Sit down, shut up and write. Sorry, I am not usually so bossy—but this is the wise advice of Carolyn See in chapter one of Making a Literary Life, boiled down to its Cliff Notesian core essence. Carolyn, with far greater tact than found in my opening line, advises would be writers not to yap to everyone that they are a writer or what they are writing or how they will soon be on Oprah jumping the couch—don’t jump the gun or the shark or do jumping of any kind.
There are dangers in talking too much about your writing. I have probably experienced each and every pitfall of prattling on about my prose. I know that when I tell the story of what I want to write I don’t often have the energy to write it. When I sit down in front of the blank screen and that mocking and flashingly impatient cursor, the story has already been told and my psyche is done with it and it has moved onto other stories that I may not be as interested in telling, stories like: what are we going to have for lunch and did I remember to cancel my dermatologist appointment or what would have happened if I got to take Cello lessons like I’d wanted and why my father was such a selfish so and so.
Even worse than talking myself out of an idea is when I let others do it for me. I recall an encounter with an acquaintance whose idea of great literature was “The Cat Who” series. I told this well-meaning women my idea for a story and with a single tone laden “hmmm” and a subtle lift of her brow I knew she thought my idea was stupid, ridiculous, inane and other words that would require me to turn to my thesaurus to convey. Then and there I threw my idea out like a stinky poop that was made by the “Cat who killed a great idea.” As I am sure you know, I never wrote that story. That catty critic killed my clever idea. But, I let her do it. I threw my literary simulated Tahitian black pearl in front of a lady who reads murder mysteries that are solved by cats names Yum-Yum and Koko.
There is another issue that comes up when telling people you are writing. They start to ask you questions that are certain to kill your confidence. It goes something like this:
Me: I am a writer
Other: Really? A mixed tone if interest and suspicion permeates the question.
Me: Yes ( feeling cocky, confident and proud).
Other: Have you published?
Me: Yes (continuing to feel cocky, confident and proud).
Other: Where have you published?
Me: I list off the short and unimpressive list of publications in which my writing has appeared. I emphasize the fact that I had my own column and that I was an Entertainment Editor at a newspaper. I fail to mention the size of the readership. I then move onto the big magazine I was published in and I do not mention that it is no longer in operation. I hope that they don’t know that. Then I mention the smaller publications that I am sure they have never heard of and I say them as fast and furiously as possible. It is my hope that they might misunderstand my mumbling and think I had said I was published in The New Yorker instead of “I feel sick and I need a glass of water”.
Other: When was the last time you published?
Me: I pause. I cannot answer that question. I don’t know what the year was. It has been a while. A long while. If I knew what year it was I would have to admit how long it has been. I shrug a wordless response of seeming indifference.
Other: Have you written a book?
Me: I am feeling really bad. Yes, yes I have written a book( I try to say coolly). I do not mention that the book is very bad and that it is in a box at Public Storage—and that it is the only copy and that I don’t care if I had lost it in the move. But, I did write it.
Other: Is it a book I can buy in a store?
Me: Uh, no. Now I feel like a total fraud and am promising myself I will never tell anyone I am a writer—ever again. But this time I REALLY mean it.
Other: Is losing interest in talking to me and looks around the room to see if there is anyone else more interesting to talk to.
Me: Weakly I offer, I do have a blog.
Other: Oh, that’s nice. Imagines it is a blog with pictures of family photos, poetry quotes and endless self-indulgent blathers.
Me: ( Screaming silently to myself) Do not tell people you are writing. Just shut up and write!
I know that in writing this series I am not following Carolyn’s advice or even my own. You know that I am writing. I mean, you are reading this and it was written by me. It is difficult to write about writing a book and not admit that you are writing it. I suppose it could be done. I could get all omniscient narrator on you and remove myself from the process. However the title of this series is called “Writing in Valencia” and not “Writing in Abstraction” I do feel like there is an implied “I” in this series and that “I” is intractable and it won’t leave me alone—especially as I am writing about my process of trying to create a literary life.
