The Writer Who Can’t Write
By Rheea Mukherjee | October 15, 2018 |
Big thanks to contributor Julie Carrick Dalton for introducing us to today’s guest, Rheea Mukherjee!
Rheea’s debut novel, The Body Myth, recently sold to Unnamed Press and will be published in February 2019! She holds an MFA from California College of the Arts. Her fiction and non-fiction has been published in several publications including Scroll.in, Southern Humanities Review, Out of Print, Cleaver Magazine, Kitaab, and Bengal Lights.
She co-founded Bangalore Writers Workshop in 2012 and currently co-runs Write Leela Write, a Design and Content Laboratory in Bangalore. She is represented by Stacy Testa from Writers House.
She’s with us today to talk about an issue that, once upon a time, tested her ability to convey language and threatened her dream of becoming a writer.
Learn more about Rheea on her website and on Twitter.
The Writer Who Can’t Write
I suspect most writers knew they were meant to write before they actually did. This knowledge could have manifested in a bunch of ways. It might have been a passing idea: I think I might be good with words. It might have been a nagging voice: hey you, you’re supposed to be a writer, so write! It might have been a quick thought that was rapidly covered in self-doubt: Maybe, I can write? Nope, you suck, remember?
Or maybe you were one of the more confident ones, aware from an early age that you were meant to write and then did so without an ounce of self-doubt. (Can we meet?)
I was 14 when I first thought I could, maybe, possibly, write. But all the evidence to this was severely contradictory.
I am a third-culture kid. I did schooling in the U.S till the 4th grade and then moved to India where I finished high school. I was back in America for college and graduate school. Living in two cultures has blessed me with all sorts of empathy and boosted my writing imagination. So far so good right?
But see, back when I was in high school in India, the only exams I did well in were English and Biology. I failed most other subjects. I owe this to learning in a very rigid Indian school system while simultaneously dealing with massive cultural changes.
However, at the time, there was only one reason for my failings: I sucked, totally and completely. Why else would I fail this hard?
As a young adult, I realized that my childhood instinct was right. I was good at writing, or rather communicating a moment, time, or idea in a text.
I really was.
But the technicality of writing was something my brain did not cooperate with. And here’s where I tell you the truth.
I can’t spell. I literally cannot. I am moderately dyslexic, so I can’t see basic errors and many of my words read upside down or are missing letters even though they appear correct to me. Somehow, I had gotten away with this (via blissful ignorance and teachers who never really called me out on it) until I finished high school.
Then I turned 18 and went to college in Colorado. My 101 college composition classes were giving me a C Minus for a grade. A total hit to my evolving identity. The one ‘talent’ I thought I had was average at best.
I still didn’t have a grasp of how bad the situation was. I had all the ideas, I even had sentences that could dazzle, explore and perform, but they were riddled with very basic mistakes and made-up words. I legitimately thought ‘mying’ was a word for 4 straight years that were well into adulthood.
This caused a vicious anxiety: there was a big thumping need to write and live through writing but I was too scared to put it out there.
Flashforward to 2018. I have published many stories, non-fiction articles, opinion pieces, and have a debut novel coming out in February in the U.S.A.
I co-run a company (Write Leela Write) that develops content and it’s been running successfully for more than four years. But it’s not because I have a story with some dramatic change, some miracle cure that got me to a place where I could embrace what I wanted to do and carve out space for me to thrive.
The truth is that I just kept embracing new levels of discomfort every day. I had to develop new abilities. The ability to ask for help from a strong copy-editor when I needed it. The ability to spend twenty extra minutes going through every sentence, even for a Facebook post. The ability to be okay with ‘editing’ that post for errors over 48 hours of having posted it. The ability to ask a writer friend (thanks Manjiri!) to copy check this very essay for me.
The ability to tell editors, clients, and peers what I can do best and what I fail at. The ability to tell them: I am so excited about what I wrote here, but can you look at it for creativity first and then I’ll do a copy check? It’s not like all editors and clients are open to this, but it hasn’t stopped me from being transparent about where I shine and where I’ll make a grammar expert weep till midnight.
And finally, it’s the ability to be okay with my weird usage of punctuation when I write informally.
Yes, of course, I’ve gotten better. I am better at knowing the types of mistakes I make and therefore better at catching them. Spellcheck has literally facilitated my career. And I’ve been really lucky.
