Asking Myself Why I Write… Again
By Vaughn Roycroft | June 18, 2018 |
I’m certain all of us have asked the question. Why am I doing this?
Some more often than others, I’m sure. As in, “Why am I putting myself through this?” Particularly when stuck, or while collecting noes during submissions. Or after a daunting critique. I mean, there have got to be easier gigs than this one, am I right?
But I don’t mean as a passing thought. I’m talking about taking a good hard look at the subject. Really examining why you’re spending so many of your finite hours on earth in this pursuit. I’ve often heard the succinct answer, “Because I have to,” or, “Because I can’t imagine not doing it.” Those are good ones. I accept them as valid.
I’m also sure a few lucky souls out there will answer, “Because writing is my retreat/respite; my joy/solace; my healing/me-time. I consider it a reward not a labor.” (I’m looking at you, Benjamin Brinks.)
But beyond that urge or longing, beyond the respite/solace gained, what do we really hope to achieve? Because, after all, even if we feel we “have to write,” or find reward in it, many of us could satisfy ourselves in an hour or so a day, or with a few longer sessions a week, and without the intent of having it read or reacted to in any way.
I’m sure that every WU reader appreciates the time, dedication, and passion necessary to acquiring and maintaining the sort of writing competence that’s worthy of being consistently read.
If you’re serious about gaining and keeping it, you’re giving a lot of yourself. A LOT. Certainly enough to warrant the question.
A Question That Sprawls
As I suggest in the title, this isn’t the first time I’ve asked myself why I write. It usually happens between manuscripts, as I am now. I find that it’s worth reexamining because the answers inevitably change. In my case, it’s more of a refinement than an overhaul, but my reasons have indeed changed.
At the core of it, I have to accept that my goal is larger than simply to tell a story (relatively speaking, that’s the easy part). I’m seeking to express stories in the best way possible; to construct and present them so that they are as meaningful, memorable, and moving as can be.
But that elaboration of the goal begs the supplemental question: well-expressed and meaningful to whom? For me it’s a reminder that, yes indeed, I’m doing this to be read. Which naturally leads me to ask what sort of readership that entails. I have been read, after all. By… um, dozens of… well, mostly friends and family. So then, how many readers are enough? If I need more, why? To what end do I seek them?
See how this question tends to sprawl?
The Usual Suspects
I suppose we writers can take the usual reasons for seeking an audience for granted. For many writers, one of the primary motivations is financial—to make a living derived from doing what we love. I’m no exception. I love that idea. But I’ve grown realistic enough to recognize that financial motivation isn’t enough. I’m pretty sure that switching even half of the hours I spend writing to being a Home Depot greeter, and then spending half of my earnings from it on lotto tickets, would not only yield a better bottom line, but offer better odds on hitting it big. So let’s set that one off to the side.
Another of the usual suspects is to gain recognition, or even fame. While I am definitely not a writer who daydreams of being on Ellen, or even interviewed on NPR, I will admit that it would be nice to have a respectable publishing track-record. If only because of how exhausting it gets explaining to the 135th dinner-party acquaintance how I’m “still plugging away,” and that I’ll be sure to announce it when there’s an actual book. But that’s still nowhere near a big enough motivator to answer the original question. I could simply start telling social acquaintances that I’m holding out for that Home Depot greeter slot, and leave it at that.
Then of course there’s earning validation—being told I’m good enough to make the big leagues by those who not only know the literary marketplace, but who’ve dedicated themselves to elevating it. For me this one’s always held a level of appeal. But as I said, my answers as to why I write tend to evolve. Five or six years ago, I would’ve put earning validation near the top of my list. Although it hasn’t entirely disappeared, my longing for validation has evolved. I’ve received just enough of it—from people I greatly admire—to reveal its true nature to me. It’s not so much that validation is fleeting, but that the longing is unquenchable. Hence, its power over me is diminished.
Another Reason—A Big One
By now some of you are squirming in your chairs, wondering when I’m going to get to one of your biggest motivations for seeking an audience. You want to reach them! Duh, right? You’re seeking human connection. You want your words to mean something to someone. You want to offer new perspective, to prod deeper examination, to leave them thinking. You want to move them.
We’re a social species, after all. Wanting to share, in such a personal way, lies at the core of our humanity.