I think it is best to follow every step in the recipe if you hope to make a decent cake. I think that is why I prefer cooking to baking. I am not a person who follows directions absolutely—I prefer improvisational cooking and recipes that involve dashes, hand fulls, smidgens and substitutions. I may be breaking Carolyn’s rules of Making a Literary Life at may own peril. I guess time will tell and the cake and/or life that comes out of all of this.
Next week in Part III of Writing in Valencia: “What is my material beyond jean, cotton and cashmere? The fabric of my life and writing.” Well, that is what I think I will write about next week—but now that I have told you it might be something entirely different.
The “Shut up” photo comes from here.
Your parents wouldn’t let you have cello lessons? My parents wouldn’t let me have piano lessons. I would go to friend’s houses that had pianos so I could play them.
That conversation about writing would be with a boor. I tried to read one of “The Cat Who”, and I didn’t like it. You should just snatch back your Tahitian Black Pearl, because that lady likes plastic pop beads, and her opinion surely doesn’t count
.
You obviously have a lot of people that like your writing, so I wouldn’t worry if I were you. Keep on writing.
poetry quotes and endless self-indulgent blathers.
Like those are bad things?
The problem is that when we ask someone what they do, it has to be some kind of traditional, money-making employment. Sure, writers like Stephen King or whomever ghostwrites most of the crap on the NY Times bestseller list, but those aren’t real people because real people aren’t writers.
I am not a person who follows directions absolutely—I prefer improvisational cooking and recipes that involve dashes, hand fulls, smidgens and substitutions.
That’s part of the fun. And at the end of the day, I’ve found it best to write what I would enjoy reading. You have to compose stuff that you would dig. Chances are someone else will dig it, too, for as julianne says, we’re here, aren’t we?
Barbara Ehrenreich, in her book “Nickel and Dimed” takes a series of minimum wage jobs. At one, she decides to “come out” to her co-workers. “I’m a writer”, she announces (her Pulitzer firmly in mind). “Oh, I’m a writer TOO” everyone says- they tell her about their poetry, journals, stories. Since many, many people are writers, don’t worry, just write (too).
Julianne: Nope. I had tried guitar and didn’t love it so that was that for them–no more lessons unless it involved golf or tennis.
LOL! Yes, plastic pop beads indeed!!:-)
Thank you for the encouragement,I will keep writing.
i tell people i am a drug dealer.
then they leave me alone and my drink… (as you can tell, i hate sustained conversations
so that i can observe [and laugh] at these sad and absurd ‘exercises-of-upmanships’ around the room…
or go and talk to joe-the-plumber there in the corner [and hopefully deploy the ear of a joseph mitchell...]
Oh, in this bloggy-world, everyone is a writer and more willing to admit it. Please just write. It is better to just write it than to tell it because then the words and initiative are lost.
Why did your parents assume that the failure with the guitar was a fault in you, not with the guitar? It obviously was not a perfect match. I hate that idea that one failure dooms you for a life of being “someone who can’t stick with things”. Oops, projecting my own experiences.
My parents didn’t let me take piano, even though I begged, wheedled and pleaded from the time I was three and they had to forcefully remove me from my grandmother’s piano. In my teens I would go to a family friend’s house where I would spend hours at the piano. When my baby brother asked for piano lessons, out of the blue, when he was 15, they bought him a piano and put it in his bedroom, no questions asked.
Randal: Poetry is great if it is yours. Your poetry is the kind that would send me to the bookstore or your blog or wherever. Really, keep writing that poetry.
Money seems to be the marker of whether or not one is a “real” writer. I would shudder to add up all the money I have made from writing. I think I probably made more at my part-time jobs in High School. To some the lack of money would mean I am not a writer.
I think that the reason I don’t do freelance writing is that it would require me to do pieces on subjects I am just not that in too. I just can’t do it. In many parts of my life I do what I don’t want to do, in my writing I refuse to write what I don’t want to.
Your post speaks to the very soul of me. But I can’t REALLY write until I get a brand new macbook and the ivory tower it comes with.
I say you let people ask way too many questions, girl!
