If you love good writing, you love it wherever it occurs,
and I was hugely impressed by some of the speeches at the Baftas this week,
most notably from Alfonso Cuaron, whose heavily accented English put many
speechwriters to shame as he accepted the Best Director award, saying: ‘I
consider myself part of the British Film Industry. I guess I make a good case
for curbing immigration’; and commenting on ‘the upstairs/downstairs
distinctions in which some categories are defined as artistic and others are
defined as technical. I want to share this award with those artists who live
downstairs.’ http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gWJjZQBJR6s
Helen Mirren’s speech was also a delight, beginning with a call for the roomful
of sparkling high achievers to acknowledge the inspiration they received from
teachers, and ending hauntingly with Shakespeare. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vqCdfoLAFdM
You won’t be surprised that Stephen Fry’s hilarious digs at
those accepting writing awards with poor grammar gave me moments of pure
editorial glee.
Meanwhile as replies, even negative ones, slow to nothing,
motivation lags and lapses, consciousness streams. My writing, prized and
preened, pored over, even lately prioritised – the writing that got teachers
excited, garnered prizes, puffed me up into something better than ordinary; the
same writing that pulled me through early motherhood, the last shred of
confidence to clutch at and cling to, that writing, lately revived, treasured
and even spoken of in the world, is no good. After all that, no good. That must
be it, no good. No prizes come my way, no one is excited, many don’t even
reply. Fish is in an ocean now, and the other fish swim overhead, enormous. I
cringe in their shadows. The white screen seems too much effort; why torture
myself. Try. Keep going. They all say that is the difference, the way to
succeed. I cross out the phrases that come first to mind: not good enough. Find
better ones, odd ones, fresh, striking and strangely apt. Put those in. Keep
doing that. One word in front of another; footsteps on a page. Write on.
