Decades ago, when I was still in high school I think, I went shopping at the Lakewood Center Mall. I was having cramps and felt awful, but for some reason it never occurred to me at that time that it was probably not the best time to go shopping. What ended up happening was I let myself get talked into buying a kelly green, mohair jumper dress. Anyone who knows me that kelly green is not a color I've ever worn, except for the few times I tried to wear that ugly mohair jumper. It was perhaps the worst purchase I'd ever made. Made worse because it cost so much, and I thought it would make me feel better. Learned a lot about impulse shopping that day, but also about trying to put myself in something someone else thought was a good idea.
Have you ever bought a piece of clothing hoping you'd grow to love it or that it would fit even though it was the wrong size to begin with? Remember a time when a pair of skinny jeans or a blouse that fit you 20 years ago, requires a shoehorn to even come close to fitting into? Or for those of us who gained some weight after having a baby, we understand what it feels like to try to squeeze into a pair of pants that no longer fit our image of who we are. We've all probably had the experience of trying to fit into something that just never was right for us in the first place. Our writing careers often find us trying to emulate someone we admire or fitting into some critic's latest "10 best ways to get your work published" articles.
In reality, we each have our own gifts and callings, and we each have to find our own way of being who we are, writer or not. What works for one person, does not necessarily work for everyone. One size or style definitely does not fit all. Much of being a writer, artist, creative person is about convincing ourselves that we can do what makes us happy and fulfilled. This morning I treated myself to an hour of listening to one of my favorite writers, Anne Lamott being interviewed by her writer son, Sam Lamott (if you want to listen, click on Sam Lamott interviews Anne Lamott). I did this after looking for an escape for my regular morning writing practice. This doesn't happen that often, but some mornings, I just have a hard time getting to work. Working for myself at home makes it much easier to 'call in sick' or get distracted than a 'real job' might afford. Nevertheless, there is a nagging, painful urge I have that always gets soothed when I actually 'do the work'. And that's what I call writing, the work.
Writing is a real job and it is also a calling. Something we have to do because it is part of what makes us feel whole. It's how I find ways to express myself, to heal, to sort out, to synthesize, and to tell a story or two. And most of the time, I love it. When I find myself edgy and resistant though, I need only look to see whether or not I'm doing my work in the way that works best for me or not. There is an element of fear that sits somewhere in the recesses of my mind. It's shaped like an inner critic, wet blanket, or the screaming meemies, and it can paralyze me or push me to find whatever I can to lead me away from the next page waiting to be written. Have I said, it doesn't happen often? Yes, of course, which probably means it happens more than I want to admit. Most days, I shove the voice into a corner closet and sit down and write anyway.
Today when I was getting lost in world events and politics, up pop's Anne Lamott's interview, and so I listened. After all I can count listening to a writer talk about writing as writing time, right? It was so interesting however, because her young son, Sam and Anne herself were both talking about the same things that most writers deal with at some point in our writing lives. The interview raised some questions including the following:
How do we know this is the right thing for us?
Is my devotion to my writing career worth the sacrifices and losses I'm making?
How do I cope with failure, rejection, disinterest, and criticism, especially from family and friends?
Am I doing it right?
There are probably more questions than these, but for the sake of an essay, let's start here. The first question, how do I know if this is the right thing for me. Well that is the one question I do have an answer for. I love writing. It's my favorite form of communicating, and I feel alive and fulfilled every time I write. I love for people to read what I write, but I also love the writing simply because it is so much more clear to me than what I can communicate any other way. I find pleasure, satisfaction, and joy in writing. I find connections and deeper paths that link me to greater understanding when I do research and write. I love listening to people's stories and watching people's lives. I'm fascinated by the depth and breadth of characters that are living on the same planet as I am, and the endless possibilities for story telling and narrative. So the answer for me, is yes. Absolutely writing is the right thing for me, and the only regret I have is that I didn't start on my own sooner.
Is my devotion to my writing career worth the sacrifices and losses I'm making? Again, I would have to say yes indeed. Writing is not the first choice I've made in life that has involved making sacrifices and not following the tried and true way. I learned early on that the road less traveled was usually where I wanted to go. Those choices often came about after realizing that 'doing what was expected or safe' did not make me happy nor did they fulfill me. I headed out in new directions, and kept searching until I found the path that fit my passions. I learned that often people gave you advice or criticism based on their own comfort zone and passion, not yours. At different points in time when I was a young woman, conversations that changed my perspective and left doors ajar that led to my dreams, came from those who recognized me and my love for ideas, thought, and writing.
One English Literature professor, recognized me as a poet. When I first entered her poetry class, she warned us, "Don't write any modern, stream of consciousness poetry. I won't like it." I wrote my poetry anyway, and she like it. She liked it so much it inspired her to write poetry and get it published, long before I had the courage to try. She also told me I should write for a living, and encouraged me a long that way. I didn't think I 'knew' enough, so it would be years before I'd accept myself as a poet. Dr. Claudia Buckner was a voice who stayed with me though, and still makes me realize if I just put pen to paper, I can do it.