Duchesse: Must read that book. I love it. It’s like L.A. where every waiter is an actor or a screenwriter. I think shut up and write is really good advice. You can’t write if you are talking( Well, I can’t).;-)
SUR: If I were you I would go up and down the streets of Albuquerque and regions beyond and say, “I am the architect who built the high school; Get to know me!” But, hey, if that drug dealer thing is working for you–go with it.;-)
Hee-hee!! I love the Joe the plumber is neither Joe or a plumber. That is a profound Zen koan.
p.s. I bet Joe the plumber is writing a book too.;-)
Yes, I think it’s best not to tell people you are writing a book because of the inevitable, “What’s it about?” question and then having to distill your great idea down into a 2-minute synopsis for a person who probably owns all the “Chicken Soup” books.
Mardel:I think that the energy and passion of an idea can be dissipated by talking about it too much. I really have talked myself out of an idea. It is so much better just to write down all of the ideas and get it all down and then when I am editing I can talk about it as I already have it all down.
My parents were not into any activity that required them to pay money or drive me anywhere unless it would some day help me in business and meet nice people( only golf or tennis met their two requirements).
Guitar was too happy for me. But, the dark moodiness of the cello. Le sigh! I loved all the body movement and passion of the cello. Not to be for me.
Oh, Mardel, I am furious for you. Your brother got the piano and the lessons and you got bupkis. Not fair!!!!!!
Good point, ma belle! I’m always suspicious in talking about some things I do when they aren’t on track yet.
Hubby says everything to everyone, sometimes it’s just because he is proud of me I know, but there’s some things I think it can give bad luck if we talk too much about them early.
Am I being weird????
Love
xoxo
Tessa: Oh, I had that one. I had to get a MacBook to be a writer. Now, I do admit that since I don’t have to deal with my crashing HP laptop I do have more time to write. So maybe it worked. Tessa, I hate to be the one to disabuse you of your faulty notion( not really true, I am happy to do it)—you are a writer right now even without the Mac. I read your post yesterday and that was writing!!
p.s. Very few writers have found that ivory tower. If you do would you let me know how you did it!;-)
WendyB: Yeah, I suppose I could change the subject before we get to the part of the conversation that leaves me feeling like crap.
I heart: If only we could write a book that sold like the chicken soup franchise—only without all the sap and schmaltz!;-)
Seeker:I have the same belief as you. I think that there has to be a certain amount of action and momentum before I am willing to talk about it. I am pretty superstitious about this.
He-weasel has learned that I will freak out if he tells others about a project that I have just started. Loose lips sinks creative ships!;-)
Love
xoxo
I’m marking you down for a sale if I ever publish anything.
Exactly, being paid to write about stuff that isn’t your bag is a complete waste of time. It’s one thing to go to a job that sits on the side of drudgery than to spend valuable ink writing on something that’s banal and snooze-inducing.
Writing should be a passion. If you can get paid for it, all the better, but at the bare minimum, you must enjoy what you’re doing because it isn’t just a job, even if you are earning some green. Or yellow, or red or whatever Euro bills are ’cause I’d rather get paid in them than Murkan bucks.
I can see it now: Joe the Plumber: My Life and how it was hijacked by the socialist agenda by Joe the Plumber and Hugh Hewitt.
break the rules (damn, I wish that I could use italics!)
Break the rules. That is what life and writing is all about!
I can’t believe the lack of enthusiasm that cat person showed. I wonder, have you considered writing that story since then? What’s to stop you now?
I wanna smack “Other”. Like, hard.
I like the shut up and write idea.
Jen: I wish I could show you how to do the italics. Okay, I know how. Just delete the spaces between what I am about to show you.
You < i > and then put the words in that you want to italicize right here and then you < / i >. Got it? Just take out all the spaces I put in the brackets and you should have italics. Hope that helps!
And, I am breaking the rules. I hope I still create a literary life even though I am breaking rule #1.
Oh my Gawd! I loved pop beads. I’m so glad Julianne reminded me of that. However, no-can-do on the cat-solved crimes. Now, Pelecanos, with all that music and sordid crime. That’s my guy.
