Should the Grass Be Greened?
By Jan O'Hara | June 20, 2011 |
In the midst of a luxury hotel in the Sonoran Desert, I should be having the perfect holiday. Palm trees sway overhead, the sun warms my back, and the fragrance of a thousand annual blossoms tickles my nose. Then my husband scans the depths of the artificial lake before us.
“Uh, Jan, why is the water turquoise?”
Sometimes I wish we weren’t the kind of people who notice such things. To be honest, it’s a buzz-kill. But once alerted, we also observe there are no insects, no aquatic weeds, and what water fowl are present only skirt the edge of the lake, yet never choose to swim…
The answer to his question, of course, is that choices beget consequences. Some time ago, hotel management decided that guests and desert landscaping didn’t mix. Kids would do better if they chased their balls onto lawns instead of into the prickly pear, margaritas tasted better unsanded, and snakes didn’t deserve the opportunity to be charming dinner companions.
Landscapers elected to go with a cultivated and careful beauty near the hotel, and because irrigation and chemicals make it possible, that aesthetic simply spread. And spread. Perhaps beyond the boundaries of what is sustainable and best.
Does this metaphor apply in your writing life? I know it does in mine.
I’ve noticed a tendency for writers to devalue their natural talents, perhaps because the writing can feel easier. (Not “easy”, because writing is seldom that.) Sometimes I think we are so used to telling stories about struggle, we believe that’s the only way to exist. If it isn’t hard, it doesn’t count. If we aren’t wrung out by the process, it can’t contain much worth.
Sometimes we have preconceptions about what a real writing career looks like and spend inordinate amounts of energy to get there.
For instance, I know people who write amazing novels who feel less-than because they can’t write short. I see people who write killer flash fiction who despair because they don’t write long.
There are people who write incredible blog posts who don’t feel they are writers; others who craft amazing non-fiction, yet apologize for taking up space in a group of novelists.
Some of us fixate on a genre and won’t consider another — even when we’re struggling and the alternative promises to suit our voice.
We can speculate about why there’s so much tendency to distrust certain kinds of beauty, and to contort ourselves into uncomfortable shapes, but one thing I’ve observed: when a writer makes room for their natural talents, when they finally honor their intrinsic gifts, that’s when magic occurs. Their page counts increase; they find their agent or publisher; they sell their short story or novel; they come to feel of use.
In the end, “bloom where you are planted” is excellent advice. Be proactive in the face of adversity. Learn resilience. Triumph despite it all.
But don’t forget to plant where you’re blooming. It isn’t cheating to paddle downstream if you were always meant for the ocean. It isn’t lazy to seek out joy and give it back to the world. You aren’t inferior if you aim for the confluence of natural ability and marketplace. I’d argue that makes you brilliant.
As for my desert metaphor, there are hotel guests who’d prefer a poolside cactus garden to a stridently verdant lawn, even if that means a little sand in their swim shorts. I know, because I’m in their party.
Are you one of the people who stopped fighting your gifts and found your niche? If so, what would you tell your fellow writers? What tipped you into the change?
A USA Today bestselling author, former family physician and academic, Jan O’Hara (she/her) left the world of medicine behind to follow her dreams of becoming a writer. She writes love stories that zoom from wackadoodle to heartfelt in six seconds flat: (Opposite of Frozen; Cold and Hottie; Desperate Times, Desperate Pleasures). Her latest Christmas novella, The Cowboy’s Comeback Christmas, is part of a 9-author-strong anthology (A Cowboy This Christmas: A Sweet Romance Anthology). She also contributed to Author in Progress, a Writer’s Digest Book edited by Therese Walsh.
Perhaps it’s because we’re always comparing ourselves to others that we can’t be happy. A small dung beetle can’t be a lion, but it can be the best dung beetle possible…and how empty the African plains would be if we had only lions and no other beautiful animals, large or small… the dung beetle forms a critical part of the ecosystem and is of vital importance.
As writers, we need to embrace that about our own talent. It’s taken a long time for me to get to that point, but I’m finally there and happy to be in my little niche that allows me to stay true to my own voice.
Judy, South Africa
Jan, Truly food for thought. Thanks for sharing.
And good luck as you seek to become no longer qualified to speak as an unpublished writer. It will be good to have yet another physician joining our ranks.
Wanting to become a writer and considering yourself a writer are two different things. Although I’ve published or contracted 8 novels and a handful of short stories, because they’re with publishers with limited distribution, nobody can find them and nobody’s heard of me. I have to believe I AM a ‘real’ writer no matter what the checking account says.
