What It Really Takes
By Sarah Callender | September 10, 2014 |
The other day, I was doing a quick skim of the September/October Poets and Writers, the subscription I never have time to truly savor because I am too busy (as most of us are) with the more insistent facets of my life: family, part-time teaching job, part-time curriculum writing job, part-time fiction writing job, full-time adventures with my mental health challenges, always-dirty toilets and dishes and clothes, kids’ carpools and music lessons.
But one article caught my eye, partly because it was short and partly because it had the word Perversity in the title. On my best days, I am 20-30% perverse.
In this article, Perversity of Spirit, Rufi Thorpe describes a young student and the question he asks her, with palpable desperation, over a cup of coffee: Do I have what it takes to be a writer?
As I read his earnest question, I recalled the intensity with which I, a newer writer, sought the answer to that same question. I wonder if you, too, have hoped someone would answer that question for you. I bet you have. I think most of us have.
But after sixteen years of practicing fiction, I now understand that no one can determine whether we have what it takes because most of us start out as really lousy writers. If we’re lucky enough to be gifted with a bit of natural talent, then we’re only semi-lousy. Every new writer resembles a yet-to-be inflated balloon, a stubby brown acorn, an unsharpened pencil. No “expert” can know, just by looking at our early writing, whether we have what it takes. No one can know and quantify our potential.
Still, back in the day, I was desperate for someone who would tell me to keep going, to keep writing. Someone who would assure me that I wasn’t like that weird and talentless magician or roller skater or yoga poet juggler who put himself on America’s Got Talent.
Except that I was like that weird yoga poet juggler. I cannot bear to even glance at my Early Work because it would make me armadillo myself into a tight little ball of shame and embarrassment. But I didn’t realize how bad I was because when I shared my first fiction-ish “story” with my dear friend, Dana, she didn’t tell me that my attempt was ridiculous. She didn’t point out my story’s storylessness. Instead, not knowing whether I had what it took, she urged me to keep going. What a gift.
Eight years later, with a complete manuscript under my belt, I forced myself to meet with a developmental editor at a writer’s conference. He read the first pages of my manuscript and said he was willing to work with me. While he lived in California and I in Seattle, I mentioned I would be visiting my parents who lived ten minutes from him. Would he care to review his editorial feedback in person? He was delighted.
A few bits of information: 1) I believed the manuscript needed only a few touch-ups before I could start querying agents. (You see where this is going.) 2) This fellow had worked with Toni Morrison. He wore an ascot. He had four+ decades of experience in the publishing industry. 3) Though I had nothing so impressive on my own resume, I thought, No matter! My manuscript is polished. 4) Did I mention I thought my manuscript was polished?
A few of his written comments via email:
- To me your story isn’t like true life. It’s far too predictable and formulaic.
- Another major problem is Lucy herself [the narrator]. She is so radically clueless, self-deluded, self-absorbed, over eager, and obsessive that readers may become for her to get going with her journey – and it never happens. She doesn’t change, basically.
- At this point I’m not sure whether or not to keep Billie [the narrator’s sister, present in the entire novel]. I’m leaning toward encouraging you to consider, at least as a creative exercise, how the story would be without her entirely.
- In this draft of your book there really is no ending. The characters drift on, still basically unresolved, trying to find acceptance and forgiveness but not in a convincing or climactic manner. Lucy can’t basically be at pretty much the same point she was after 122,000 words or 375 or so pages.
When we met at his sun-filled, art-adorned home in California, his spoken words were only slightly less painful than his written comments. Yet as our meeting was wrapping up, I took a breath and forced myself to speak. “I know this manuscript needs a ton of work, and I know I am missing the fundamentals of story, but . . .” Here I hesitated. “Do you think I should keep going?”
He studied me. I tried not to cry. He frowned.
“I am too busy,” he said, “to take on projects I don’t believe in.”
Oh. OK. Dana’s encouragement was the first invaluable gift. This editor’s time and attention was the second.
I still struggle with story structure. I still have characters who drift. But for sixteen years, I have sat my tush in my writing chair, even when I didn’t feel like it. I have weathered much rejection as my agent shops my two novels around. I have fostered relationships with other writers and writing partners who are equal parts wise, encouraging and tough-lovey. I study others’ fiction. I call myself as “a writer” when I meet new people. I no longer need to ask if I have what it takes because I am doing what it takes, even when what I am doing looks (and feels!) awkward, inefficient or unsuccessful.
