Writing in Paris--Part Deux

I was browsing through the French travel section of my local library, like the way I do when my fridge is empty and I come back to check to see if somehow the laws of physics have been suspended and my refrigerator has magically created food, other than the condiments and the questionable Parmesan cheese that had been there prior to the commercial break. I had no hope of finding anything except the usual suspects, Rick Steves, Fodors, Frommer, and Budget France. Been there, done that--got the J'adore Paris tee shirt.

Just as I was about to abandon the travel section of my local library and head off to foreign films in the basement, I found something unexpected. It was Eric Maisel's diminutive volume, "A Writer's Paris: A Guided Journey For The Creative Soul." The antiquated stone grain mustard cover had me convinced it was like all the others--an outdated 1970's travel book telling its readers not to miss the fabulous Les Halles Food Market. As soon as I deciphered the title, I quickly claimed it --as one would do when they discovered a book that promised to deliver their longest held and most highly prized fantasies. My reaction was one of both utter delight and a cautioned reserve.

Eric Maisel had lived my dream, and for $18.99, or even for free, since I have a valid library card, he wanted to tell me how I could do it too. As soon as I got home, I poured myself a glass of Vin rouge, smeared some Brie on a cracker, crawled into bed and opened the book the same way I had long ago opened a Danielle Steel or Harold Robbins novel while sipping on a Bartles and James Wine Cooler. (We must have reached a new level of trust in our blogging relationship--- for me to share my short lived adolescent induced descent into the romance genre).

Sure, Maisel is a successful writer that had enough in the bank to go off and live in Paris for a year and write on how to write in Paris. I was undaunted by his success. For, already, Eric had given me something I had never found in the journals of Nin, the novels of Miller or the essays of Sedaris. He gave me hope. And, he also gives some pretty decent suggestions on how to prevent my dark-not writing in Paris fantasy from happening ( will give more details in next post on Writing in Paris).

While I may not achieve the success that my Paris fantasies promise. I may, in fact, be able to write in Paris for three months, maybe six....maybe even a year. C'est possible.
There are some weaknesses to Maisel's book. He does not give out any contact info for the muses. They are, as always, more difficult to find than a Birkin bag at a vintage store. Nor does Maisel offer any suggestions on how to turn my crappy first draft into a less crappy second draft. And, more seriously, some of his recollections seem more like page filler than real and actual guidance. He also comes short in providing real references for the practical planning for your year in Paris. Other books in the travel section would adequately compensate for Maisel's scant resources. It would also be nice if he would share stories of how other writer's have made their Paris writing dream's a reality.

Even if all you want to do is fantasize about writing in Paris--this book is worth reading. If you really-really-really want to make your writing in Paris fantasy a reality, I highly recommend it.

Step one, of my Maisel inspired write in Paris plan, is to first write in the U.S.

To be continued---Writing in Paris Part III ( look for the third installment some time next week).