Terry
I lived in Tucson for two years and it gave me a new perspective on beauty, having lived only in the Northeast and Midwest before that. It didn’t suit me to live there, yet I learned to appreciate it. I had to stop feeling bad that the critters and reptiles did not appeal to me.
Just like in writing, we all gravitate toward what works for us but it doesn’t mean we don’t see the value in everything else.
Dang, girl, you’re good. “Plant where you’re blooming” – Can I hear an Amen?
“It isn’t cheating to paddle downstream if you were always meant for the ocean.”
Love that. I’ve been guilty of ‘forcing it.’ Sometimes because of my perception of how my work will be viewed by others. I’m back to paddling with the flow, in the currents of the waters that brought me this far.
Thanks for this, Jan. I can’t be reminded enough. Posts like these reveal YOUR natural ability and brilliance!
Jan, your posts are lovely and soothing, like a vacation for a writer’s soul. :)
It really is too easy to downplay our talents and abilities, especially when we have notions about what a “real” writing career looks like, and whether we’ve met those qualifications. It’s more important to let the magic happen. :)
Hi Jan,
“It isn’t lazy to seek out joy and give it back to the world.”
Well, you gave me a bit this morning–thank you!
Thanks for this. I’d like to think I’m true to my voice, but doubts creep in anyway, especially when you’re writing to sell and pay bills. And the industry isn’t always supportive. That’s why I like read the WU posts, and hanging out with the group. You guys get it. :)
Yes yes yes, I am! For so long, I thought I had to write Literary, that I would only be worthwhile if I wrote the Next Great American Novel. And while I made some progress, it never felt… natural.
Then, honestly, I read Twilight, and I realized I was seeking a perfection that wasn’t necessary. Maybe wasn’t even good (for me). I started experimenting, looking for what was “fun” to me as a writer. The answer wasn’t vampires either (okay, I never even tried) but it WAS a more casual, commercial voice than I’d been using previously.
“We can speculate about why there’s so much tendency to distrust certain kinds of beauty, and to contort ourselves into uncomfortable shapes, but one thing I’ve observed: when a writer makes room for their natural talents, when they finally honor their intrinsic gifts, that’s when magic occurs.”
Jan, that is pure genius. 200%. At least, it’s certainly been true for me.
Love this “one thing I’ve observed: when a writer makes room for their natural talents, when they finally honor their intrinsic gifts, that’s when magic occurs. ”
So very true. When we allow ourselves to be who we are (not who we should be) then we live.
Thanks for posting. Definitely going to post a link for my writing group.
Amen! Thanks for a great post, Jan.
I say “paint with the colors God gave you.” Don’t try to be something you are not; don’t compare yourself to others. Find your niche (ya gotta look for it), then revel in it!
Gorgeous post, Jan. I think writing talent is like hair styles — you always want a bit of the opposite of what you have. But perming and straightening and all that only weakens what you have. I admire many writers, but I’ve finally come to realize I won’t ever write like them. I can only write like me.
[…] Writer Unboxed Redirect: Must Love Cacti Leave a Comment Posted by Jan O'Hara (Tartitude) on 06/20/2011 If I have groceries in the fridge by tonight, and the laundry has been started, and I’ve caught up on phone calls, I will have a personal Tartitude post up tomorrow or Wednesday. In the meantime, though, a post on Writer Unboxed about honoring your gifts: Should the Grass Be Greened? […]
Yes! Love your comment about being meant for the ocean. I need to print that out and put it somewhere I can easily see.
I haven’t even tried to get published yet, so I can’t testify that I’ve achieved any of that kind of success, but a few years ago, after I finished my first novel, I tried to write for what I thought the market would want. Everything came out flat and stale. Once I decided to forget all that and just write what I wanted to write, I was much more productive and, more importantly, happier with my work–and I started believing that it might not be so unmarketable after all. Time will tell on that front, but at least I am satisfied with what I have done.
“But don’t forget to plant where you’re blooming. It isn’t cheating to paddle downstream if you were always meant for the ocean. ”
Wonderful reminder and post. Thanks, Jan!
I’ll gladly say “I write”, but I’m reluctant to say “I’m a writer” until I finish my project to the point where I can submit it to publishers and such. And hey, once I receive that first dollar, I might even go as far as calling myself an “Author”. And were I to leave my day job to write full time, I’d accept calling myself a “Professional Writer.”
But hey, the labels aren’t what make me happy. Writing makes me happy, and bringing joy to those who read my stuff makes me happy.