I recently had an experience that was a part of the impetus for revisiting the question of why I write. A writer friend, met through WU, recently became a beta-reader. My friend not only enjoyed the work, she related to it. She found my characters’ circumstances applicable to her own life. She expressed to me how she was moved, and the myriad ways in which she was left thinking. Not to mention the bonus that her insights have already improved the work.
The experience is a special gift. I’m honored and very grateful.
And yet, as the experience relates to my question, it begs another. How many of such experiences is enough? What if this has all been for those who’ve already read my work and were moved by it, or found new perspective? Would that alone be enough for me to go on, to continue to pour so much of myself—my time, effort, and passion—into making this manuscript the best it can be? And to start on the next one and do it all again?
One Last Person To Consider
Maybe you are doing it all for the readers—no matter how many (or few) there are, or will be. It’s an altruistic goal. But maybe, just maybe, that overlooks the one person who is certain to be the most effected by our individual quests. That person is us—the writer.
“Life has no meaning. Each of us has meaning and we bring it to life. It is a waste to be asking the question when you are the answer.”—Joseph Campbell
I’ve been watching the old PBS series, The Power of Myth, on Netflix, in which Bill Moyers interviews Joseph Campbell just a few years before his passing (shout-out to WUer Susan Setteducato for the recommendation). I was familiar with The Hero’s Journey, but I’m finding the series captivating. It provides much that is applicable to our craft, but having come to it with this essay’s original question in mind, I’m gaining so much more.
Campbell asserts that myths offer clues in the ultimate journey each of us must make. Each of us has in some way heard the call to this undertaking. If we are to succeed on the page, each of us must descend into the darkness of uncertainty, overcome our fear, eschew the Ego, recognize the vastness of the subconscious, and come to accept some form of personal spirituality. For Campbell, the journey—the result of any story, even our own—is about the transformation of consciousness.
My True Calling?
In asking myself why I write, I must recognize that I am also asking: Is there something else I should be doing instead? Is there something else more worthy of my time, effort, and passion? From a Campbellian perspective, the answer is an unqualified no. I cannot deny that this is my calling. I have to recognize how far I’ve already come. I can’t deny that, as a result of my writing journey, my consciousness has already embarked upon its transformation.
Moyers: “We’re not going on an adventure to save the world, but rather one to save ourselves.”
Campbell: “And in recognizing it, we save the world!” (From The Power of Myth, Ep.1)
It can feel selfish, spending so much of ourselves in the pursuit of art. It can seem pretentious to believe that our words can make a difference.
But I’m thinking those things are beside the point. After all, they’re based in fear. It’s the Ego talking. In Campbell’s perspective, staying true to ourselves is our duty. Only through transforming our consciousness can we become vital to the world.
And a vital person vitalizes.
Campbell called the notion of changing the world by seeking to change its rules misguided. We instead bring the world to life by finding our true selves and being truly alive. And by staying true to ourselves, we inspire and enlist our fellow humans to their own quest.
Maybe, just maybe, an instance or two of this has already happened for me. And who knows? Maybe it can happen again. And again. Only by staying true to my calling will I ever find out. And, for me, that’s reason enough. It’s why I’ll continue to do what I do.
How about you? Have you asked yourself why you write? How often do you reexamine the question? How big of an audience is big enough for you? Or do you even need one? Do you believe this is your calling?
[Image is: Ancient Emerald Forest Trail, by Nicholas Raymond on Flickr]
Vaughn Roycroft’s (he/him) teacher gave him a copy of The Hobbit in the 6th grade, sparking a lifelong passion for reading and history. After college, life intervened, and Vaughn spent twenty years building a successful business. During those years, he and his wife built a getaway cottage near their favorite shoreline, in a fashion that would make the elves of Rivendell proud. After many milestone achievements, and with the mantra ‘life’s too short,’ they left their hectic lives in the business world, moved to their little cottage, and Vaughn finally returned to writing. Now he spends his days striving to finish his epic fantasy series.
“It’s not so much that validation is fleeting, but that the longing is unquenchable.”
You could totally make a BrainyQuote out of this, with one of your stunning sunset-over-the-lake photos as background!
I got into the music business to be “heard”, to be “seen”. Singing on a stage became my default setting to existing. No crowd was ever big enough, their reaction never strong enough. I was so consumed with earning validation that I lost sight of what had gotten me started in the first place: opening my heart so people would open theirs, too. My voice, my songs, weren’t what they wanted to hear. Higher, louder, sexier, they demanded. It didn’t work out.