When a writer can see a trail of desire in her wake: the desire to grow, the desire to create stories from words, the desire to persevere in spite of rejection, the desire to write even when writing feels like torture, she can stop asking whether she has what it takes.
Your turn! Was there a point you realized you had what it took? What were the hurdles (people-hurdles or logistical hurdles) that tried to thwart you? Whose gifts have encouraged you to keep at it? Please share with the WU community!
Photo compliments of Flickr’s Alan Alfaro.
A Middle Grade novelist (and Middle School English teacher), Sarah Callender lives in Seattle with her family. Because Sarah dislikes cleaning anything that will just get messy again, she tidies the house and weeds the yard only when absolutely necessary. This allows her time to focus on her true–and somewhat fraught–passions: writing, Abe Lincoln, and Tony’s Chocolonely chocolate bars. Equally passionate about mental health advocacy, Sarah is a member of The Stability Network. Sarah’s first novel, LUCY IN BETWEEN, will be published by Margaret Ferguson Books/Holiday House in 2026.
“When a writer can see a trail of desire in her wake: the desire to grow, the desire to create stories from words, the desire to persevere in spite of rejection, the desire to write even when writing feels like torture, she can stop asking whether she has what it takes.”
That’s a true story.
I have what it takes to be a writer. That’s not difficult. Just write.
I have what it takes to be a storyteller. That’s easy. Just tell stories.
I do not have what it takes to be a good story teller or writer. Not yet! There lies my trail of desire.
What people say about my desires are important me, if they were not, I wouldn’t share them, and I would be concerned about being a writer, storyteller, good writer, or good storyteller. I know most ideas are a matter of perspective, because expression of thought is told through perspective. I keep that concept in mind whenever my deeds, accomplishments, and failings are judged. I accept that and I accept that I do not have what takes. Not Yet. But I do KNOW that I can acquire what it takes. Maybe, I will never be seen as a great writer and that’s okay, but I KNOW I can be seen as a good storyteller and writer.
The talent is there.
I need to hone my unpracticed skill.
How do I know it’s there?
“When a writer can see a trail of desire in her wake: the desire to grow, the desire to create stories from words, the desire to persevere in spite of rejection, the desire to write even when writing feels like torture, she can stop asking whether she has what it takes.”
That’s a true story.
I have what it takes to be a writer. That’s not difficult. Just write.
I have what it takes to be a storyteller. That’s easy. Just tell stories.
I do not have what it takes to be a good story teller or writer. Not yet! There lies my trail of desire.
What people say about my desires are important me, if they were not, I wouldn’t share them, and I would be concerned about being a writer, storyteller, good writer, or good storyteller. I know most ideas are a matter of perspective, because expression of thought is told through perspective. I keep that concept in mind whenever my deeds, accomplishments, and failings are judged. I accept that and I accept that I do not have what takes. Not Yet. But I do KNOW that I can acquire what it takes. Maybe, I will never be seen as a great writer and that’s okay, but I KNOW I can be seen as a good storyteller and writer. The talent is there. I need to hone my unpracticed skill.
How do I know it there?
Back in high school, I received an A+ in honors English class during our 4 week Creative Writing course. I never received an A+ anywhere else. IN LIFE. He was so proud that he shared my work of perfection with other teachers. (Ooo- word of mouth). It was a good day, despite feeling embarrassed. My Honors English teacher was depicted as the toughest teacher in the school. I was on cloud 10 for a while or until Creative Writing was finished. We won’t talk about the other course work in Honors English class. *smile*
I love your comment, Brian. And I love that you see your potential . . . really, that’s everything. Three cheers for the teacher who gave you an A+. I’d say he was one of the gift-givers in your writing life!
Happy day to you.
:)
It never pays to rush!! Just Brilliant!!
In college I was told repeatedly that you can’t really learn how to write, you just have to “have it.” I tried to have it, and didn’t. I didn’t bother trying to learn, because of what they said. Years later, when I finally couldn’t stand it anymore, I had to see if I could learn to write, because that’s what I wanted to do most with my life. And I discovered they were full of hooey.
