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A Serious Woman - Lux Magazine

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Ihad known from the age of eight that I wanted to write; writing was fun and the teacher always praised my compositions. Within 10 years I knew that writing was not play, it was work; and work, I had come to know, was the basis for a serious life, a thing I thought I dearly wanted. Yet I grew into a compulsive talker who could not stay put at the desk for more than one hour in 24. There were days, even weeks, when I didn’t sit down at the desk at all. In short, although I moralized endlessly about living a serious life, it seemed I could not take the act of working seriously enough to do it. On the other hand, neither could I give up the hope that eventually I would. For years, I lived an untethered existence of half efforts, produced half-arrived-at pieces, and walked around waiting for my life to begin. Sign up for our free newsletter, Lux for Life, and get three free articles a month. Please fill in your details to register Already signed up for our newsletter? Log in. Or, subscribe

I had known from the age of eight that I wanted to write; writing was fun and the teacher always praised my compositions. Within 10 years I knew that writing was not play, it was work; and work, I had come to know, was the basis for a serious life, a thing I thought I dearly wanted. Yet I grew into a compulsive talker who could not stay put at the desk for more than one hour in 24. There were days, even weeks, when I didn’t sit down at the desk at all. In short, although I moralized endlessly about living a serious life, it seemed I could not take the act of working seriously enough to do…

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