Writing is a lot less show-y. But it can be just as treacherous. They’ll not only criticize your words but your voice, too. The rhythm, the tone. Did it give them all the feels? I remember discussing writing a novel with my musician Significant Other, telling him it’s like recording an album. Only it’s a lot bigger, takes a lot longer and is much lonelier.
I write because I’m starting to realize that as unique and often times lonely as we may feel, we all live similar human experiences. I write to trigger that “me too” response, that “this was written for ME” reaction. I write to give my perspective. It’s probably not that different or new, but it’s fairly unsung so maybe it’ll even change someone else’s perspective.
Thanks, Vaughn, you got me digging deep this morning, rekindling with my heartfelt motivation to write. I hope that PBS series is also available on Canadian Netflix, sounds fascinating!
Another of your BrainyQuotes-worthy gem: “We (…) bring the world to life by finding our true selves and being truly alive. And by staying true to ourselves, we inspire and enlist our fellow humans to their own quest.”
Top of my list, from now on.
What a wonderful addition to the conversation, Véronic. I’ve often wondered about this question as it relates to artists in other mediums – particularly music. There’s a bit more immediacy to the validation thing with music, isn’t there? I can imagine what a pitfall it could become. I also think about our (music fans’) insatiable hunger for novelty, and its effect on the artist.
I’m guilty. I shop for new music every Friday. And yet, I have thousands of songs that are meaningful to me, that have moved me, that have left me thinking. And they’re worth revisiting, because – as with the question of why we create – the effect of the songs and lyrics often evolves. (As an aside, thanks for getting me to take a new look at Alanis Morissette – it’s been revealing.)
I’m very glad the essay got you digging, and I hope you can find the Campbell interviews (quite a bit of it is available on YouTube, but I recommend looking for full episodes). And lastly, thanks so much for your kind praise. It means a lot (see? always seeking that damn validation – it’s never enough… ;)
Funny how those of us here are most alive when creating imaginary worlds.
Funny how readers respond to what’s not real as if it is more real than reality.
Funny how what makes nations, builds followings, raises up human values and defines every human’s sense of self are stories.
Dentists all repair teeth in pretty much the same way. Carpet installers all do the same thing. Each novelist, though, is unique. Fiction works best when it’s unlike any other fiction.
Why do this? We need it. The world needs it. And only each one of us can tell the one story that has an impact.
Plus, it’s fun. So hey, what are we going to do instead? Watch TV? Please.
Funny how I *knew* you were going to have a wise summary, one that just about makes the entire essay obsolete. ;)
The astute enhancement of the conversation, though, is that we’re striving for uniqueness, in spite of our all having heard the same call. I agree that the world needs it. Now more than ever.
Thanks, Benjamin. You’re one of those vital people. You vitalize us here, and always make an impact.
Well, *sometimes* it’s fun…..
One of the primary reasons we write is to be read. What we need to remember is that most of our readers will be anonymous. They will never write a review, never drop a note to us – encouraging or damning. They’re too busy, too uncertain of how to go about the writing or the technology. But they may tell a friend about this great book they read. They may have been touched or inspired. You may have brought a smile into their day that was a bit of light in a murky week. You know this has to be true – because of the bits of validation you’ve received from your friends.
Hi Dana – Thanks for the excellent reminders. I know quite a few avid readers for whom it would never occur to write a review. I appreciate the addition to the conversation.
So much to consider. Story telling lives in me. As a young mother I was writing stories in my head while doing the dishes, taking notes in the car on vacations–what I saw always stimulated a story or if not that, an image that could become a story. It’s still happening on my morning walk, reading the newspaper, in conversations. I have asked myself if sitting here is selfish. But throughout my life I have challenged myself in other ways as a teacher and then as an RN. My family thrives. I research my husband’s chronic illness. He thrives. As Benjamin says, TV is not the answer. I do love reading and that’s a stimulus, but I have to write, to seek out connections in experiences, images–oh and the simple delicious part of finding that WORD. Hope you all have a good writing day.
Hi Beth – If Campbell is right (and about this I think he is) that it’s all about transforming our consciousness, and finding our way to our own vitality and personal spirituality, then you’re well on your way. I can’t help notice how many of your choices are all about helping others (and I see your compassion in your social media, as well). You are so far from selfish.
Keep thriving. You’re inspiring the rest of us. Thanks much for enhancing the conversation.
