Losing (and Gaining) Heart (and Nerve)
By Julianna Baggott | September 6, 2013 |
photo by Rayani Melo
Early on in my career, I was surprised when my fellow writers gave up. Some quit before they even began. Some quit right after getting their MFA in creative writing. Some quit after they started publishing short stories. I think what kills me now is how many great writers quit after they’ve published their first, second, third novels …
I’ve read many beautiful books that were rejected by agents, or accepted by agents and then rejected by editors, or even accepted by editors but subsequently lost in the shuffle of published books. And I know many writers who’ve published a first novel and a second, but then were cut loose from publishing — because of dim sales figures — and they felt fired. They felt like it was over.
It’s not over.
At certain points along the way, it felt like time itself weeded out the crowd, but of course it’s not just time. It’s the long unpaid hours, the brutal truth of the industry, the wear and tear on the defensive armor, the disappointments, the blame, even a natural aversion to the supposed literati scene…. Why am I here? Why am I doing this?
Sometimes it’s even the paralysis that comes with success and hype.
Sometimes your life allows you so little time that you decide it’s better not to want to write than to want it and be denied the page. You stop wanting to write.
Writers lose heart. They lose nerve.
And we lose a lot of great writing.
But it’s not over – this is what I want to say to these writers who have stopped. Come back.
Here are the two questions that naturally emerge: How do you get back to the page? And, once there, how do you protect that relationship with the page?
Well, therapy is often good.
But here are some other ways you might try to begin again:
- Stop criticizing literature. If you exercise your critical voice too much, you risk building up the critical muscle so much that it strangles the creative voice before it has a chance to get through a paragraph.
- Instead read what you first fell in love with. Go backward and pick up the thread you lost. Why are you here? Sure as hell not for the company of the supposed literati – they’re a boorish group. You’re here more likely because you read someone’s words and those words bloomed in your head in a transformative way. Find that again.
- Pretend you’re someone else. Seriously, just write A NOVEL BY and then make up a name. Write under that name, in that other voice. You might choose to send this book out under this name or your own. Don’t worry about that now.
- In this way and in the metaphorical way, lose yourself. This might allow you to write something more poetic or more commercial – this other person who is not you doesn’t have to have live under the same expectations.
- Get rid of all notion of audience except for one person. This one person might be a friend, a child of yours, or a younger version of yourself. Now whisper the story you want to tell into this one ear – urgently.
- Find urgency. Tend to that urgency. Keep it stoked.
- If your feed is filled with friends winning prizes and getting book deals, test yourself with it. After reading this kind of news, do you feel more fired up or deflated? If the answer is B. Deflated, cut yourself off from Facebook (and other social media). If you use it for one-on-one communication, only go to your page – don’t ever hit to home.
- Insulate yourself in the manner you need to. It might just be too noisy to hear your own voice. Turn the noise off – literal and figurative.
- Set aside time to write even if you just gaze. (Choose the time of day when you’re the most energized as possible.)
- Want to write again. Allow yourself to desire the page, the words.
Have ideas of your own? The floor is yours.
Julianna Baggott is the author of over 20 books, including two New York Times Notable Books of the Year, PURE and HARRIET WOLF’S SEVENTH BOOK OF WONDERS. She runs a film and television production company, Mildred’s Moving Picture Show,. Her latest book I’D REALLY PREFER NOT TO BE HERE WITH YOU is a collection of stories, many of which are in development at places like Netflix, Paramount, and Amblin. The feature film WHICH BRINGS ME TO YOU, based on the novel she co-wrote with Steve Almond, is currently streaming. www.juliannabaggott.com
Excellent post, Julianna.
Even those of us who have not lost our first love of writing find it difficult, at times, to press on. With the industry in flux, it’s scary out there. We’re constantly second-guessing ourselves, hoping and praying we’ve made the right decision. I’ve heard, there’s no better time than now to be a writer. Let’s hope so. But in the end, unless we move forward we’ll never know, will we?
Forgive yourself for not being The Best Writer Who Ever Lived.