What you called “self-indulgent blather…” another person recently described as “a confessional vice” (I’m paraphrasing), but in both cases the judgments about “personal” writing seem to me to be insidious permutations of the internal censor/critic’s ugly head rearing up and attempting, once again, to crush whatever the fuck you want to write–say, sing, dance, paint, design–that is AUTHENTIC.
That written, I wonder how any one of us would, or does, feel if the preparatory contemplation and the act of writing are/were both considered means rather than ends.
And is the thing written:
a poem
a screed
a review
a short story
a novel
un journal intime
a love letter
a hate letter
something that we are writing only for ourselves or is it the feedback that we want and need. Is the writing a means to feedback? Or an end in itself? The existence of blogs make it seem like an amalgam–not one or the other, but both.
I don’t know the answer to those questions. I really am wondering out loud about that. I also wonder whether or not there might be a variant on the paradigm shift–re: what constitutes “writing”–since the development and evolution of blogging “for the masses” as a phenomenon. That is to say, the book “Making a Literary Life” was written, perhaps, before so very many people were “publishing” their writings on the Internet. Maybe now the old paradigm of “Are you published?” is moot and only one’s SiteMeter stats and comments speak to one’s “success” as a writer.
In any event, I have neither published, nor am I drowning in readership or comments (“Not that there’s anything wrong with it!”) but the act of writing for the blog itself is powerfully engaging.
I’ll be looking for Part 3 from Valencia.
Ah, the writing critics. I have tended to answer the question, “What do you write” with the answer “An analysis of mental illness in the general population” if someone is being rude to me about my writing. Otherwise, I go for the kinder “Actually, I’m having writer’s block these days”. (Years would be more accurate). However, if you really want a horrible reaction just say you’re a housewife. People go ballistic if you say that.
You really should take cello. In fact, I have one here right now that never gets used. Yes, the boy plays cello, has so for five years and is apparently very talented. Disciplined about practicing he is not, so I really don’t know if he is that talented.
Christine
Randal:Mark me down for 10 copies. One for me and for everyone on my Christmas list.
Trying to write about things that might be sellable and might make me some money killed my creativity. So, unless someone wants to pay me for what I want to write I will not get paid to write.
Hee-hee!! Did you read that Hugh Hewitt’s agents could not sell his latest book? Love that!!!
Enc: Oh, there have been many cat people and there have been many ideas that are forever flushed down the loo with the scoopable litter never to be seen again. Once an idea is met with rejection I seem to lose memory of it. It is some kind of self-protective amnesia.
K.line: Hum, my impulse is to smack myself in those conversations with “other”. But, I like your idea better.;-)
Savvy: Good one, huh?;-)
Miss Janey must concur with this advice. Save energy for writing- not talking about writing. Stephen King also advises in his book on writng NOT to get into a writing group. Miss J was in a group ages ago, but had a lot of frustrations and left. She sees the pros- deadlines, other writers’ insights- and the cons- not liking everyone in teh group, etc.
LBR- you write a lovely blog everyday. You are a writer! Don’t let anyone tell yuo you’re not.
LFA: Pop beads remind me of my time as a hostess at Club Med. They were called “bar beads”. So, pop beads and alcohol are forever linked in my associative memory.
I don’t mean to hate on cats who can solve crime. I wish my cats had had that ability. I am just not and never will be that kind of writer. Pop mystery is not my genre. I do admire the sales and the prolific nature of people who succeed in that genre.
Ooh, vice. Something about that word makes me think of sin and prostitution and squads that will try to stop my vice. I like personal, writing, creative non-fiction, or memoir much better than my critical term of “self-indulgent blather” or “confessional vice.” Ouch, that last one really hurts.;-)
I do admit that I LOVE the feedback and the conversation and the give and take of blogging. I suppose I write for process, product and the conversation and connection that comes from it. I want is all!! Is that a vice?;-)
I would be curious to hear what Carolyn has to say about blogs and the internet and whether she thinks a literary life can be had in the blogosphere.