Thanks so much, Vaughn, so kind of you. I am on fire sometimes, but don’t get enough writing done when I am! It’s good to focus on the creative process and you help me with that.
Vaughn, I’m so glad you got immersed in Campbell’s powerful message. In our culture, we’re encouraged to stuff our calling and get a good job. Well, hey, it makes sense, especially if you have kids and bills and…you know. But this calling to tell a specific story is powerful, and for us, very hard to ignore, like the siren-song from across the water. And yes, its daunting. Time stops, then speeds up, and the learning curve can seem endless (maybe it is??). The quotes you chose reminded me that in order to send our characters on the hero’s journey, we’re required to make our own. No small thing. And in today’s crazy world, if we can offer a different vision to one reader, that is no small thing. Thanks for a provocative post, and godspeed on your continuing sojourn!
Hi Susan – I get it, too. I’ve occasionally wondered how my dad would’ve felt about all of this. He worked a steady job. He had bills to pay, and I honest-to-God believe he never once paid one late (in fact, he paid the mortgage off on the house I grew up in early, against the advice of his accountant). But I think he did follow his bliss. As a WW2 vet, for him, having a family, and a stable environment, was it.
There can be no doubt that what he’d experienced in life had transformed his consciousness. He was building his own Nirvana. Which makes me a grateful recipient. Only through doing so do I have the luxury of ruminating on such questions as I pose today.
Thanks again for the tip on The Power of Myth. And for your reliable insight and steady support. Can’t wait to read your work!
You reminded me of my Dad (timely!) who truly did love his work as an engineer and put four of us! (OMG!!) thru college. Bliss comes in many forms, yes?
I write because I like to read the story I’m writing– good stories are hard to find, and I like mine — and more, because reading my own story is interactive. I rarely read an old passage without making some small change in it. I imagine painters can be like that too: always picking up the brush to do just a little more to a favorite work, adding a little shadow here, or removing a distracting detail there. Lucky me, I have a good day job, so I don’t yet have to worry about whether it’s time to say “Done!”
And I write because I like to create new things, which is why I write speculative fiction. That was a big part of my previous career: I’m an inventor of a few score US Patents. I get to imagine new tech, how it works, how it will be used, what problems it will cause. And I get to imagine ways to neutralize that tech for story-telling purposes: e.g., how does a character get lost or become unable to call for help if phones never run out of battery, never break down, never are outside coverage, and are installed on the inner surface of their skull? I bet some of you are having fun trying to answer that question right now. :)
It’s true, that we’ve got to write what we would love to read. I’ve always felt the same way – that I’m creating the stories that I longed for that didn’t exist. Good point!
Also very cool that you’re an inventor. Great to have multiple outlets that all contribute to our vitality. Thanks for sharing!
Oh, Vaughn, you have stripped many layers to write this, and I feel for you, WITH you.
“But I’ve grown realistic enough to recognize that financial motivation isn’t enough. I’m pretty sure that switching even half of the hours I spend writing to being a Home Depot greeter, and then spending half of my earnings from it on lotto tickets, would not only yield a better bottom line, but offer better odds on hitting it big.”
While this statement makes me very sad, sad because we live in a time where artists are not appreciated as they used to be or should be, there is truth in it. We have become a society focused on money, power. We have lost the ability to recognize the value of life is within, with the choices we make, with the lives we live. Crazy, isn’t it?
Thanks for sharing this, Vaughn.
Hugs
Dee
Hi Dee – Well, it’s not every day you get lauded for stripping, so I’ll count today as one to remember. ;)
Yeah, it’s crazy-weird but telling, isn’t it – the value our society puts on artistic endeavor? And I think it’s a big part of the problems we find ourselves facing as a society. So few of us are even pursuing our higher callings and our transformed and vital selves. As some who have totally missed out on this critical point might end a missive: Sad!
I’m so glad the post resonates for you, my friend. Thanks for weighing in, and best of luck in your venture. It’s a great idea, linking it to following your bliss!
Do you think writers and artists were ever compensated properly, Dee? I’m not sure they ever have been.
I don’t know, Barb. I guess that thought is linked to the way we perceive famous artists of the past. But they are just that – famous – and there were probably a ton of artists in which time forgot easily.
If we go back even further in time, I do believe artists and storytellers were respected. Within tribal communities, storytellers were revered. I once read about an Egyptian pharaoh who gave riches to artists who could make his wife and home beautiful.