Hello? Snooki has already been published,so that title is gone!
Seriously though, forgive yourself for quitting and just start over.
I think your excellent ideas could apply to any of the arts, especially those who have gone through academia. Thanks for this post!
Having had a forced break from writing due to family ‘stuff’, there’s a lot of good stuff in here I can use to get myself going again. Thank you…
It is so hard to keep going when you feel like your spinning your wheels. Sometimes it’s best to just get out of the car for a bit. There’s nothing like NOT writing for a period to motivate you to go back to it. But I like your idea of pretending you are someone else and writing under another name for the moment. What a liberating thought!
Excellent post, Julianna. I totally agree with your points, especially the one about negative self talk. My advice to any writer who has done the hard work of producing the best work one can is to avoid getting down on oneself. Instead, be kind to yourself. Give yourself a break. It’s good for the creativity!
You addressed the topic quite well…great post. When we’re struggling, when that summit seems forever distant, that’s a good moment to glance over our shoulder and see just how distant the valley has become. If only those who chose to stay behind or turn back had appreciated the view they might not have made the choices they made. As you say, though, it’s tough and it tries to beat you down. Another step. Another step.
Well said, and at exactly the right time for me. First novel published (timing? luck?). Second novel that took 11 years to write, unpublished and destined to remain so, I’m afraid (timing? luck?). Third novel sputtering. Big questions looming: Why do I write? Whom do I write for? Thanks for such a salient, encouraging post. It ain’t over ’til the fat lady sings!
My daughter was touted by her professors to be the ‘new voice of her generation’. She was the gifted writer in a prestigious writing program and it was all the most exciting thing I had ever witnessed. She was brilliant.
That ‘new generational voice’ may never be heard because she couldn’t be that person and all these years later she doesn’t write creatively at all.
I don’t know now if she gave up or just stopped the momentum of a direction she wasn’t comfortable with and didn’t want to travel.
I am not even one tenth the writer she had the potential to be and I write Romance, so I will hardly change the world.
Still I keep going and can’t stop because I love this direction and feel great when I am researching, working, editing – all of it!
I am not anyone’s voice but my own, but maybe my work will resonate with someone.
Early praise can be a really tricky thing. There’s a prize at Washington College — an airtight endowment — for best senior-class writer. When I was a kid it was 30k. Now I think it’s up to 70k. For decades, not one of those writers went on to publish a book. Finally I think it was a nontraditional student (older) who won it and published?
But here’s the thing about your daughter. She’s likely using her excellent communication skills in her current field, and creative writing might not be done with her yet. One of the things about writing is that you do get better to a certain extent as a function of age — a writer at 40 has more to say than a writer at 20. Her talent is there and one day she might want to lay into those hours to hone her craft.
julianna
Lovely post and well-timed advice. Love this, especially, “Go backward and pick up the thread you lost.” Thank you, Julianna.
Such a unique and very important post. I want to thank you so much for writing it. Lately I’ve been feeling the “what the hell am I doing this for?” and I’m going to use your suggestions to help myself out. I know inside that I WILL NOT STOP, but I’m down about the whole writing industry right now and don’t feel like “pressing on”. Thank you for caring enough about our craft to create this post.
Patti
What a lovely post. It’s hard to stay positive, stay focused in a field that offers so much rejection. You offer great ideas for staying motivated, or getting back in the game after facing one too many setback (or rejection).
An excellent post, one that I will bookmark and refer to often. I especially like your first point regarding that critical voice. I often refer to it as my inner gremlin who simply won’t shut up. It must be silenced!
Glad this seems to be helping. There have to be means to sustain. Even sometimes if you’re tricky yourself back to the page… I’ll be heading back to some books I first fell in love with b/c just writing this made me miss their initial blooming ….
julianna
Julianna-
There is so much to love in this post. I’m struck by how often this theme comes up on WU: writers lose heart. The cause? Most often, industry difficulties and disappointments. The cure? Getting back to writing.