My inner critic who sounds an awful lot like my father says that I will not be a succesful writer until I have a book at Barnes and Noble. My Super-ego like critic has strict rules and ideas about what it means to be a writer ( for me) and not for you or anyone else. There needs to be an agent, a publisher that everyone has heard of and an isbn number. I am sure once I achieve those things the critic will come up with other requirements.
Thanks again for your very kind encouragement. So incredibly kind of you to forward my blog to Ms. See. And, without you this series would not be happening. Merci!!xo
Miss Janey: Good advice. Writers groups can be very-very-very bad. Oh, the memories I have of having to sit through the writings of a man who wrote about his Vietnam war memories in the most mind numbing prose that I have ever heard. And, the critiquing of my work was never helpful it was more like “I didn’t like it.” I asked gently, “Why?” I would receive thoughtful answers like:”I don’t know. I just didn’t.” Thanks, that was helpful!
I have never read the Stephen King book on writing. Do you recommend?
And, thank you! I appreciate your kind encouragement. I do think I am a writer. I just don’t say that I am very often.
All writers can relate to this moment (except for wildly successful ones who lack self-doubt). I’ve so experienced the awkward moment of admitting that I’m a poet, and no, I haven’t really published, and no, I don’t have a book.
I feel more like a writer since I’ve kept my daily poetry blog, I know that for certain. And you are a writer, darn it.
But that book you are reading is wise. And I can’t wait to hear more of your insight into it!
Christine: I have a bit of magical thinking around writing. I know I do. I would never say I had writer’s block if I didn’t as I would be afraid that by saying it I would make it happen.Just like people won’t usually lie and say there has been a death in the family if there hasn’t been just to get out of something as they fear that by saying it that they will make it happen. I know. Crazy, huh?
Yeah, people also go ballistic when they hear you are childless and at home. Never a good reaction comes from that.
I think that the desire for cello is now more imaginary than real. It is just a symbol of yet another way that my childhood was less than I wished it would have been( me and every other person in the world. Huh?);-)
Storialist: I do wonder if even wildly succesful writers are free of doubt. I bet that breed of writer is rarer than unicorns. I have heard about writers who check their Amazon.com sales rating the way I check my email( i.e., obsessively).
Anyone who has read your blog would say you are a writer. I know you know it—but I am saying it again. I love your poems. I would buy a book of your poems and I would read them again and again. You will have a book and I will buy it and I will ask for your autograph.
Carolyn’s book on writing is really inspiring. I do hope you pick it up and let me know what you think of it.
I think you are being too hard on yourself. I tend to talk myself off the ledge (not back in through the window, mind you – off the ledge) creatively too.
You just have to keep in mind that there are many many people who live to disapprove. Even if you had been published – some would still find fault. If you had a moderate bestseller, then it would be – “oooh – no Harry Potter now is it?” Some are never happy.
My husband makes his living writing (entertainment) and has been dissed by people at parties for the genre (?) and by people who do not understand the process at all. It happens. I fume inwardly (still – working on that) but he handles it well.
I am trying to make a creative career for myself – as soon as I can convince myself that I can ….
I am getting Ms. Sees book after reading this . Hang in there.
I forgot the most important part! You CAN write. I look forward to your blog. You will do what you wan to do. Good writing is good writing.
Great post and great reminder! Sometimes my writing is all talk. I keep this quote from E.L. Doctorow over my desk:
Writing is an exploration. You start from nothing and learn as you go. If you do it right, you’re coming up out of yourself in a way that’s not entirely governable by your intellect. That’s why the most important lesson I’ve learned is that planning to write is not writing. Outlining a book is not writing. Researching is not writing. Talking to people about what you’re doing, none of that is writing. Writing is writing.
Happy writing in Valencia!
Karen
My parents wouldn’t let me quit playing the violin and viola, and they weren’t into driving me anywhere, they made me catch the bus everywhere, but they did pay for the lessons, they always said I’d appreciate it when I was an adult. They actually named me after a composer – Imogen Holtz (daughter of Gustav Holtz who wrote The Planet Suite), they wanted me to be a classical muscian so much. It didn’t work, but I did have some fun when I got do go to Europe when I was 17 for the world youth orchestra’s championships, other than that, it was just hours and hours of practise, which I hated, in fact I used to read a novel whilst practising my scales, to pass the time more quickly – and in the end I ended working in publishing for Penguin, because of that love of reading… so maybe, somehow I can get around to telling you that evey writer I know is torchered by their writing, it is both a blessing and a curse, and never something that is easy.