You may have that path you want to try out. You may have that gut knowledge about something you are meant to do. But you might stay far away from it because you think you fail at a very basic part of it.
Here’s the thing, the cliche is true. You can do anything you want to. You can do anything you want to as long as you are transparent, open to learning, and willing to ask for help when you need it.
My name is Rheea, and I am a writer. English is my first language. And I legitimately thought the word ‘mying’ existed until I was 25.
Have you struggled with something that other writers seem (seem) to find easy? How have you compensated for your perceived writerly weaknesses? What have you achieved after battling back your own doubt?
Rheea Mukherjee is the author of The Body Myth, (February 2019/ Unnamed Press). Her fiction and non-fiction have been published in several publications including Scroll.in, Southern Humanities Review, Out of Print, QLRS, and Anti Serious among others.
She is the co-founder of Write Leela Write, a design and content laboratory in Bangalore, India.
She spends most of her spare time eating and making vegan hipster things.
Learn more at www.rheeamukherjee.com, and follow her on Twitter and Facebook.
Rheea, I loved this essay and I thought everybody makeofied words like mying. Congratulations on your new book and chasing what you love doing. And you’ve done what most people are proud to admit, and asked for help. Brava!
“The truth is that I just kept embracing new levels of discomfort every day. I had to develop new abilities.” This is what I do continually too. I just self-published a novel. It’s both scary and exhilarating when all you’ve done before is trade with a team of people behind you. Now I’m it. Learning by doing. What kills me is that I stutter, but I rather enjoy public speaking. School visits can be hard. Kids are the cruelest of all, and what do I do? Write for kids. Lol. I must be mad but I do love what I’m doing.
Thank you so much for your comment <3 Yes, I do think we all make up some words, lol. Although my version was a bit wild.
Beautiful and encouraging to all writers. And … what does ‘mying’ mean? Curious 😊
Thank you so much! And hahaha, I thought ‘Mying’ could mean ‘Mine’
Like a verb? “To my” meaning to take possession of something? That would be a great one! For example: “My brother is mying all of my books again!” This would be a very sensible sentence in our family! – LOVE IT! … Let’s all start using it and see if we can get the world to accept it! :-)
No, seriously, I admire your courage and determination! Here’s to third culture kids and the power of dreams!
I wish more writers would learn how to write. Far too many basic grammatical errors and poorly constructed sentences out there. From professionals, no less!
And I thought I was the only one who spent twenty minutes proofing their Facebook posts.
As for “mying,” can you use it in a sentence?
First, Rheea, congrats on your success. Toast! Eat chocolate!
Second… although we’ve never met, I am proud of you for recognizing your limitations, and finding ways to overcome them. Your determination is inspirational.
I have been writing for a several decades. I am an award-winning, traditionally published author. I am also a professional editor. YET, I have the utmost difficulty getting my head around possessives. I have a thorough understanding of The Chicago Manual, and have read and reread sections regarding possessives a thousand times. But still struggle with this particular grammar rule.
Why? I’m not entirely sure. I know, however, I will never give up trying. And even if I never become an expert at possessives, I will die giving it my best shot!
Kudos to you, Rheea.
Dee
Inspiring essay, Rheea. You’re right–we have to push through the discomfort. I guess it helps to realize that everyone has challenges and human shortcomings. Best of luck with your book!
Thank you so so much!
Hi Rheea – I think almost all of us suffer from some utter ignorance of one or more of the many important facets and nuances of crafting a written piece worthy of being read by another non-related human being.
Actually, one of my early myopic tendencies is something that still requires my constant diligence: run-on sentences with multiple clauses–the kind that either requires rereading or will simply cause readers to skim or stop reading. (See what I just did there?)
And speaking of worthiness of being read, even by a relative, I’ll never forget excitedly sharing a very early version of my first manuscript. I sent it to my brother-in-law. He’d been foolish enough to express mild interest. For months I heard nothing back. Then he and his family finally came to visit. I tried–oh, how I tried–to not bring it up. We were sent to the store before dinner. In the car, alone together, I could no longer resist. I prompted him, and he cut me off like he knew it was coming. He unleashed his obvious pent-up frustration with something very close to: “What were you thinking, sending that steaming pile of crap to me? It’s unreadable! Please don’t send stuff that’s rough like that to anyone else. I mean, you barely even have a paragraph break!”