I want to pick up on a throw-away suggestion you made before setting down your excellent list of advice. Therapy. A funny line, for sure, and yet there’s something to think about there. I don’t mean that fiction writers are all head cases. (Though most seem to want to believe they are.)
Disappointments and discouragement come when expectations and hopes aren’t met. But where do those expectations and hopes come from in the first place?
When many begin writing there is an expectation of reward. It’s usually balanced by realism yet the secret dream of success lingers inside. And of course what most think of as success is highly difficult to achieve. The odds are a little better than making the Olympic team or becoming a star ballerina, but still they are long.
Why do folks need that kind of external success? Getting an agent, getting a contract, critical acclaim, fame, money and high public regard? All represent approval…approval that must to some degree not already exist inside oneself.
Getting a story out into the world is a strong motive too, of course. I don’t discount that. But coupled with that can be an inner lack that is wholly human and nearly universal.
Much has been written about it and a self-esteem industry has arisen to help. For fiction writers what does it mean? It means that a powerful reason to write is to make up for the approval we missed. The thing is, the industry will not easily or quickly bestow that approval.
And do you know what–? That’s not the industry’s job. The industry’s job is to publish books. It’s the books themselves that bring the rewards we think we need, not the gatekeepers or prize committees. Yet consider this: To approve of yourself you only have to approve of your own writing, or even the fact that you are writing at all.
Letting go of the approval we may have missed earlier in life is a challenge. But rewarding yourself right now is as easy as sitting down in your writing chair. You are a writer. That’s huge. You are a success. Already. And everyone here at WU approves.
And to help you shift focus, above are Julianna’s ten excellent suggestions. I’m not entirely confident about #3, but hey, nine out of ten is better than any major league batting average. Print and save. I already have.
Although I think your viewpoint is valid, Donald, I’ve seen it from a different perspective. As I troll the halls of Goldwin Smith at Cornell, I see all these MFA wanna-bes. Published writers are brought in from all over the country to read to the faculty and students, followed by a catered dinner. The students, coming from a life of instant gratification, graduate and forget that their professor said that he had written seven novels before one was picked up by a small press. Alison Lurie is emerita from the department, and I rarely see her there. So when the students graduate, they don’t want to spend the time honing their skills. They think the MFA qualifies them to be published. But the reality of large student loans may kick in, and some may have to get back to the real world in order to pay the bills.
People who really want to write, write. It doesn’t matter if they write on the subway, at three in the morning or while making dinner for the kids. They’ll find the time. These are the people whose writing I want to read, because they’re called by a different muse–one that’s impossible to deny.
Giving myself permission to contemplate #3 (self-publishing under a pseudonym) is what has kept me returning to the page for the last year. Crazy to consider it, given all that I’ve invested in an online presence (and enjoyed!), but it’s what’s freed me to have fun again, so I’m going with it. (The strategy, because I haven’t made any decisions.)
It strikes me that sexual desire can be remarkably similar to the desire for writing; some people lose their libido altogether if it’s never sated or if it comes with unbearable pressure to achieve orgasm. One way to reawaken desire is for couples to play together, to become aware of their bodies and physical pleasure, while simultaneously forbidding them to have sex. Guess what usually happens in that scenario.
The corresponding writing experience would be, as you’ve set out, regular exposure to the world of words in a fun, playful, low-expectation setting.
Anyway, sorry. A dry, clinical parallel, perhaps, to a thoughtful and beautiful post.
This is helpful and inspiring to me…right now…today. As I read down the list, #3 appealed to me immediately! Ah, but then I read Donald Maass’ comment. Hhmmm. I think “pretending to be someone else, for writing’s sake only of course, is a grand idea. Not sure I can pull it off, after all I am a “mature woman” who has been WHO I am for a quite some time, but it just might open a door.
Who doesn’t desire approval? I certainly do. Approval, to me, does not have to mean fame or high notoriety, but a “notice” from the right person (or people) can do wonders for my drive. Maybe I am an approval junkie. So what? If that is what it takes to help me achieve my desires I will claim the title.
Anyway…thanks so much for this.
Thank you for writing this article, Julianna.