I write what I’d enjoy reading, and I’m pretty darn sure there are others who enjoy reading the same stuff. Otherwise my, favorite authors wouldn’t have a market. Maybe those other readers might like my stuff too…that’d make me happy.
It’s always pushing the rock uphill, isn’t it? Worth it, though.
I had a very wise mentor, who shared with me her experiences of trying to write genre romance – and killing off one of her MC’s at the end of each first chapter. At the end of 3 attempts, Lydia accepted the inevitable and joined MWA and wrote murder mysteries.
I would have liked to write mystery too, but that’s not MY voice. Nor is my voice (at least not now) SF/F, though I love to read it.
I do think we have to learn to write outside our comfort zone, at least when it comes to queries and synopses, if we are novelists, but I’m very happy writing now (except when I’m not, lol!)
I’m just going to echo what everyone else here has said–great and wise post.
You people make a wonderful balm to a cheese-grated ego. Thank you so much. I’m having one of those months where the words don’t come easily – partly because I’m fighting my voice – and it’s both humbling and gratifying to see that my self-butt-kicking can resonate for others.
Judy, I love the dung beetle metaphor! Both for the humor and its aptness.
Richard, thank you! I’m surprised at how many physicians are writers.
Terry, I had a discussion on my blog about that subject. The general opinion, and one that works for me, is that anyone who writes is a writer. As for chequing account balances as a measure of worth, that’s a whole ‘nother mind game you’re smart to avoid.
Amy Sue, I’m partial to the four seasons, myself; I can’t see making the Sonoran Desert my home, but it really has an exotic beauty of its own, doesn’t it?
Anne G-B, thank you, chica.
Vaughn, there is a difference between having a work ethic and forcing it. Good luck with your words.
Donna and Rosemary, thank you!
Cathy, do you think there’s a survivor voice? That makes sense to me. Personally, I like to eat. I’d probably sing a post in high C if it meant I’d put food on my table.
Kristan, so glad this affirmed things for you. “I realized I was seeking a perfection that wasn’t necessary. Maybe wasn’t even good (for me).” That dang perfectionism really is a soul-stealer.
Joelle, I wonder how much of our lives are given to the mask. Glad you enjoyed it.
Cindy, thank you!
Karen, now you have me wondering how visual artists struggle with this issue. There must be parallels.
liz, ain’t that the truth, LOL. Wonderful metaphor, too. :)
Kristin, I’ll wish for you that the marketplace rewards your efforts, but being happy with one’s own work is huge.
Therese, thanks to you and Kathleen for opening your wonderful blog to my musings!
Roxanne, you sound like you know yourself well. Bravo. I hope you get your fangirl moment, too. :)
Alex, indeed!
Beverly, LOL. It is interesting how our reading tastes don’t necessarily indicate our writing preferences. The geek in me would love to do a study to see how much they overlap.
Lisa, thank you!
Hey Jan, I sometimes feel I have to defend my contemporary stories when everyone is telling me to ride the wave and write paranormal. But, vampires and blue-skinned aliens just aren’t in me. Thanks for the encouragement to stick with my true voice.
“It isn’t lazy to seek out joy and give it back to the world.” Words to live by.
This is a lesson for much of life, and a lesson that needs relearning often.
I’ve published only one short story, so I don’t know if I’ve found my niche exactly. I mean, I don’t have a fan base or readers of my books since the books aren’t published. But I love what I write and don’t apologize for what I write anymore. Agents may not like my work, and while that may disappoint me, it doesn’t undo me.
Ah this is a good one…
It takes time for anyone to discover that sweet spot where abilities meet passion. Perhaps the only way to find it is to make enough mistakes, wrong genre, wrong length, form whatever, until you feel that “ahhhh” of getting it right.
However, I think that so much can be learned from making yourself do things that aren’t comfortable. Like to write in first person? Write something in third. Like to write in past tense, try present for awhile. Like to paint abstracts? Take a figure drawing class…
Because if we stretch ourselves enough we might just find new places where we excel–or if not, we will at least learn something to bring back to our home and make that writing/painting/creating better than it was before
I’m one of those bloggers who refuses to call herself a writer. Thank you for the thoughtful and insightful post.
Fantastic post!
I used to frequent the Books & Authors section on Yahoo! Answers regularly and the snobbiness towards writing never ceased to amaze me. Young writers believed the only kind of “real writing” that existed was fiction. Seasoned writers behaved as though unpublished writers were little more than pond scum teeming with bacteria.