The biggest early influence in this regard was Lawrence Block’s fiction column in Writer’s Digest. I read it each month like it was a sacred text, highlighting things, trying things. I read his book Writing the Novel, and then wrote a novel…which of course didn’t sell, but taught me a lot about writing full-length fiction.
Now, when someone asks me if I think they have what it takes to be a writer, I usually respond with a Lawrence Block quote: “If you want to write fiction, the best thing you can do is take two aspirins, lie down in a dark room, and wait for the feeling to pass. If it persists, you probably ought to write a novel.”
Brilliant! I do love that response.
As for what you say about “they,” I wonder if perhaps we all should stop ourselves every time we find ourselves relying on or listening to the All Powerful They. Seems like no good can come of it. I’d say we can become equally stymied when They are saying we are wonderful, perfect, amazing.
Down with the They!
Thank you for your wise words, Mr. Bell!
Love the line, ‘On my best day, I’m 20 – 30% perverse’. That’s a keeper.
Sarah,
today being Wednesday, I’m certain that I have what it takes. Tomorrow, however, is Thursday…but I have learned over the last decade-plus of writing fiction that my opinion on the matter is irrelevant. As long as I can remember, I’ve been encouraged by various people to write. One in particular saw me thru the first 10 years of serious effort at fiction writing. Now, when my confidence blinks, I look to other writers (like you!) for relief. The brave who have faced rejection after rejection and kept going. Not because I think about not writing, but because I need to know that its not crazy to keep going.
It occurred to me while reading your post and these thoughtful comments is that if we’re engaged in the process, then we are writers. We already have what it takes, even if we don’t feel that way in a given moment. Thank you for talking about this!
Yes, Susan! Isn’t it so amazing how we can feel so positive about ourselves one day and so utterly despondent about our trajectory (or lack of trajectory) the next? Thank you for YOUR empathy and honesty. It is deeply comforting.
:)
Sarah, great post. Is it odd that I’ve never asked myself this very important question? I had the desire to tell stories, not just to my family and friends, but to strangers … and so it began. This love affair with the pen and paper and imagination. My whole life I’ve always jumped into everything headlong without counting the cost. I may be a fool, but a happy one.
I wonder how many people stop themselves from doing what they want by asking this question, because they will invariably come up short.
I think where it gets tricky is seeing the gap between where I am with my skills and where I want to be. I am more methodical now about studying the craft, but in the end, when a story bubbles to the surface, I have to dive in to get to the heart of it. Each new story teaches me something new, not just about myself, but this world.
Sarah, your post is amazing and I applaud your honesty. I think you’ve reflected what so many artists feel: doubt. For me, doubt is like a foyer in my “writing house” that I have to pass through in order to sit down and create my stories. A turning point came to me when a content editor told me to “Use your doubts as incentives to improve your writing skills and to rediscover the characters and story lines. Your point about desire is a good one. When we are driven to do something, we find the way to accomplish what it takes.
Oh, this is exactly what I needed to hear today! As a (mostly) unpublished writer, it’s easy to ask this question–far harder to know how to answer it. But I’ve wanted to do this since I was a child, so I suppose the only real answer is: keep going.
Thanks for the encouragement!
Hmmm, at what point did I realize I had what it takes? Not sure. I still falter. May I offer an answer to a different take at the question? I do know when I realized how special it would be to connect with another human through my work. It was at a meeting with my very first non-family-member beta-reader. What was to have been a discussion over breakfast turned to a six-hour deeply emotional and philosophical sharing over breakfast and lunch. Human connection, through story. It was extraordinary. I’ll never forget it.
I also have a secret weapon to keep me going. I have a fan. No, not just a family member or friend, or beta-reader who enjoyed my work. She’s an acquaintance. We started discussing our favorite fantasy authors at a New Year’s party several years ago. Next thing I knew, she was reading my work, via email. Not for feedback. I had zero expectations. A while after she received the first book, she wrote me to ask for the second. No hub-bub, just “send me the next,” and so on. She’s read all four books. Twice, actually. I saw her after she’d finished the trilogy the first time. She ran to me to excitedly exclaim: “I can’t wait for these books to come out so I can tell everyone I’ve already read them!”
She lives in our community, and I run into her a handful of times a year. On one occasion, I sat at a large dinner party and listened while she described my work to the rest of the guests. She made it sound better than I ever had before. Another extraordinary moment I’ll never forget.