You invited us to share our own ideas. Here are mine…
Attend writing conferences, workshops, retreats, groups. Being amongst others in love with writing super-charges me and I return to my writing inspired.
It may not be me. It may be the story. That’s why I like to work on more than one project at a time.
And most importantly, for me, the knowledge that I own my career. If I want to continue to succeed I will kepp walking the walk until I reach my ultimate, envisioned goal.
Fabulous post. I especially liked No. 5 – the portion about “…Now whisper the story you want to tell into this one ear – urgently.” Yes!
Reading this post was a great way to start my day! I haven’t been published yet – I’m not even close – but as a fledgling writer, it can be frustrating to feel like I don’t have much to show for myself yet. There is always the feeling that I need to prove myself, to prove I “belong” in a circle of writers… But Julianna is right: the important thing is to remember why I started writing, to focus on how much I enjoy it and to just KEEP WRITING. Kudos, Julianna! And thanks for setting the tone for a productive day of writing…
My mother, the only child of a classically trained pianist and a judge, was born and raised in the smallest town in Alabama. At an early age her parents bought her a violin, which she learned to play well enough to get her into Julliard after college. After two years of intensive study at Julliard, followed by two more years at Columbia, my mother returned to her small town in Alabama, met and married my father—and never played the violin again. When I was old enough to appreciate the tragedy, and asked her why she gave up something she was so clearly good at, she said she couldn’t be a wife and mother and keep her calluses. Once the tips of her fingers went soft from doing laundry and dishes (this is back in the fifties), she couldn’t play at the level she was capable, so she didn’t want to play at all. The lesson here for me, and I hope for the rest of you, is never let your fingers go soft.
I love Writer Unboxed. Always something interesting AND helpful. Thanks, Julianna.
I’m a big fan of Dr. Eric Maisel’s books. He specializes in artists who are blocked, who would would rather chew off their fingers than simply work.
One of Maisel’s key concepts: Mind your self-talk when you’re working, or trying to work, or hoping to work someday. If you tell yourself how hard it is, how futile, how you’d rather be doing something else, and you’ll never measure up, and … and… and. Hush. Just hush. Tell yourself a different story.
Etceteras. Maisel has lots of wonderful advice, techniques, and stories. When I’m blocked, or when I’m coaching someone who is, I reach for one of his books. Highly recommended.
He’d probably like Jan’s advice. I know I did.
“this is what I want to say to these writers who have stopped. Come back.”
What a lovely invitation. Thank you.
Writing tears at the heart and nerves and soul. It can be a cruel adventure, but oh the ride.
I got there. Rejected for the umpteeth time after getting an agent, getting in front of New York publishers and then … nothing. It was time to stop and do something else with my life.
Except there’s no way I could do that. I’m a writer. That’s the beginning, the middle, and the end of the story. So I uploaded everything to Kindle and started another book. I didn’t stop writing. I stopped submitting. I doubt I’ll ever write another query letter as long as I live.
I’ve heard a rumor that JD Salinger did not stop writing and there is a stack of unpublished manuscripts in his house. When I read that (on some blog or other, it’s just a rumor) I thought “I KNEW IT! He’d never stop writing. Never. How would he be able to?”
Julianna,
Your determinism got me back to the keyboard this summer. I finished a short story that I actually like. I guess I should consider sending it out, wading all the way into the wet stuff.
I consider our brief time together a true godsend for me. Your relentlessness is contagious.
Vickie!
I’ve been thinking of you so much. I’m glad you’re back at the page. It’s a relief to me, to be honest. I hope the page holds you there — by brute force!
xo
jb
Thanks so much, Julianna. I haven’t lost heart, but nerve sometimes. Just last night a good friend talked to me about my penchant for perfectionism and how it gets in my way. This is a beautiful post, and much needed.
This is a beautiful post, Julianna. I love your suggestion about writing in another person’s voice. We are so often constrained by our self-image, cutting ourselves off from that authentic flow from within. Thank you for reminding me that writing is about expression, not reflection.