Me? I’m in the middle as a published non-fiction writer/former journalist turned blogger. A writer is someone who writes. Period. Doesn’t matter if they write well, they’re still a writer in my eyes. And just because someone is not a published writer doesn’t mean they are wannabe hacks either.
Several times people bashed me because they believed I was full of it or arrogant about writing (I prefeR the term “brutally honest but still as polite as possible”) yet no one could find my work. I finally decided to walk away because of the negativity, the rudeness, the snobby attitude towards non-fiction writers, and the immaturity.
I consider myself a talented writer and have for several years, though admittedly I still have my days where I feel I’m simply a wannabe. I suppose I stopped fighting it and realized where I belonged in college. I’ve tried my hand at fiction and it’s just not for me. Tried my hand with journalism and enjoyed it while it lasted. Now? I’m enjoying blogging and for the time being that’s good enough for me.
Thank you so much for this post. I came across a link to it on Twitter, and it absolutely resonated with me. I’ve been trying to find my voice for several years, continually writing things that seemed like a good idea at the time because they might sell, they might be what the market wants, they might lead to an actual writing career instead of a hobby.
What I learned is that if I don’t love it, I won’t do it. If I don’t feel it, it shows in the writing. For me, commercial fiction isn’t going to happen. And I’m finally okay with that. It was a huge relief, actually, to finally accept it and move on. Because now I like writing again. Thank you for validating the many kinds of writers in this world. It’s okay that I love to read fiction, yet can’t seem to write it. Every writer needs readers. And maybe I’ll become a writer with readers of my own, in my own skin. It feels good.
What a great post, Jan! Very thoughtful, and great images.
The question you raise is a very important one and I think it can’t be stressed enough that a writer should go with his or her instinct–what feels right–and not what other books or people tell you, however well-intentioned. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t listen to other people but when something is natural to you, you shouldn’t feel forced out of it. If I’ve learned anything in my years as a writer, it is that there are as many different ways of writing as there are writers! I didn’t realise that as a newbie and was a little disturbed to read things which said you needed to do lots of planning, for instance–because I never did. I had the starting point and the final destination but what I was going to need on the journey I simply didn’t know!It felt like I had to set out to find out, not have a travel itinerary blocked in and planned in obsessive detail. I learned soon enough to follow my instinct but reacting against the planning advice, I had a tendency to scorn planning and planners at all–but now, know that what works for me may not work for others. And there’s no right or wrong way. Just your own way.
Thanks for sharing! Great observation. And a good reminder that we should strive to be ourselves even in the face of fads and fashions – in fact, genre-writing can be a constriction from some of us who should probably break out of the shackles in walk away in the freedom of nature.
But it takes bravery to do that and a lot of self-confidence!
Very hard to do…
What a phenomenal post this is! Truly, Jan, but you’ve made my heart sing. So much of finding your writing style, niche, voice … is not only practice, but an all out treasure hunt. So many of us start out forcing it, believing that we need to “fit in” with what’s already arrived on the shelves. Safe, maybe, but boring and artificial. It can take such a long time to trust your own voice and recognize your own sweet spot, but it’s so essential to claiming your true writing self.
Superb post and especially fitting for me today because I’m going through my second book with a fine-tooth comb based on certain “rules” I learned in an online class. Now I’m wondering why I’m doing it because it has been like trying to fit a square in a round hole. I liked what I wrote before I started messing around with it based on these “rules”. AACK! I think it was Melissa who said, “It takes time for anyone to discover that sweet spot where abilities meet passion. Perhaps the only way to find it is to make enough mistakes, wrong genre, wrong length, form whatever, until you feel that “ahhhh” of getting it right.” I do feel that “ahhh” when I write exactly what I’m trying to tell the reader and sometimes the rules just don’t cut it. How can there be set rules for our creativity, outside of spelling incorrectly or not putting a period at the beginning of a sentence? Thank you for allowing me to vent!
Patti
Wonderful, thoughtful post and beautifully written too. I can’t believe you’re still the unpublished author blogger! Thanks for sharing and I’m with you in the sand in the swimsuit party!
The first time I let people finally read my novels, they loved the trilogy I had written from the heart, and thought the one written for the industry was missing something. They couldn’t tell me what, but I knew. It was me. It was my passion, my experience, my love of the characters who drove the story instead of me driving them. It was the difference between being pulled along on a hayride and driving cattle to the slaughterhouse.
Now I write for me.