I think society today has lost focus on our purpose as human beings. And art is part of that.
Vaughn, you must have a channel into my brain because I asked myself that same question as I contemplated further revisions to my WIP. I tallied up the hours I have already spent on it and wondered why I am doing it and would the time be better spent taking piano lessons again, For me writing is the best way I know of to make sense of the world, at least the world as I see it. Your essay raises important points about why we write. It is a question all writers need to contemplate from time to time. Thanks for a thoughtful essay and enjoy your break from writing,
Hey Chris – Speaking of channeling, what’s for lunch? I’m sensing that you’ve got some good ideas, and that we’re both hungry.
“For me writing is the best way I know of to make sense of the world, at least the world as I see it.”
You raise a fantastic point! It’s how we process, isn’t it? It’s undoubtedly part of the reason we’ve been selected for the call.
Thanks for the excellent addition to the conversation, my friend. And Bon Appetit!
This is getting spooky. I was just about to take a bite of my sandwich when I read your reply. Turkey breast and cheese. Bon appetit, indeed!
Thank you, Vaughn, for helping to guide me that step further toward my purpose in writing. Yes, I write because I love it. I also love sharing what I have written with others. I love learning the skills I need to share my vision with others, to give them what my favourite writers have given me—a journey through a new reality. A fictional reality, to be sure, but one that has been fashioned to illuminate the tangible world.
Writing itself is like a vision quest. I walk with my senses alert, and the world leads me toward I’m not sure what. News stories illuminate ideas I’ve been playing with. I come across a book on a people from a far away land and time and discover the qualities my characters share. I see an exhibition at a museum, discover musical rhythms that unexpectedly rock my body and understanding. Listening to a sonata, I see that its structure is precisely what a certain scene needs to convey the same emotions that the music uses to shake my soul like a dog shakes a rag.
I am not the only writer of my fiction. I am just a collaborator and dogsbody for it. And that is my purpose. That makes my life more intense and wonderful than anything else can.
Very cool comment, Sarah! Isn’t it great, and so fulfilling, putting the pieces together from what we collect – from the things that move us. You’ve clearly heard the call, and I’m delighted that you’re answering with your whole heart and soul.
Thanks for the excellent enhancement to the conversation. I’m inspired!
Writing a book is so much like being on a hero or heroine journey. This morning I again questioned my husband whether all this time and effort is worth it. His answer: if you like it, keep on going. I’m in the final throes of editing and starting the dreaded read-aloud edit today. With a short attention span, I am bored to death with my story.
My goals are modest – to tell a fun, weird, and unique story purely for entertainment. I often scan the best seller list and new book updates in fear another book appears like mine. I trudge along to complete edits on this one because ideas for the next fun book journey are piling up. Like having a pre-booked airline ticket for somewhere you’ve always wanted to go!
P.S. When the call to adventure stops coming through, I won’t be a greeter at Home Depot but maybe the library. Please don’t stop Vaughn – keep telling your stories!
Hi Karen – Ha! I’m with you on feeling the pressure from the ideas for future projects.
Glad we both have supportive spouses. And, oh! – the library! What a great idea. Thanks so much for weighing in. Onward!
This question is just too darn easy, Vaughn.
I write for the colossal income and the awesome health insurance that come with the profession. Not to mention the privilege of paying self-employment taxes, which I’m sure my amazing government is putting to the best possible use imaginable. Oh, and then there’s all the hot groupies that writers meet backstage (as soon as I can figure out where backstage actually is).
All in all, I’m living the dream!
Oh, yeah. The groupies and lavish lifestyle. Me, too.
You’re kidding, Keith. No one’s ever given you the keycard for the writer-star blue-room? I was counting on you getting me in one of these days. I hear they sort out all of the verdant ones from the huge bowl of M&Ms.
Keep livin’ the dream! You’re my inspiration. :)
Vaughn, because my socks are always damp with a bit of gloom, I am forever asking that question, with yes, the same evolution of answers, feints, bold declarations and whimpering withdrawals. All of those itches you mention—the elusive dough, recognition, validation, dry socks—have been mine, and I have the panoply of unfulfilled scratching to show for it.
But yes, wanting to share, to connect has a bright glow. For me, that’s because so much of my reading has touched me. Right now I’m reading “This Is How It Begins” by Joan Dempsey and “Run” by Ann Patchett, and both stories have moved from that place in the narrative where you are understanding the ground you walk on—and then that same ground moving upends you. Both books have me at “My god, what’s going to happen?” That’s what I want to do for readers, no matter if it’s touching them with drama, loss, humor or pondering. (Or with sentences that goose you, no matter the syntax.)