Dear Julianna,
All I can say is thanks for this. I does help to be reminded to go on. And you’ve said it all so well.
An excellent post. I’ve published two books, and I have been experiencing many ups and downs lately as I’m working on my third and fourth at the same time. But I also just moved my family from MD to CA and am struggling in other ways. It all works together. What I love about this post most of all… the encouragement to keep on keeping on. Any career, life choice, relationship, and so on tests us.
And I love your comment about social media… some days it’s a lifeline and other days it’s a punch in the gut. I have to remember that I have the power to walk away when it’s not working for me.
I’ll be sharing. Thanks so much for the uplifting message. I know there are many, including me, who needed it.
Great post, Julianna! You are my role model, hero and all that jazz. It is so true how tough this writing life can be. Thanks for the encouragement.
Excellent post. Two different people have emailed me the link to it today!
One thing I try to do is not compare one book / manuscript to another. Whether something is new or is a mess in the throes of revision, it is unfair and unhelpful to compare it to something that is published. The rest of the world has the freedom to compare my books, if they want. But I try really hard to let each work stand on its own.
Wise and heartening, Julianna.
This is exactly what I needed to see today.
What a wise and wonderful post, Juliana. I especially love #5, because that focuses my attention on the person who will love my work, not the one who won’t. If I’m feeling anxious about the work, it’s often because I’m listening to the wrong voice in my head.
This was helpful. I’ve been having a lot of doubts about whether I wanted to continue trying to write for publication. I’m going to try some of your suggestions and see what happens.
Wonderful post. Wonderful reminders. I’ve shared with my clients, as I am often reminding authors that keeping going is an essential part of the process, but acknowledging the disenchantment and allowing time to regroup is essential, too.
Thanks so much Julianna. This post came at a perfect time for me. I’m working on a tough revision and your post was fresh water. Yes to tuning down the critical voice, and the grand cure of rereading what I love that inspired me to write in the first place. I also like Pretend You’re Someone Else = step out of the way and just play. Another thing I’ve tried when I get too dry and cerebral is to step away from the computer and try to place my body in a position that expresses the character’s emotion in the scene. It’s the, “smile long enough and you begin to feel happy,” idea but with the whole body. When I hold the position the specific feelings of my character awaken in me – words follow. I’m saving your post to reread. Thanks again.
Donald —
Yes. Therapy. I’m all for a great therapist.
But I should note: I use my feelings of having to prove myself, my jealousy (no amount of therapy will ease a twinge here and there), my frustrations with my own failings, my scrawny childhood — a lot of negative feelings I have, that are, as you say, universal. They’re negative energy, yes, but energy nonetheless. And energy is a precious commodity, especially if you can flip negativity and use it positively. I use those negative feelings sometimes to goad me to the computer…. Once I’m there, I’m there. I fall into the work itself — the dream of that world, the rigorous puzzle of the structure, the lives of others…
If you’re a writer, you’re going to get a lot of sentences that begin this way, “Do you know how hard it is to _____________.”
Early on, I started taking each one of those sentences as a gift. (Maybe this is the old athlete in me…) But they helped drive me. (Not that I like a Bobby Knight screaming in my face…)
As for #3, I might be an extreme case of someone with a lot of voices inside of me. Pick up a Baggott book (or by one of my pen names Asher and Bode) and you really don’t know what you’ll get. Writing as N.E. Bode — creating the character of that voice, Bode attended THE ALTON SCHOOL FOR THE REMARKABLY GIFTLESS — was one of the most liberating and joyful experiences of my writing life.
When I was writing, I got outside of myself — as one does when writing first person. It just happened at the authorial level.
For some of those books, I was also a professor and I’d find myself in Bode voice writing letters of recommendation and policy suggestions, and I’d catch myself and have to work hard to turn that voice off.
Though I wrote some hilarious letters of rec and policies…
xo
Julianna
[…] Writers need two things to be successful–time to write and a lot of heart. Jamie Engle dispenses time-balancing advice, while Juliana Baggott explores losing and gaining heart and nerve. […]