My fan tends to pop up just about the time I’m ready to throw in the towel. I just saw her about two weeks ago, at a local restaurant. She always gives me a hug, introduces me to others as “her favorite author,” and asks me when she can buy hard copies of the books. Because of her, and her great big heart, I am reminded to keep going, to make them as special as my heart tells me they can be.
So maybe I do have what it takes: great people who believe in me.
Thanks for sharing, Sarah! Clearly you’ve got what it takes.
This is awesome, Vaughn.
Denise
Oh my gosh, YES! This is so great, Vaughn. What an immense gift to have a fan of this magnitude. Makes me smile just thinking of it.
She actually sounds like she is part-time Fan, part-time Guardian Angel. I can’t think of a person who’s more deserving of a Fan Angel.
Hug!
ROYYYYYYYYYCROFT!
That’s all I got to say about that.
Vaughn, can you rent your fan out for special needs cases?
Sarah, I have no doubt whatsoever you have what it takes. So, take it! (But leave enough behind for me.)
Hi Buddy! Imagine the money-making opportunities . . . a lot of us would pay top dollar for a few hours with Vaughn’s Fan. Maybe we should start a Fan Collective. I’m going to work on a proposal for that.
YOU have what it takes, Tom!
:)
Great post. Very encouraging. I’m going to save this and re-read it whenever I need motivation.
Sarah–
You are asking your readers to recount their “mirror moment” as writers. That’s James Scott Bell’s perfect term for the point at which a novel’s central character figuratively or literally looks at himself in a mirror. The character takes stock, examines his actions and motives. What he sees–or fails to see–will be decisive in determining the direction the rest of the novel takes.
As JSB has shown, this moment in a novel almost always occurs very close the midpoint. In life, the mirror moment can occur earlier or later, but as you have done, a writer who stops to reflect will almost certainly be able to identify that moment.
I have mine, but I’m going to decline your invitation to share it. I’m not a religious person, but some things are sacred to me, and my mirror moment is one of them.
I’m glad that’s not the case with you. You’ve done a great job of making your hard-won success live for WU readers. It rings true and is inspiring. Thank you.
Thanks, Barry, for the kind comment. Thanks also for mentioning how sacred this mirror moment really is. It is life-changing, in my opinion, and it’s a realization that propels us into something greater that what we once were.
I so appreciate your thoughtful comments!
“Do I have what it takes to be a writer?”
Who cares? Write for you. What other people think is irrelevant if you’re following your passion. You only live once. :)
Denise Willson
Author of A Keeper’s Truth and GOT
Sarah,
I saw that same article in P&W and have yet to meet a writer who hasn’t questioned his or her abilities in the context of talent.
I know a writer who was told by every English and journalism teacher she studied with that she had talent. I also know that this person has written some pretty bad work — in fact about 30,000 words of it before it was pointed out to her! So in the case of that half-written long fiction piece, the talent really didn’t matter so much… or at least not enough.
Though I am not an “accomplished” fiction writer who can look back on a formative era, I have come to the realization that while talent is a factor, it’s not the only one or maybe even the most important one. But I think that people pose the question of talent because they want to know if the years of effort that are ahead of them won’t be a waste of time.
Yet, how often do you hear people doing the same thing with sports? There are talented basketball, baseball, etc., players out there, but I think it’s a more accepted idea that what makes a good athlete is their willingness to practice their skills and to get out there and play the game, to just do it.
I was listening to “Let It Be” this morning, and for whatever reason, that P&W article popped into my head. And I wondered… was Paul McCartney sitting around Liverpool so many decades ago thinking to himself, “Am I a musician?” I’m thinking no. But even if he was, he obviously spent more time playing music than thinking about whether or not he was good enough to do so.
Great post, Sarah, and wonderful honesty!
I agree 100%, Tracy, that talent is obviously important, but it’s not THE most important factor (as Rufi Thorpe points out). Your comment reminded me of Malcolm Gladwell’s “10,000 hours” idea. That’s what it takes to excel in any arena.
If we spend 10,000 hours with tush-in-writing-chair, yes, we will get “chair butt,” but we will also develop those tenacity muscles that are so essential. Thanks for your thoughts!