Just from an outsiders point of view, avoid talking about your writing as your ‘craft’ as that’s compltely pretentious and annoys the crap out of the likes of me.
Just keep writing and the book deal will come.
sorry, that should be ‘tortured’ not torchered (terrible early morning spelling brain).
So long as you’re still writing AND telling us all about it, lady, you are GOLDEN. And I second K.Line’s sentiment. Just let me at that Cat-mystery loving buzzwrecker!
Hollarback:I do wish there was a way to completely extricate that inner critic. Yet, it seems that the writer and the critic are inextricably linked.
I am sure you are right. I get the agent, publisher and the book in Barnes and Noble and Ms. Cat Critic would sneer that she had never heard of me and what was I writing next.
In your husband’s case I am guessing it is envy that motivates the ugly criticism. Don’t you think? So many people are not living their dream that when they see others who are they often criticize instead of celebrate others success.
I wish you had a blog so I could hear more about your creative process. I sincerely hope you make the leap. I am rooting for you.:-)
Please let me know what you think of the book. I am, obviously, a big fan.
And, thank you so much. I often feel like a big old fraud when it comes to my writing and that maybe I am deluding myself. I am so pleased you enjoy my blog and writing. Your generous comment means a lot to me.
Karen:Think I might type up the phrase: “Sit down, shut up and type” and frame it. And, I am going to add the E.L. Doctorow quote too.
Love these lines: “That’s why the most important lesson I’ve learned is that planning to write is not writing. Outlining a book is not writing. Researching is not writing. Talking to people about what you’re doing, none of that is writing. Writing is writing.”
Happy writing in Paris!!
Imogen:So,I must know, do you appreciate your parents pushing you to study music now that you are an adult?
I love writing and I hate it when I don’t know how to write what I want or, even worse, when I don’t know what to write. I think I love “having written” more than I love writing. But, all and all—it the thing I love doing the most in the world.
No, I promise never to talk about my “craft” as I don’t have a “craft”! LOL!!!
I hope one day you share how you moved from Penguin into Image Consultation. Perhaps you will tell me the story over cocktails in L.A.!;-)
Sal:You are a sweety!! I will keep writing and I hope you keep reading.
That woman is in for a heck of a cat fight.;-)
Oh my god…I TOTALLY relate. Brilliant post!!
No wonder I don’t write, I feel my stories have been told and in far greater way than how I would have told it – that and err the fact that i’m a lazy ass =D
You, my dear, are writer extraordinaire… keep telling us your stories, I’d be pretty sad if you stopped.
Kiki: Thank you so much!! And, thank you for coming to my blog. Please come back again. I will try to be brilliant next time. But, I can’t promise anything.;-)
Lynn:Hey, now stop that Missy! You have great stories to tell them and I, for one, like the way you tell them.
Thank you so much for your the incredibly kind things you said. And, that missing thing is a two way street. I missed you. Do not go away again!:-D
xoxo
Ruby
That narrative was somewhat sad. You needn’t be if you were. I’m sending you positive energy here from far far away.
My guy is a writer as well and it’s tough I know. Keep on writing.
I’m glad I can play an instrument or two, but I could have stopped a few years earlier – like when I decided to go to university and not study music, but PR and communications, the last couple of years were a waste.
I loved my years in orchestra, which was very social (lots of parties). So that is what kept me playing. I’m not a born musician, so found practise like torture.
I think that most of the writers I know all like the end product but not so much the process.
‘If a man criticises my work, I think ‘What an ass.’. If a man compliments my work I think, ‘What an ass’.”.
Some comfort though not everybody (or indeed anybody) can show Evelyn Waugh’s bullet-proof resolve. And a good thing too, or no-one would have anything to write about…
xbadaude
My occupation is generally a conversation stopper.
