opted for the A&P, sorry Natalie, for cheap sugary peanut butter and breakfast cereal. But for writing, yeah, for writing I had developed a taste in the bookstore for the good stuff. The problem was (no surprise here), it was hard and I often stumbled. Natalie, your unusual combination of mysticism and common sense appealed to me even when I cringed sometimes at your own writing, particularly as “self indulgence” is a major crime for academic writers. But I learned to sit through the squirmy feeling and stay with you, and in doing that I learned also not to flinch prematurely from my own efforts. The dissertation got written. It was not poetry, Natalie, not that great a read at all, but it got written. Thanks for that.
Sincerely,
A humbled reader show less

Natalie Goldberg’s guide for writers seeks to free authors to engage their own minds in writing. Using Zen Buddhism as a template, she describes the practice of writing as similar to meditation in that an author engages her/his own mind. She seeks to free writers from a persistent “inner critic” who chatters doubts, hangups, and insecurities. She labels this the “monkey mind” in contrast to a “creative mind.” As she does in writing seminars, she even proscribes a set duration of writing each day, much like one would engage in prayer or meditation.

Goldberg herself comes from a non-practicing Jewish background. She had no strong educational awards to fall back on but became inspired in the feminist movement to do something show more noteworthy. She eventually gained a Buddhist mentor whose influence is all over this book and her life. She even re-engaged with Judaic spiritual rhythms.

She speaks in very earthy tones with strong metaphors, which increases reader engagement with the book. This audiobook contains the original text of her book along with interviews about each chapter done over a decade later. Goldberg is sometimes surprised at her confidence and at other times, critiques her younger self. This added dynamic makes the audiobook even more interesting.

Obviously, this book is intended primarily for authors and writing professionals. However, anyone who wants a more transparent relationship with the writing process, whether in business emails or even with computer code (my trade), can benefit from Goldberg’s advice. She simply cautions writers to tone down their self-criticism and actually get down to the process of honest writing. Most readers will engage better with what the author finds most meaningful and relatable. Self-actualization is a key part of the process. This perspective can engage with better writing and better living in 2023 as well as it originally did in the 1980s. show less

I read this for the second time as I prepared for my first experience as facilitator for a writing class. In the process, I became aware that no better guide for a new writing group exists. Her advice is timeless. At each turn of a page I was reminded why this little volume has never been out of print since its 1986 publication. With frequent reference to her experiences as a student of Zen, Goldberg writes a little about her process as a writer and a teacher of writing and a lot about creative exercises to awaken the muse. She compares the daily practice of writing to the daily practice of running, something that you do whether you feel like it or not. If you practice as Goldberg instructs, you will, over time, develop your own writing show more rituals. In the meantime, Goldberg's instruction and exercises will grease the wheels, clear the cogs, and seduce the imagination to yield its naked creativity. show less

I actually listened to the audiobook, which in a way was much more productive for me than actually reading the book itself. Why? Because I was able to listen to [author:Natalie Goldberg|25189] as she talked about what you should be doing to help yourself develop ideas, hone your craft, where you should write and just about every aspect of the writing process, as I wandered through our neighborhoods. Just that simple act was able to get my creative juices flowing, and connected with me so powerfully that I ache to write. I want to better myself, but I know I need to practice. I've seen how powerful her lessons can be; I recently wrote, "I need to give myself permission to write what I want, and not necessarily what other people want to show more read!" It's something I honestly wouldn't have considered had I not listened to this audiobook.

And now, every time I start to jot a note to myself about something I want to write, or even start on a new story, I have Natalie's voice in my head. And that's a good thing. show less

“You're a writer? Don't you just love Writing Down the Bones?”

This is one of those books that people just assume you've read when you have an MFA in writing. I had heard quite a bit about it, but I hadn't actually read it until now. But since this book has clearly been highly praised and circulated within the writing community since the 1980s, it's no surprise that I've come across so much of Goldberg's sage advice throughout the years.

The problem with a book like this is that I have heard it all before. It's a testament to what Goldberg had to say on the subject of writing, but my mind was certainly not blown by reading this. And so I'm not sure if my overall lack of love for this book is indicative of an overpraised lackluster show more book, or a wonderfully brilliant book that has been dulled by its successors. Frankly, I think it is both.

Some of Goldberg's ideas are golden. She's very much into the “let go” mentality of writing. She has really great advice for how to achieve this. Many of her thoughts on mindfulness are the words I have heard and appreciated over and again. But when you look at the whole of this book, you find that that really is the summation of the author's advice. Sure, she has a small exercise here and a tidbit of non-zen based advice there, but so much of this book is about writing mindfully. Writing mindfully is exactly what I need, but reading this book thirty-two years after its original publication, it is mostly stuff I've heard before.

Writing Down the Bones is excellent for the beginning writer or the writer who wants to approach their work more naturally. It should probably be required reading in undergrad writing programs. But for a broader, more modern perspective of the writing craft or for solid inspiration, I'd look elsewhere. Personally, I loved McCann's Letters to a Young Writer. It's a slim volume and McCann surely will not teach you “everything you need to know about writing” or even come close to doing so, but it features a great mix of topics that are 100% inspiring (though many of those ideas were probably inspired by Goldberg's book). show less

I don’t know if every writer is insecure, but this one is, and sometimes needs an encouraging prod to keep going. That is Natalie Goldberg’s great strength. I kept this book close while working on a project recently, and whenever I felt the urge to take a break for “just one” hand of solitaire, I picked Goldberg’s book up instead and read one of its short chapters (the fact that there are sixty of them in 170 pages gives you an idea of how short).
There are many small details in the book that remain with me, for instance, the image of the compost heap that we draw on as we write. Two of the main takeaways seem, on the surface, contrary. One is Goldberg’s recommendation to dive into the loneliness that is part of every show more writer’s existence. To observe it, to describe it.
The other is the degree to which writing is a communal activity. Goldberg talks of having a writing partner, making a date to sit in a cafe and write. Or of writing workshops that meet weekly for eight weeks. The routine she uses is to have participants write for short, set times, then read aloud. What makes Goldberg’s workshops different from writing courses I’ve taken is that no one comment on the texts after they are read aloud. Not even an “I know what you mean.” The desire to react after hearing the texts read then flows as energy into the next writing segment.
This is not the only good book on writing. It doesn’t offer much insight into how to transform your outpourings from self-expression into texts that others will enjoy reading. But you can’t publish a polished text until you’ve written something. This book will help you do that. Let Goldberg sit beside you, hold your free hand, and get your other hand, the one that holds your pen, get moving. show less