I felt so happy and fulfilled, yet a little bit sad knowing that I had just finished a great book – Word for Wormingford by Ronald Blythe. I started reading the book four months ago. I just felt a little sad because I don’t have anymore excerpts from Blythe that I could discuss in my journal.
I am, of course, a notorious lotus-eater… not having to work, ‘just sitting there writing’ and I admit such a blessing.
– Ronald Blythe
I bought this book because I thought the author / writer “Ronald Blythe” rings a bell to me. I told myself this was probably one of those writers or books that I should have read or one of the book recommendations from my professors and so I bought it with much enthusiasm. When I got home I realized that I mistook Ronald Blythe for Robert Bly – that latter, a contemporary American poet. I was really disappointed to find out about it. Even more terrible was the fact that Word from Wormingford is actually a product of spiritual and nature writing, “musings from a country writer”, a creative nonfiction book – a genre that I am not used to. I thought I was not ready to deal with the sincerity of the book.
The trouble with a writer’s diary is that it is bound to contain many days when “nothing happens”. Nothing other than writing, that is. – Ronald Blythe
Surprisingly, day by day this book opened up to me, slowly and deliberately. I had a great experience with it that I think reading some chapters sort of spurs me to write and reflect something about them. It was a good way to jumpstart reflection. And it’s spiritual, not religious – and there’s a HUGE difference between the two, to tell you the truth.
So after four months I finished the book. Something sweet and sad came over to me after I closed it.
I find myself getting up earlier and earlier in the luxury of not having to. It is then that I am ‘awake’ in a way which is unlike the normal alertness of the daylight hours. – Ronald Blythe