Great post, Sarah! Thank you for your honesty, and your openness about your experiences. It’s hard to trust someone else with your work, whether that’s an editor or even readers. It feels like there’s a difference between being a writer and being an author, even if the dictionary doesn’t define it this way. You’re a writer as long as you keep on writing. You’re an author when you take the steps to share your work with others. They’re both difficult to do. Neither is inherently “better” or more worthwhile. But kudos to you for being both!
Thanks, Cathy. I figure sharing my adventures with rejection and mental health is fairly safe in this venue. I can’t be the *only* one, right?
Thanks also for the thoughts about “writer” versus “author.” A lot of published writers would probably say you need to be published in order to be an author, but let’s go with your definition. ;)
Wow, Sarah! What incredible timing.
I just received a very detailed editorial letter from a fellow editor who had agreed to consider my manuscript for publication. It was similar to the one above. Lots and lots of work. Never mind: an overhaul. I even got the synopsis wrong. It’s just not ready. Advice? Move on to the next project to gain some distance (I’d mentioned that in my informal query).
This didn’t crush me at all. In fact I’m delighted to receive such constructive editorial criticism. As emotionally attached as we can get to our stories, a writer can truly grow when he or she can step back and look at the process, rather than just the present.
I’ve been pondering whether or not I should move onto another book so I can utilize the many things I’ve learned these last 2 years but couldn’t apply to my manuscript. I’d held on because I was so certain I had to make this one just right. But now I have permission to move on.
It’s not a loss, because I think of the perspective I’ve gained on the project I set aside before writing my current manuscript. Amazing perspective, and I will go back to I some day. I’m creative, so I’ve found a creative way to set my new novel in the same fantasy world even though the plot and background is a complete surprise. Actually at the moment I am working through Brandon Sanderson’s Learn about Dragons lectures and he demands that we work on something fresh – so I have been developing this new story as though I’m taking the course.
How do I know I’ve got what it takes? I don’t, really. But I do have a desire to tell stories effectively, and I’m confident that desire will lead me in the right direction (it’s led me here to WU, which to me is the Promised Land!)
Ha, yes, John! WU is the Promise Land. And I’m so glad your lovely comment reminded me of something. I love that you are not crushed by the feedback you received. It takes great courage to send your work to someone who is supposed to point out its flaws. I love that you recognized the helpfulness of the critique.
The same happened in my case . . . this editor was dead right in every single thing he said. We can grow as writers when we listen to smart feedback (even when it’s so painful).
Thank you for your honesty!
Sarah, I thought about your question. I took a walk and thought about it. Do I have what it takes to write? I have concluded that I don’t have what it takes to stop.
When I was small my mom told me about Charlie Chaplin a man that made people laugh. He had a favorite song. About smiling even when your heart was breaking. I’ve changed the smile to write where appropriate for my life and it works for me.
Smile (WRITE) though your heart is aching
Smile (WRITE) even though it’s breaking
When there are clouds in the sky, you’ll get by
If you smile (WRITE) through your fear and sorrow
Smile (WRITE) and maybe tomorrow
You’ll see the sun come shining through for you
Light up your face with gladness
Hide every trace of sadness
Although a tear may be ever so near
That’s the time you must keep on trying (WRITING)
Smile (WRITE), what’s the use of crying?
You’ll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile (WRITE)
That’s the time you must keep on trying(WRITING)
Smile, what’s the use of crying?
You’ll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile (WRITE)
Songwriters: CHARLES CHAPLIN, JOHN TURNER, GEOFFREY PARSONS
Smile lyrics © BOURNE CO.
Your interpretation of Charlie Chaplin’s song made me teary-eyed.
That’s exactly what it is to sit down and write despite the doubts that creep in from time to time. Beautiful!
Beautiful, Bernadette. Thank you for sharing this! And yes, your realization that you do have what it takes simply because you can’t stop is true for me, too.
Such a great point . . . I have often rued the day that I started telling people that I was working on fiction. Now I HAVE to follow through. The alternative is just too embarrassing.
Thank you for this comment!
“Do I have what it takes?” is a question that recurs many times over the course of a writing life. At the beginning, it’s about talent, about dedication and the willingness to hear the truth. With experience, the question becomes a matter of perseverance in the face of rejection and the willingness to dig even deeper into craft and into yourself.
