A Moveable Feast: advice on writing by Ernest Hemingway

I read Ernest Hemingway in school, but I suppose I was introduced to his work too early to truly appreciate it. But I recently picked up A Moveable Feast, a memoir of his period as an aspiring writer in Paris, recommended by Natalie Goldberg in Writing Down the Bones. It was fascinating to read about Paris in the 1920s and Hemingway's proximity to famous writers and artists like F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ezra Pound, or Pablo Picasso. Hemingway openly describes the numerous writing distractions he experienced as a result of his lifestyle, including drinking and having so many people around him, but I found learning about his writing process to be very interesting. Yet again, throughout the reading, I was reminded of Mason Currey's Daily Rituals: How Artists Work, a book that shows how artists approach creating in different ways. I did take away a few pieces of writing advice that I'd like to share.

A Moveable Feast, handwritten manuscript pages. Source: 2010 restored edition published by Scribner

Stop working so you can write again tomorrow

That is a practice I also follow: if you still have enough creative energy to continue writing for a while longer, stop writing for the day after you have completed some work. You'll find it much easier to get back into the swing of things the next time you sit down to write.

“I always worked until I had something done and I always stopped when I knew what was going to happen next. That way I could be sure of going on the next day.”

“I had learned already never to empty the well of my writing; but always to stop when there was still something there in the deep part of the well, and let it refill at night from the springs that fed it.”

One true sentence

Still, there were times that Hemingway wouldn’t know what to write. When you're stuck for words, write just one true sentence:

“But sometimes when I was starting a new story and I could not get it going, I would sit in front of the fire and squeeze the peel of the little oranges into the edge of the flame and watch the sputter of blue that they made. I would stand and look out over the roofs of Paris and think, <<Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.>> So finally I would write one true sentence, and then go on from there. It was easy then because there was always one true sentence that you knew or had seen or had heard someone say. If I started to write elaborately or like someone introducing or presenting something, I found that I could cut that scrollwork or ornament out and throw it away and start with the first true simple declarative sentence I had written.”

Let your subconscious do the work

I like how Hemingway would write first thing in the morning and then retire for the day by doing something completely different, like going for a walk and reading. This way, you're allowing your mind to continue working on what you have previously written about:

“It was in that room too that I learned not to think about anything that I was writing from the time I stopped writing until I started again the next day. That way my subconscious would be working on it and at the same time I would be listening to other people and noticing everything, I hoped; learning, I hoped; and I would read so that I would not think about my work and make myself impotent to do it.”

“To keep my mind off writing sometimes after I had worked I would read writers who were writing then, such as Aldous Huxley, D.H. Lawrence or any who had books published that you could get from Sylvia Beach’s library or find along the quais.”

Change where you write

Finally, in the spirit of Hemingway, I will try to write more outside of my home office. I can see how getting out of the house and writing in a quiet place, such as a library or in nature, might be a good idea. Writing in cafes, on the other hand, was never my thing. I want to experiment more and try writing in public places that don't appear to be conducive to creating. I'm curious to see how a change of scenery will affect my writing.

Reading about Ernest Hemingway's stay in Paris piqued my interest in his personal life. I discovered that he was born in Oak Park, Illinois, not far from where I live now. This is a place I definitely want to visit soon.