Where Edges Meet

One of the many ways I avoid writing while simultaneously persuading myself that I’m “working on writing” is by reading books about writing or, for that matter, reading any book, article or blog post. And it's true, I’m probably learning something about writing even if it’s what not to do.

I know. I know. I need to just write. But there is an upside to my relentless guidance seeking. Once in a while, I read something that pings. I can feel it ricocheting around my brain, generating more pings, creating a ruckus. And last week this happened twice with promising synchronicity. I was reading Mary Pipher’s Writing to Change the World because: (1) I wouldn’t mind changing the world and (2) it was easier than writing, when the following passage started to ping:

Everything really interesting and powerful happens at the borders. Borders teem with life, color, and complexity. . . . Think about the borders between things—between the U.S. and Mexico, between history and geography, between science and art, between childhood and adulthood, between men and women. Edge habitats are a good place to look for material.

I love this idea of “edge habitats,” transition zones, places where different cultures meet. As it happened, the next day I started reading The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down by Anne Fadiman (inspired by Laura’s great report on Ex Libris). On the second page of the preface, Fadiman writes:

I have always felt that the action most worth watching is not at the center of things but where edges meet. I like shorelines, weather fronts, international borders. There are interesting frictions and incongruities in these places, and often, if you stand at the point of tangency, you can see both sides better than if you were in the middle of either one.

Since reading these passages, I’ve backed away from the epicenter of my subjects, started looking around the edges. I’m enjoying this new perspective. I may even write about it.