Thanks for another fine, thoughtful post. By the way, you would make an excellent Home Depot greeter, because I would think you could spice it up with offering each entrant a two-sentence epic story. Perhaps just try it one day a week?
I find this comment so uplifting, I feel like I owe you a Smartwool gift card.
I’m with you, Tom – it’s such a driving force when you find yourself so deeply immersed in story, you just want to offer it to readers yourself. Sort of like wanting to deal as well as using, I suppose. Thanks for the two recommendations. I’m currently looking for a fix.
Thanks too for offering the clever way to spice up my next side-gig. I’m still likely to need it.
Great post here today and the comments are stimulating. This is simple for me. There are no lofty ambitions in it for me. I write because stories emerge; characters start talking; scenes pop up; and the mysteriousness of it all is irresistible. I have to find out what the story is and who is this character exploring a new world for me?
Ah yes, how appropriate, Paula – the lure of the mystery. I am so often filled with wonder over this astounding emergence you describe. You’re right to call it irresistible. That’s a really compelling addition to the conversation. Thanks much for adding it!
A wonderful, thoughtful post, Vaughn.
I am quite sure there could never be enough validation or readership enough for me to feel full. There’s a certain something in every writer that drives us to more, more, more. Maybe not that attractive, but honest.
On the other hand, I have been writing so long that I can’t remember what drove me to it, only that I started framing experiences and ideas into story long before I even had the capacity to spell. I love the communication part of the process, the back and forth I get with readers, the very intimate connection of me-to-them. I love inspiring readers, and I love knowing that I created pleasure for them.
But I think writing is just the way I’m wired. I think in story. I process through story. I make peace in story. It’s always, always, always for me first. “This is what I’m trying to understand. Maybe you’ve thought about this, too, or carry a wound like this character.”
Thanks for giving us the chance to mull this over.
Hey Barbara – I hadn’t thought of it, but maybe that unfillable need in us is part of the writerly calling. Maybe not so attractive, but perhaps it’s fuel needed for the perseverance required…?
Ah, the back and forth with readers. It’s part of my longing. Even the conversation I refer to, with my writer friend, was just so delightful and fulfilling. She gleaned so much, saw so many sides to my characters. It’s like when you’re so used to looking in a regular mirror, and then you go to a store with a great full-length three-way mirror. Such an enhanced perspective she offered.
Yes! I absolutely love your description of the way you think. You’ve made me realize even more about myself than writing the post (which was pretty revealing). Great comment! Can’t thank you enough, for that and for sharing.
I’ve written this comment and deleted it twice. Since I’m at work, I really need to just comment and get on with the day! This post was just so thought provoking, though, I really wanted to comment. But, I got too wordy. So, I’m going to just go to the bare bones… I started writing because, after 10 dry years of not being artistic in any fashion, I wanted to create something. Writing allowed me to create in my home with my kids, and it was fun and it turned out people kind of liked my stories (ah, that validation! Excellent point that the longing is unquenchable.) Just recently I had to decided if I wanted to continue writing or not, because I’ve been not-editing my second novel for about four years. And – to be brief, I realized that my reason for wanting to write remains the same — I just really like being creative and if some other people like the story, then it’s all the better. That realization allowed me to figure out what was holding me back from finishing the second book and I started making good progress to getting the damn thing completed. Soon, I’ll be able to start another book!
Anyway, I recognized in your post some of my own thoughts and emotions. I appreciated the points about writing being a part of my own spiritual journey. And also it kind of set me free from some of the guilt I always seem to carry that I don’t have writing be my primary purpose in life, that I will go spend time with my kids instead of editing. That’s part of me, and it’s perfect to my writing. It’s a journey, not a destination. Thanks, Vaughn!
Oh, and I still was wordy!! :P
Hey Lara! So great to hear from you. :)
And, really? You’re worried about being too wordy with ME? We’ve known each other long enough for you to know that’s impossible, lol.
I believe we all need sort of fallow periods in our creativity. It’s not just to give our psyche the space it needs to create. Sometimes it’s needed just to show us the love, and the whys – to remind us of who we are at our core. If this post did nothing more than to provide that reminder to you, I’d be a happy man.