Success brings with it the same question. Do I have what it takes to repeat this achievement, to bring another story into the world with the same level of skill and honesty? Can I continue to deliver what my readers want, what my editor wants, on a regular basis? In this new world, the question has evolved: Do I have what it takes to engage with readers through social media, promote my work on a large scale? Do I have what it takes to publish my own books and garner the attention they deserve?
And the comes the stage where ideas take longer to generate and execute, where words must be coaxed or forced onto the page. And the question remains the same–do I still have what it takes to be a writer?
If you write, you are a writer.
What a wonderful post Sarah. You’re perseverance is admirable, as is your drive to sit in your writing chair regardless. I only have a few words on paper, so my hurdles and crises are still in front of me. But I’ll gladly sit with you down the road and tell you about the critics i overcome and the kind words that guide me.
It would be my pleasure, Brian. Just say “when” and I’ll find us two chairs. :)
Do I have what it takes to write? Sometimes I wonder, but then I sweep them away like the cobwebs in my house and recall the many times I’ve received positive comments on my work. I do know that I thought I was much better than I was when I started. But perhaps we all need that bit of ego to get us going. If we knew at the time, how much work it took, and how much agony was associated with it, we wouldn’t have picked up our pens or tapped the keyboard. Great post, and thanks for the discussion.
Man, Diana, your words are SO true. I have said that many times: that had I known how hard this would be . . .
But I find that deep down, even knowing how hard it is, I know I’d happily do it again. I think it’s just how we’re wired. Bad things would happen to our souls and our sanity if we didn’t write.
Thank you!
It must have been when my wife said, “Well…this one doesn’t entirely suck.” I think, though, it came to me early this year. Up until that time I’d been playing around the edges (since 1997). I guess, if you never really commit to it, you don’t worry about whether or not you’ve really got what it takes. But somewhere along the line, I decided to behave like an adult person, set myself a “production” schedule, and treat this like a real career. No I write 1200-1500 words per day, edit the previoius manuscript, research and plot for the next one, and make no excuses. I know that doesn’t really count as the point where I knew I have what it takes. It’s just that I decided I would get there, no matter what. Confidence is nice, but a whole lot of obsessive behavior is even better.
Hi, Ron. Your last line made me laugh out loud . . . it’s so true. Obsessive behavior often gets a bad rep, at least in the world of mental health. But for the world of writers, it’s a gift: that single-minded, laser focus will be impossible for others to understand. Obsessive behavior, however, is the very thing that keeps us velcro’d to our works in progress.
Brilliant comments. :)
Just a quick note to let the WU community know how grateful I am to be in your wise and witty midst. You are all such great inspirations to me.
Thanks, Therese and Kathleen. You have built the best community ever!
Hi Sarah,
I love your post! It really makes me think.
Do I have what it takes? In one sense, I know that I do – I feel that, while my writing needs a lot of help in the draft, I have the ability to churn out good stories. I’ve been published, I’ve had people like my stories…although, admittedly I only have one tiny thing published in fiction, which is what I like writing more.
When I start comparing myself to other writers though, then I’m not sure if I have what it takes. When I compare my tiny 1 fiction publication credit to others writers’ multiple credits…when I see the brilliant fiction out there sometimes, especially in the genres I like to write and read…then, my stomach sort of drops, my heart flutters, and I wonder…will I ever really make it? How can I, when other people are on the publication boat already and are sailing high? What if I just stumble and fall while I try to walk up the gang plank?
But I keep going, even when people say I’m crazy for writing, even when *I* say I’m crazy for choosing such a difficult field. (What with the struggle to be noticed in the beginning, the marketing and social media skills now required, the many drafts and revisions until a polished piece is made).
Regardless of all that…I just can’t stop writing, even if I tried. So perhaps I do have what it takes.
Sarah-
Do you have what it takes to get a degree in, oh, psychology?
Do you have what it takes to buy one house and sell another at the same time?
Do you have what it takes to face your tearful spouse of twenty-two years and give him or her a silent hug, when what you really want to do is scream at them “grow up” or “what will it take for you to get therapy?”
Do you have what it takes to get really, really good at being a lawyer, baking pie crust or jumping a horse over a six-foot fence?
Do you have what it takes to quit smoking?
Do you have what it takes to look at your aging face in the mirror and say to yourself, “Hey, nice wrinkles, you earned those”?