During the awkwardly silent ride home from the store, I realized it was all true. I’d sent it too early. As a voracious reader, I recognized that I didn’t know how to use paragraphs. Or dialog. I was in over my head. Out of my league. How could I have not recognized this about myself? What *was* I thinking?
Afterward, it took me months to pull myself out of the hole I’d dug for myself. But in the end, the longing to get it right outweighed the shame and the desire to avoid its recurrence (particularly on any scale beyond a lone but brutally honest brother-in-law).
In the end, I see that he did me a favor. Just as I’m sure you are doing here, for many who will read this and feel heartened (albeit in a much kinder and more helpful way). Thanks for your honesty and inspiration. Congratulations on the upcoming debut!
Rheea! I’m so happy to see you here at Writer Unboxed! Thank you for this essay. I wake up so many days convinced that I cannot write. But I still write. I’m either delusional or passionately committed. Probably a little bit of both.
I love this: “The truth is that I just kept embracing new levels of discomfort every day.” I’ll try to hold onto that as I confront my own insecurities.
Julie
“Embracing new levels of discomfort every day.” I agree with Julie. That is a powerful act.
I don’t have dyslexia. I don’t lack confidence. Even so, there are many kinds of difficulties to face in writing. Mine has to do with emotions, not just writing them but letting characters come in with their messes, making me care and causing me to feel the loses they incur.
Blame my tight-lipped New England upbringing. But every life involves loss. Facing that is uncomfortable but coming through it is beautiful. You remind me today, Rheea, that there is so happy ending unless some pain precedes it. Thank you for this post.
(BTW, I had to look up how to spell “precedes” so you’re not alone in that spelling thing.)
And look…a typo in my comment! Instead of “so” it should be “no”. There you go.
I’m a writer and a private educational consultant. The dyslexic students are some of my favorite. They have interesting brains and have often developed compensatory strategies and strengths to offset their reading/spelling difficulties. I will add you to my list of role models.
Well done! And good luck. My youngest daughter is dyslexic but when she was at school our education authority didn’t recognise it or test for it. Eventually, I realised her glowing teachers’ reports didn’t gel with her exam results and I paid for a teacher’s assessment (not the expensive, psychologist’s assessment) which gave her reading age as twelve at a time she was due to sit her GCSEs (that’s coming up sixteen, for those not familiar with the UK’s education system).
When we had the result she said ‘I’m so relieved, Mum. I thought I was just thick.’ Fortunately, her A-Level college and her Univesity were more supportive.
Thank you for sharing your writer’s journey, Rheea. Your words gave me hope that my dreams could come true. I’m a writer with dyslexia. Wishing you continued success.
Even though my dyslexia made learning to read and basic grammar a mountain of a challenge to get over growing up. I credit my dyslexia with giving me “different lenses to view the world”.making me a more creative writer
Rhee – Love your story.
I read a beautiful poem/poetry today by Radhika Jain..so aptly put the situation you went through and we all go through..copying it below..Thank you Radhika
I stood on the edge, the reflections of my face clear in the still waters.
I looked into my eyes and through the uncertainty of my gaze into the depths of my fears, as deep as the still waters.
I knew not to swim but dive I had to.
Destiny hadn’t led me here but the choice of my conviction.
Barely did I exhale, lest my breath create a ripple in the blue still waters.
I feared the ripples, the ripples of uncertainty.
What churn lay beneath the stillness, I wondered?
Would it be a whirlpool that sucks the spirit out of me?
Would the bottomless pit swallow my dream?
My little toe touched the water,
And I pulled back in shock; this was unfamiliar, this was unknown.
An unknown force beckoned me, and I waded in.
Toe by toe, step by step
The blue water not so still anymore.
My breathing heavy, I was dragged further in
I thrashed around, arms and legs in a spin.
Float I must but also meet the depth
‘Cause only in the unknown can I find my self.
The water and I, challenging each other,
Its stillness breaking, my senses sharpening.
I knew not to swim but I found a way
It’s a wonder to move but there’s a beauty to stay.
Toe by toe, step by step.
The ripples around me, some calmness inside.
I move, I wait, I slip, I start
Destiny hadn’t led me here but the choice of my conviction.
It’s my journey, every drop of the way!