And that’s the thing about the spiritual side of the journey – a vital person vitalizes! I think your kids will attest to it. :) Thanks so much for enhancing the conversation, and for letting me know that it resonated. (I very much appreciate the triple attempt!) Onward!
Hi, Vaughn:
Touching post, sir. I have little to offer that others haven’t already provided, except this poem by Yeats. I wish I didn’t have to admit how often I refer to it for inspiration:
To A Friend Whose Work Has Come To Nothing
Now all the truth is out,
Be secret and take defeat
From any brazen throat,
For how can you compete,
Being honour bred, with one
Who, were it proved he lies,
Were neither shamed in his own
Nor in his neighbours’ eyes?
Bred to a harder thing
Than Triumph, turn away
And like a laughing string
Whereon mad fingers play
Amid a place of stone,
Be secret and exult,
Because of all things known
That is most difficult.
Hi David – Ah, the perfect addition. Which is so typical of you. I’ve told you before, but it bears repeating – this community is graced by your involvement and contribution. I’m proud to call you a friend. (Gosh, we’ve got to do something about our having never met in person.)
Thanks for this.
Hi Vaughn–thanks for the timely post. I’m struggling with being between projects right now, too, and the siren call of some stable income has really been weighing heavy on my thoughts of how to spend my time. So thanks for reminding me that there is more than money at stake in this question. Here are my three top reasons for writing:
* Because I’m a better person after I’ve written. Calmer, more focused, more aware of the here and now, and less concerned about the constant distracting demands the modern world makes for attention and coddling. Also according to family members, much less crabby.
* Because I am a quiet person. Quiet does not mean I have nothing to say–writing gives me the ability to ‘say’ it. Whether or not I’ll ever have listeners is outside of that need.
* Because the only way to get the stories and characters that hold my consciousness hostage out of my head is to put them on paper.
Hi Jeanne – I’m delighted that this is timely. And I love your three reasons. I think Steven Pressfield has a section (in one of his writing books) about the deep, inner peace that comes of having done the work, and how it sort of “tamed” his inner beast (which I imagine he would admit was coming from his Resistance to the call).
I’m so glad that you’re putting those stories and characters on paper. It’s a gift to the rest of us. Thanks for the great additions to the conversation!
On a more serious note than my initial reply, I think A) this is a VERY important question to ask yourself from time to time, and B) it’s okay if the answer keeps changing. It might change because you yourself are changing, or it might change because you move to different stages of your journey as a writer (e.g., unpublished, published, successful, not so much, etc.).
And it’s also okay to NOT have a good answer, and step away from writing – temporarily or permanently. Life is short. If this is how you want to spend it, great – but if not, that’s okay, too.
Bottom line, I think this is a great question, but one with no truly wrong answer, as long as you’re being honest with yourself.
You make an important point here, Keith. It *is* okay to not have a good answer. And I concur about the need to occasionally step away. Thanks for taking the time to make a vital addition. Here’s to honesty… Say, I’m honestly almost ready for a beer. Cheers!
I write to get published.
I admire the simplicity of the goal, David. But I really don’t envy it. Wishing you the best.
Cyril Connolly Quotes. Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self.
this has been niggling in my mind recently because of a reader who didn’t like some aspects of my stories, and stated she would not finish reading the series. (she was half way through the 3rd book of 4)
it seems that because i am a Christian it is assumed that i write Christian Fiction. but although my faith is very evident in my stories, so, too, are issues of life, some of which some people don’t want to think about. and, on the rare occurrence, there are certain (benign) “no-no” words.
all this to say, a part of me longs to write the pretty prose that appeals to so many….
and i’d have no self.
i discovered, somewhere in this recent series, that writing is my purpose. the more i write, the more secure my identity has become, and for me as a Christian, the deeper the connection in my faith, and the stronger my identity in Christ, the stronger and more confident i am as a person and as a writer – an UPward spiral, so to speak.
so, no, i will not abandon my writing as it is. i will continue to weave the stories of the dark side of humanity. i’ve fans who eagerly await my books.
i will *add to* my repertoire, lighter fiction – if my brain can simmer down to do it.
have i considered abandoning my writing? no. it’s too ingrained in me. have i wondered about using the pretty degree i have? (BFA in interior design) of course i have. could i juggle both? probably not.
i’m on this merry-go-round for keeps – even if the thing tosses me across the playground. i keep running back for more!