I am absolutely one of those people, Jan! Thank you so much for this post…it was a great start to my morning.
As I really examine the timeline, there are 3 things that helped me make a profound change in my writing:
Julia Cameron – I had a baby about this time last year and despaired of ever writing another word. After a dose of Julia for Christmas, I continued with The Sound of Paper into January and bit by bit, she encouraged me to believe again and just try. It worked.
Boomer Business Conference – A completely unrelated-to-writing conference had a workshop on Building Strengths-Based Teams and it turned a light on in me about writing. The keynote speaker gave the exact same message you are: Celebrate your strengths. There’s no one else exactly like you. If you focus on improving your strengths, rather than your weak points, you will get 10 times as much done. (TRUE!)
Blogging – Writers In The Storm has been a wonderful home for more than a year but this year I busted out on my own, thanks to lots of help from Kristen Lamb. A solo blog has shot my creativity into the stratosphere and confirmed to me that I really do write short.
Thanks for a great blog! I hope you get many, many success stories. :-)
Bravo!
Joan, as you can see from many comments here, if your heart isn’t in it, that probably comes through in the writing anyway.
Barbara, thank you!
marta, there are a few contexts in which being undone are fun, but writing ain’t one of them. ;) I’m told voice is something we develop the more we write, so keep at it and good luck!
melissa, I agree. I’m personally not happy unless I’m stretching myself, although I’d prefer yoga to the rack. :D And writing is about getting comfortable with making messes, isn’t it?
gigi, ah, the label itself squicks a lot of people out. With non-writing folks, I wouldn’t call myself a writer yet – I’ll say I write – but in my mind if you’re blogging, you 100% are a writer.
Kim, if you want a geeky idea about why hierarchies are important to some, you might read my post of a month ago on envy. Otherwise, good on you for trying different things until you find the best-for-now fit.
Denise, something I learned in medicine is that the excellent copers will struggle a long time rather than surrender to what gives them hope. You sound like an excellent coper. :D I hope your bliss brings you to good places.
Sophie, with 50+ books to your credit, your advice is invaluable. Thank you. You know, I had to learn this in medicine? After learning a ton of information and guidelines, of course, it took trial and error to find what worked for me and my patients. There simply was no other way.
Claude, it’s hard, isn’t it? The paradox is that confidence comes from having chosen and surviving no matter what happens rather than coming first. And isn’t it great there are so many options now in writing? Cross-genre pieces seem quite common.
Barbara, yes, a treasure hunt, and I think we’re all hoping we won’t find a rusty tin can for our reward. :) So glad you enjoyed this.
Patti, ah. Can I pass you a bottle of water for round eleventy-seven against the rules? :) Only you can decide whether you’re feeling growth pains or square-peggish feelings. I hope you’ll figure it out soon.
Kate, thank you so much! I’m willing to share my sunscreen but you’ll have to apply it yourself.
Heather, that’s quite a metaphor in its own right. (Poor cows.) How lovely that you had the experience of finding your niche right off the bat to know that something was off when you changed.
Jenny, I love Julia Cameron, too. Neat about that conference. Sounds like you got some grounding in positive psychology and good information there. And obviously the blogging agrees with you. :)
Mari, thank you!
I feel as though I am of whom you speak! I think?
I love to read……I love to day dream about writing…..I love, love to think about writing…I love to want to blog about writing or write in a blog……I can even set a stage, if you will, to write……I have things I would like to write about, and have. But, I am not a writer! How dare I even whisper it? Who am I to consider it? I would seem uppity and knowledgeable. I would move, with purpose, in my life. I don’t even think, in my opinion, it’s even about whether or not I am being paid for writing. In my novice mind, I can appreciate a writer that does not make a living at it. So, why can I not join the ranks? Why can I not mention, in idol conversation, that I’m working on a story or even go so far as to use that four letter word and admit that I am writing a BOOK?
I’m not, I won’t, I couldn’t…. Yes, this post is more about types of writing and I do apologize, but I’m not there yet, so this is my perception of your post. Thank you for putting it out there for me. I must answer these questions for myself. If I do decide that I am a writer, I will diligently try not to put a label on the type of writing I write. I will let it flow freely and allow IT to decide what form it becomes and when I have accomplished this I will sit back and smile because… I write!!!
Kandy, sometimes we know the dream is too fragile to share — that to do so too soon would give others the power to wound us. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with gathering confidence and courage before going public. There are quite a few writers who break the news to their families with their publishing deals. :) In essence, do what’s right and best for you.
Thanks for commenting.