In a short elevator ride with two of my Psychology professors at CSUDH, I was asked, "Where are you going to graduate school?" My reply, "I haven't applied anywhere." Honestly, I didn't think I had what it took, including money enough, to go to grad school. Their reply, "Well, as soon as you apply, you'll be accepted right away." Again, I put that encouragement on the back shelf and after fits and starts, years later at the age of 50 I would finally start my masters, then another one, and the a doctorate. It took a long time to build up the courage to try, but once I did, I learned, I can do it.
Another key moment was when I took a graduate course in writing, and ended up being asked if I would share the teaching responsibilities of that class. In front of a roomful of students, Dr. Charles Pomeroy asked me how I thought the class should be done, and for a split second I thought, "Okay, I can take the ball and run, or I can turn it back to him. I can be honest or I can defer." I was honest and found myself in a new job, and with a greater sense of what it took to be brave and step out into the moment. There were many times when my ideas or talents were not well received, but the moments and encouragement (better than advice) I remember were those that allowed me to step out into my own identity and define myself for myself while recognizing that others saw my capabilities.
Had I listened to the worriers, doom and gloomers, or those who were set on a different track than I , my journey would have been different. When I went ahead in spite of fear, the outcome has been good. I have learned too that life is dynamic, and what works at one stage of life or in a particular job or relationship, does not necessarily work in all cases. Being flexible and willing to change and take risks helps me stay grounded in the present truth--the reality of the now. That does not mean I don't plan or learn from the past; it means instead that I know plans aren't necessarily going to happen as I expect or want. Getting okay with that is vital to being a writer, for me.
How do I cope with failure, rejection, disinterest, and criticism, especially from family and friends?
Not well. Who does? It's one of the hardest parts of being a writer is not having those who matter most to you take you seriously or even like what you do. I don't know which is worse. We have to do our art in spite of what others think. People's reactions to our art like anything else, is to a large extent based on what's going on in their own minds, hearts, and lives. And it has to do with their interests and tastes. Some people can't imagine you doing your art, because it doesn't fit with the image they have of you in their heads. We're not really responsible for how others judge us or our work.
What matters to me about the writing I do is the response of others who are willing to talk to me about it. It feels fabulous when someone who read my book, "couldn't put it down". What higher compliment? Not so flattering is a good friend who has the courage to tell you they found a flaw in the text of a book that no one else had told you about. I love that my friend David caught a mistake that I missed, and told me so I could fix it. Someone who says, "I don't like mysteries" I tell, then you probably won't like this. Sometimes they do and sometimes they don't. Books are like films. We all have different tastes. Some won't pick up a book if it looks too long, others if it's too short.
So what do we writers do? I thought I was going to be able to write cute, short, cozy mysteries like some of my favorite authors. However, once I started writing novels, I found that wasn't my style. Should I try to contort my style of writing to fit a formula that isn't mine? My answer for myself is 'No'. Writers have very different ways of laying our their works. Some plot and plan meticulously, others let the characters flow. We have to do what works for our own individual style. We also have to nurture and protect our work keeping it out of the way of harsh and cruel criticism. We need to be cautious and discriminating about who we allow to see and help us with our work. To put a piece of a budding idea out to be lambasted by someone should be avoided at all costs. This means, not every friend or family member or colleague is going to be the right person to read, edit, review, or critique your work. Be careful who you listen to, and avoid anyone with a poison tongue or pen who tries to tear your work apart.
Find honest brokers--those who know their way around a piece of writing and who can offer constructive assistance. All others, keep away from your baby projects. I think of one good writer friend who allowed a writing workshop leader critique her manuscript and tell her to start over. That is not helpful nor is it a professional way that anyone who purports to be trying to support writers ought to behave. However, it may happen. If and when it does, grab your work, leave by the nearest exit, and go back to a trusted person who won't tear your heart out as they try to save your life. If you've been hurt, as most of us have at one point or another, take time to heal, get some distance, get some support, and keep writing. Don't let anyone to deter you.
Am I doing it right?
Better yet, am I enjoying what I'm writing? What is my body of work? Sometimes we're so intent on what we haven't yet done that we forget what we've accomplished. Whatever stage of your writing life you're in, do an inventory. Gather all the writing you've done together. Essays, research, poetry, articles, books, blogs, letters, whatever you've done. This will give you a better sense of your writings. You can do this for any type of art or other work. Until we recognize what we have accomplished, we are operating in a dark room.
What different types of writing do I like, and why don't I do more of it? How do I measure success for myself? Again, more questions. And the last question I asked today should provoke more questions you have about your life as a writer, artist, sculptor, musician, or whatever you do that helps you express your identity. Healer, doctor, carpenter, communicator, singer, lover of life. Give yourself a pat on the back for what you've created in your life, and notice what has given you the most joy, fulfillment, and purpose. If financial success is your primary goal, how is that working for you as a creative person? Decide what matters most as far as your sense of success is, and measure that against the life you're living.
Then commit yourself to the time, energy, resources, and dedication it takes to be the writer you are and wish to become. Do this with whatever matters most to you, with whatever gives you purpose, and serves those you seek to enrich and serve. Decide for yourself what criteria matters most, and align yourself with daily work that leads toward that. If you block out possibility simply because you can't imagine things working out differently for you, rethink where you are putting your faith and how you are stopping yourself from doing what gives you purpose, meaning, and fulfillment. Write on. Create. Be happy in that.