In other words do you have the courage to live life, face hardships, learn, grow, persist and be okay with being imperfect?
I suspect that you do.
If so, then you have what it takes to be a writer.
Donald, I especially like “Do you have what it takes to look at your aging face in the mirror and say to yourself, “Hey, nice wrinkles, you earned those”?” Getting up there in age, I appreciate mine, and the fact that I still have tons of energy to work on all my writing projects.
By the way, your name came up in my writing critique group last night. There may be two of our members that will be attending your Master Class at SIWC. I won’t be going but I remember well the wonderful one you conducted a number of years ago, plus your closing speech regarding genre-bending in the 21st century, etc. etc. two years ago. I was just referring to your book that came out that year. Good luck with it all. It’s such a fabulous conference, and you sir, are a fabulous teacher.
Thanks, Diana.
What a lovely post, thank you for sharing your story!
I sometimes think being the spouse and/or close friend of an author makes delivering encouragement and pep talks almost a part-time job.
I’m so glad you found people who told you what you needed to hear, when you needed to hear it.
Thank you for this thought provoking article, Sarah. Your questions prompted me to write and before I knew it I had written not a comment but a blog post. And thank you for that. : )
Terrific post, Sarah. As usual, I revel in your honesty and humor. It was a boost to my morning.
I laughed at Don’s comment about having the courage to be imperfect. That’s huge for me. I had a life shift some years ago when I turned to fiction and learning the cello. My previous life of expertise evaporated and I was a beginner again, tolerating a painful amount of imperfection and tortured feline sounds from the cello. It’s worth it, but some days I wondered what was wrong with being good at what I did?
My moment of confirmation came from my spouse. I was being cranky and he told me to go write it out, that I was in a lousy mood on days I didn’t write. I apologized and sat down at my desk with enthusiasm, imagining a neon “Writer” sign flashing over my head.
Two other things make me feel like a writer on her way to becoming an author: (1) the surprising gift of an exceptional critique partner of longstanding who is committed to honing skills and whose work has blossomed in the time we’ve exchanged drafts, and (2) asking for adult help. Early on, the “help” I wanted was to be told I was brilliant. That encouragement kept me writing, but it was a lie. Now I want the truth, even when it feels like dozens of paper cuts on my fingers. My writing isn’t that strong yet, but I want more than anything to make it better.
Maybe it isn’t so much whether I have what it takes, but whether I could let go before I find out what I am capable of creating.
What a lovely comment. And now, when I receive rejection or harsh feedback, I will consider your paper cuts analogy.
Anyone can survive a paper cut. Pshaw! A paper cut? Yeah, they sting and are surprisingly painful for how unimpressive they appear, but they only hurt for a day or two!
Thank you, Kate! Good for you for being a life-long learner. My kids took up violin and viola three years ago, and while I have sat with them in every lesson and for countless hours of practice, my old brain struggles to play Twinkle Twinkle.
Sarah,
I always look forward to your posts . . . they come laden with wit and wisdom (which for you are marvelously the same thing. How do you do that?)
Having what it takes to be a writer–the unstoppable will to do it; you definitely have it. I look forward to your stories making their public entrance.
I have it, because I won’t not have it. At age thirteen, I put down C.S. Lewis’s Screwtape Letters and I knew I had found the tribe I wanted to live with, just that somehow my birth canal had a glitch in it and had dropped me into an alien land and family. After twenty years of songwriting, my first novel The Trouble with Wisdom poured in unbidden, hurricane Katrina style. So glad to find family, tribe and a seat at the WU table.
Yes, it really is about finding the right tribe. We don’t need our tribe blowing smoke up our tushes; we need a tribe to propel us forward, a group of people that knows what this crazy gig feels like.
So great about your novel! I haven’t read The Screwtape Letters, but my pastor speaks of it so often that I know I should.
Happy writing!
All I know is that galumphing is a major part of the formula. That’s the only part I really know for sure. Because every time I sit down to write a new story, I forget everything I ever learned because each one turns me inside-out in a different way.
I was just lamenting with a friend, “why do we do this to ourselves?” And I think it’s because I am a junkie of sorts. I flail around and try to make sense of things on a daily basis. To no avail. From little things like getting flipped off while I’m driving (and didn’t do anything wrong!) to the big things like racial intolerance or beheadings. But when I write? I get to make sense of things. For reals.
