Green Where You Water It

In the introduction to Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott reflects on growing up in a literary household shaped by her writer father, whose disciplined daily practice and devotion to language quietly modeled both the beauty and burden of the writing life. She traces her own path from an anxious, awkward child who found refuge in books and humor to a young woman determined to become a writer, despite insecurity, terrible early drafts, professional rejection, and the sobering realization that publication does not deliver the emotional salvation most writers secretly hope for. Through stories of her father’s illness, her first book deal, harsh reviews, and the slow grind of daily practice, Lamott reveals that writing is sustained less by talent or acclaim than by stubborn hope, faith, and the willingness to show up consistently. She dismantles the fantasy of literary fame while passionately defending the act of writing itself as meaningful, transformative, and joyful. The introduction establishes her core message: publication is not the reward—writing is.

Short Assignments:

• When the mind spirals into panic over writing a whole novel or life story, she advises focusing only on what fits inside a “one-inch picture frame”—a single paragraph, one small scene, one precise moment.
• By narrowing attention to something manageable, the noise of anxiety, resentment, money worries, and self-doubt becomes background static instead of a full-blown mutiny.
• She reinforces this with E. L. Doctorow’s image of driving at night with headlights that illuminate only a few feet ahead.
• Progress comes from being kind to yourself and completing one short assignment at a time.

Margin Notes:

(These are notes I wrote to myself, so if some things read a bit presumptuous—like “You’re good at layering things on” and then “You struggle when it comes to actually writing the throughline”—it’s because I’m speaking to myself. Apologies. Though truth be told, I’m kind of surprised by how nice I sound talking to myself. Usually mental me is…well, mental.)

Write one chapter, one scene at a time however you imagine it. Don’t worry if it fits in the grand scheme of things. Put down pieces you know for sure, though those are subject to change if needed. But put down pieces you know for sure right now. Get the story down as you know it right now.

Then with each pass, you tie things together, you organize, you cut out, you make more decisions. You don’t have to determine everything now. You can’t. It’s impossible. The only way to know, is to write what you know now. If you’re worried that you might be too focused on the throughline and the story will lack depth or meat, don’t. You can add more meat on later. That’s not something you should worry about. You’re good at layering things on. You struggle when it comes to actually writing the throughline all the way through so focus on that first.

The rest of the scene can be vague, just get the bare bones down and in later passes you will add on more because you will think of more things that could happen to make the story extraordinary. Or you can just write down the scene ideas or details as it comes to you and you can piece it together later. Just don’t be afraid. Don’t stop to think if this will work. You can cut it out later if it doesn’t. You can transform it if it doesn’t. You can merge it with something else and make it work. You can figure it out…but later. Right now—just keep writing. If you have questions, write it out, you will think of solutions later and if not, at least you have your worries down on paper to work through at a later date.