It can go one of two ways
“Oh I do not know how you do it, but you do have those amazing holidays”
OR more commonly
“school was crap and now I earn more than those stupid teachers anyway”
I do find that by blogging that I will do something, does encourage me to fulfil my ambitions, small steps….
Hey i have just seen your ‘copyright’ what more validation do you need?
Songy: It is best to not have that doubt inducing conversation. I have it less and less and just write and hope that one day I will be a “real writer.”
Tell writing boyfriend that I wish him great writing mo-jo!:-)
Thanks, Songy, for your good vibes and nice thoughts.xo
Imogen:I can play the tambourine and the symbol.;-) But, I do think maybe music would have helped me with my math skills that are sorely lacking. I am sure you have seen the studies that suggest studying music does improve math skills.
The past tense of “to write” is my favorite verb of all time.:-)
Badaude: If I had that kind of confidence that Evelyn Waugh has I am not sure I would have been a writer.xo
Indigo:I have teacher friends that say the same thing. So funny, people have a lot of feelings about teaching/teachers. But, it could be worse, we could be attorneys.;-)
As a fan of your photography I am happy to hear that your blog is inspiring you to fulfill your ambitions!
A copyright is nice. An Isbn number and my name to be found on Amazon.com would be much nicer.;-)
oh, i hate those kind of conversations. people tend to be judgy.
but no matter, all of us here think and believe you’re a good writer. =]
btw, i’ve been following that “wise advise”.
I have news for you. The problem is the American perspective on art. In America, art is not worth diddly if it has no commercial value. I have been meaning to blog about this, so I won’t go into it too much here.
In France, by contrast, if the mailman says he’s an artist, the French person just says “groovy.” And he/she means it. They never ask “Have you sold any paintings?” The French respect and encourage creativity for its own sake. The government supports the arts in ways and with means that would boggle the US government’s mind (such as it is).
The French believe deeply in the inherent value of creation and would not dare to question any human being’s right and need to create, or to look down on him/her for doing so…
You do not have to MAKE MONEY from your art for it to be considered valid here.
Only in America, baby.
So when you come here and tell people you’re a writer, you won’t get disdainful eyebrows, you won’t get interrogated, you’ll get “groovy.”
Autumn:Yep, judgment never feels good.
You, as always, are very kind to me. The feeling is mutual.
And, it is obvious that you do your writing and don’t just talk about it. Your prolific poetry is proof of that.:-)
Pamela: As if I needed another reason to move to Paris. America is certainly bottom line focused. Product over process. Cash being the measure of all things—including creative success.
I am guilty of this too. But, it is hard to remain immune to the culture in which you live.
I look forward to reading your full anlaysis of art in America versus art in France.
I know from the short time I have spent in France that I felt the sense that an artistic life was more important than any kind of financial success. That is one of the many reasons I love France.
It is groovy to have a mailman who is a painter. And, I feel ( even without any green to back it up) that my life is much richer because I write. But, it would be nice to live in a culture that supported that attitude.
It’s an attitude that’s hard to shake if you grew up in the bottom-line, goal-oriented US. I have the same problem, but, with effort and awareness, it is possible to shed your cultural perspective to some degree, to gradually change from apple pie to tarte aux pommes… Still apples, but no cinnamon, less sugar, different crust…
Just carry the French attitude around with you and pull it out and wrap yourself in it when you doubt yourself. Till you get here.
Pamela:I think one of the things I fell in love with France for is that sense of creative freedom and the profound appreciation for art, beauty and aesthetics.
I do try to hold that French attitude the best I can. But, on occasion, the eyes of the “other” can affect my sense of self and my identity as a writer.
I wish that the French shops sold a cloak of invincibility that I could wear stateside—until I get to France and no longer have the need for such defenses or protections.;-)
You can break the rules in baking too, just follow the basic ones of proportions and then add whatever else you want. So these rules for writing, they could be like that too. Follow the basic principals and improvise the rest, it usually turns out way better than you’d expect. Example: I tend to add chocolate to recipes that don’t usually include it. But it’s never failed once!