I’m not sure I’ll ever feel like a “real” writer. But maybe that’s a good thing. Because there’s always something new to learn.
When I decided to discover if I had what it takes to be a writer (i.e. if I could do it; “it” in my case being a thriller novel), I started writing and found out.
“Was there a point you realized you had what it took?”
Nope– never. I just keep pulling myself forward, inch-by-inch, out of pure, dumb stubbornness….
I loved this comment, Douglas, because it is true! There is a healthy amount of stubbornness needed in this gig. Stubbornness + courage + tenacity.
Thank you for that reminder!
In my house, I have to fight to claim my “Writer” status at least once a week. My husband, my greatest blessing, 99% loving and supportive, is also my biggest obstacle. Writing takes me away, both mentally and physically. He’s not one to sit back and be quiet when I slip away. Having to defend my desire to write makes me aware of just what I will do to hold onto this long-desired dream.
I’m getting there slowly, and it’s not all perfect, but yes, I have what it takes.
I am a writer.
Good content Sarah.
My moment of inspiration came while sitting at the desk in my office at the most boring IT job in the world, where I spent most days staring out the window watching the network not break. On an October day in 2006 a sudden grinding and a whoosh of air behind made me turn to notice a blue wooden telephone booth blocking my door. It had most certainly had not been there earlier, because, well…I couldn’t have gotten in if it had, it was blocking my door.
An Englishman with a long scarf and curly hair stepped out, a surprised look on his face, and said, “Basil! Nice to finally meet you! I love your books! Quite exciting all that military dash and bravery stuff, very well done!”
Then he noticed my calendar and added, “Or at least it will be.”
He stepped back into his blue box and vanished.
I turned back to my window, looked at my PC, put hands to keyboard and said, “Well then, best get started.”
Eight books later I’ve hired a team of Leprechauns to help out with the day to day stuff. Fillii, Gnillii, Boffin, and Berthold (they’re brothers. Berthold also speaks Mandarin…no one knows why.) It’s nice because they’re good company and I pay them in beer and nuts.
Fillii: And free cable…don’t forget the free cable.
Yes, and free cable.
Anyway, that’s my story.
You know what’s odd? I have always been terrified that I don’t have what it takes, but I have been positive that one friend of mine definitely does not have what it takes. I’ve seen her writing, and it ain’t there, and won’t get there. Unfortunately, she thinks she has it. She begged me to show her my stuff, begged and begged, so I did. She handed it back and told me it, essentially, that it stinks. I know it doesn’t stink. It isn’t there yet, but it doesn’t stink. It odorless at this point, not yet deliciously scented and spiced.
I knew I had what it took a very, very long time ago, when I realised I couldn’t not write stories.
However, it was only in the past five years that I realised I had to take what was needed and Get Serious. I had to change my mindset from writing as a hobby and vague dream to writing as a job and career and put in the chops.
I have learned that this is what it takes to be a writer:
1. The desire.
2. The persistence.
3. The willingness to change and grow.
There is no end to our writerly journeys. Even when we become masters of our craft, with household names and hundreds of books in our backlist, we still have room to change and grow.
I believe I’ve figured it out. Now all I need is the Time. Don’t have nearly enough of that to satisfy my desire or persistence. Alas.
Wow, Sarah. I love what you have written here.
I have no idea if I have what it takes, but I had one book published, not quite sure how? and am writing my second. What I do know is that I have to write and I am learning as much as I can, as fast as I can!
I listened to my editor most of the time, who was a wonderful woman who had worked alot with oral stories of Aboriginal people and was perfect for me. I was lucky.
I used to joke that my basic insecurity was my highest credential as a writer. LOL We all struggle with belief in ourselves and our abilities. One of my turning points was when I was auditing a graduate writing class and the professor encouraged me to keep writing, despite the flaws in my craft at that point.
When I start out with my writing it reminds me of what I wrote at 12 years old. Reading that always makes me doubt myself. Then I go through the “rough draft”, editing, changing, and adding. It looks better a second time around, but I normally do another go-through before sending it to Cindy, who does my editing. I still don’t have faith in my writing at this point. Cindy does. She believes in me and told me I have what it takes. That gives me some faith, but it tends to waiver because I’m working on the next book and doubting myself all over again.