I LOVE that Connolly quote, Robin. It sounds to me like you’re staying true to yourself, which Campbell considers essential to transforming our consciousness.
I know it’s a faith that defines it, but Christian fiction is still a genre. And all genres have conventions and tropes – and no doubt many readers find some of them non-negotiable. I’m guessing there are plenty of authors out there who are willing to crank out convention. It sounds like your journey is beyond meeting convention (and the marketplace). You are seeking something deeper. Which I predict will, ironically, bring you – and those who stay with you – closer to a purer form of spirituality. And thereby closer to Christ.
Hope that’s not too presumptuous, but it’s my perspective based on the evidence. Keep digging. Be vital. You will vitalize. Thanks for sharing so openly!
Vaughn!!! you don’t know how much your words mean to me!!! not presumptuous at all, but you know how it is – sales be like, “sales? what sales?” (not actually, i *have* sold some books… ) and that lady’s review…
perhaps, though, it’s a good thing to pause once in a while, and consider, well, what your article is about – why we write.
ps – i’ve just finished four books in the past year and my brain is on sabbatical!!! (and therefore subject to wiley thoughts such as “what the hell am i doing?” LOL
Why write? Why tell stories? I’ve never asked myself that. Now that you’ve asked for me, I wonder. My urge to write is founded in, I think, the massive amounts of reading I did as a boy–comic books, science fiction and fantasy, the Book of Knowledge. Those images and ideas and facts shaped who I was. But that doesn’t explain the urge to tell stories.
Is it to give back? I don’t think so. At the early stages, it was just to do it for, I’m now thinking, my own juvenile satisfaction. A baby takes those first steps just to do it. In short, I enjoyed it. To draw something that made me smile. To write something that made me nod at the feeling my creation gave me.
I developed enough skill at drawing and writing to create viable comic strips. I tried to get them syndicated, of course, and my thought was what a wonderful thing it would be to have to get up in the morning and my sole task for the day would be to create a comic strip that was funny. That made me laugh. That gave a laugh to other people. That paid the bills by doing something that was fun all the way through.
In saying that, I come to your question about audience. Was my drive/need/desire just to make myself laugh? Your essay brings me to think that I grew to want to share that funny thought, that teensy insight into what it means to be people. To share with other humans a take on the nature of what and who we are.
I moved from comic strips to screenplays and now to novels, and it seems the same. Through my stories, and jokes, and cartoons, I’m illustrating my take on how it goes for us humans through my own sometimes peculiar lens.
And when your laugh comes, when your smile spreads, when your Amazon review says I touched you, that sharing of our mutual human connection makes me happy.
And that is, I think, the why.
Having said that, another thought strikes. When you resonate with my thought/cartoon/film/story, It means that I’m not alone.
Thanks for your thoughts, young feller.
Wow, cool, Ray – I didn’t know about your background in cartooning. That’s an interesting path, and one that I’m sure helps you as a novelist. I mean, you have to convey a lot of story in a very condensed way, and with a very specific goal. And the desired result is a very human reaction – an emotion, even… Laughter.
I’m glad to hear you still pondering the “need” for audience. It’s been a bugaboo for me, one that’s haunted me of late. I too really enjoy the human connection aspect. But I’ve been thinking there’s got to be something bigger there, as well. I really like the notion that “it means that I’m not alone.” Excellent observations.
Thanks for sharing a bit of your story, good sir. Really insightful and fun comment. :)
I’ve started rewatching the Power of Myth also. It has many good things to say about storytelling! But yes, I’ve asked myself that ‘why’ question. I don’t have just one answer. Years ago, I paid real attention to the feeling I had reading a story. It’s a feeling hard to describe, but it was a powerful moment in a story that I could feel resonating inside my body, a sort of anxiety/excitement/wonder, and I knew I wanted to create stories that could cause other people to feel that same way. Like, I’d felt magic and needed other people to feel it too. Maybe it was too big to contain, to keep to myself.
Don’t we do this when something amazes us–we call someone over and tell them to look or to listen at the thing that blew us away (or made us laugh or cringe or whatever)? And then we want that person to say, yes! I feel it too!
I think that’s why I write.
Yes, Marta! I LOVE the concept that the resonating of story is too big to contain, and thereby must be shared. You’ve struck a chord that was never quite sounded, either in the essay or the comments.
I find I’m often still mulling this issue, and you’ve offered a vibe and a fullness that was missing. Thank you! Have a great weekend, my friend.