You are the Magic
By John J Kelley | October 29, 2018 |
Something happened when I sat down earlier this weekend to put finishing touches on what was supposed to become this post. Suddenly a topic to which I’d been so committed just days earlier no longer spoke to me. It was overshadowed, I imagine, by a week of violent acts driven by the darkest human instincts. My first reaction, which I’ve come to know all too well, was one of paralysis coupled with a sense of disorientation. However, surprisingly, this time that mood soon passed. Rather than yield even an inch more ground to the negative, I found myself brimming with defiant optimism, not only for my writing but also for the creations of my tribe, meaning all of you, a band of storytellers spanning the globe. And so what I have to offer today is a fan letter, a pep talk for a troubled time.
My message is this – You are the magic for which the world hungers.
You possess all the tools, right at this moment, to accomplish what you were born to do. As author Neil Gaiman once wrote, “The one thing you have that nobody else has is you. Your voice, your mind, your story, your vision. So write and draw and play and dance and live as only you can.” No one else will put in the time, do the research, plumb the emotions, flesh out the characters, and set the tone for the seed of a story that the forces in your life have planted. Only you can bring that seed to full bloom. Moreover, it is your duty to do so – not just for your readers, but for yourself.
“Why?” you may ask.
Because the world needs your voice! Stories send ripples across continents and through cultures. Stories shape minds. And most importantly, particularly in times like these, stories change hearts. Your writings contribute to a tapestry that captures what it means to be human, at our best and at our very worst. It doesn’t matter if you write comedies or mysteries or dramas set in our own world, past or present, or ones set in alien galaxies a billion light years away. It doesn’t matter if your tales are as vast as a global war or as small as a single household. Your protagonist may be an aging matriarch or an orphaned youth. They may be timid, kind, brave or cruel (and maybe all of those and more). What matters is your devotion to getting it right, to conveying what is real in your world, aligning with your unique perspective. For when writing hits upon truth, eyes are opened. Maybe millions will eventually see your story. But even if it only reaches a dozen, you will have built a bridge where a wall once stood.
So do your duty.
Turn off the internet. You can fact check later, and I promise the cat videos will be there when you return. Stay informed, but also shut off the news for a while each day. Dive deep into your story. Embrace your magic and cast your spell. Because your audience is waiting, and they are starving for a new vision.
I must admit I need this advice as much as any of you. And while I want to send you on your way immediately, if it helps to shout out the reasons your current story matters, please sound off below. I, and others of our clan, would love a glimpse into your brilliant story mind.
[coffee]
John J Kelley crafts tales of individuals at a crossroads, exploring themes of growth, reconciliation and community. His debut novel, The Fallen Snow, about a young soldier’s homecoming at the close of WWI, received a Publishers Weekly starred review and earned an Honorable Mention nod at the 2012 Foreword Reviews Book-of-the-Year Awards.
Born and raised in the Florida panhandle, John graduated from Virginia Tech and for a time served as a military officer. Today he lives with his partner in Washington, DC.
Thank you for this, on a Monday that is grey, cold and full of troubled news. Mondays are not ideal for writing anyway (not for me at least), but I will keep my story in mind as I make my way through this day. And maybe later I can write a little.
Sending warm thoughts to all story-lovers around the world!
Thanks, J. Keep plugging on that story, and the next one, and the one after that. Mondays are a mixed bag with me, with some tougher than others. But pondering the story over a cup of Joe or a cuppa tea, is a good place to start. Write On!
Thank you, thank you, thank you, John. I needed to hear this today. I’m sure we all did. My heart feels broken. But somewhere I read that “a warrior lives with a broken heart.” I took this to mean that a person who strives to shine a light in the darkness has to live with his eyes wide open and to cultivate the strength not just to bear witness, but to speak into the din. Not by shouting, but by finding our true voices. By telling stories, singing songs, painting pictures. By doing whatever we do best that adds light and nudges out the dark. You gave me my mandate today, and like J, above, I’m send a giant fist-pump to all the storytellers out there.
I love that quote, Susan, and your interpretation of it. We all play a part in banishing the darkness. Laughter, tears, and all the genuine emotions in between are the antidote to a cynical world fueled by paper monsters. We ourselves rely on stories to see us through, to find our center. And in times like these, the stories we tell are needed more than ever.
I love this, John, and your beautiful spirit. My next novel, which took a turn after Don Maass’s similarly motivating speech at UnCon 2016, is on submission now. I may return to this every day to see me through.
When stepping back to ponder story in general or as it relates to my own writing, both Don and Lisa Cron always cross my mind. I’ve no doubt their faith in story has informed my own.
I’m excited to see your new book, and to see how your voice has grown from your earlier stellar works.
Susan, “a warrior lives with a broken heart” is an absolutely stunning reminder. Any idea where it came from? (I did a quick Google search, to no avail.) Regardless, thank you for sharing it.
And thanks to John for this necessary topic.
Great post, John. Thank you for this inspiration. We all need it to continue on this rocky path. My story matters for the same reason it mattered when I began Book One of this trilogy (I’m now finishing Book Three), because it was meant to be a story of great hope for anyone that has lost someone tragically, particularly someone young. It started with the story question of what if you’re young, the unthinkable happens, and you’re stuck in the afterlife? Do you get a second chance there to ‘live’, to love, maybe even to fulfill your destiny? These questions have been the force driving me to write The Ghost Chronicles. When I struggled to go on, these questions wouldn’t let me quit. This story would not let me quit. And I’m so glad I didn’t.
I love the concept behind The Ghost Chronicles. I’m particularly drawn to the idea of finding your destiny through all obstacles, worldly and “after worldly.” Plus it shatters the idea that growing somehow would end in an afterlife. Great stuff, and a reminder we all need. There is no destination; it’s the journey that matters.
Holy inspiration, John, what an empowering message. Do your duty. Do you know how often the feeling fogs my frontal lobe that writing fiction is somehow the opposite? And yet, I immediately recognized the truth of it. My work is my best shot at making an impact and leaving an impression in this world. The numbers don’t matter. The words do.
Wonderful and timely message, my friend. All I can say is thank you.
You are welcome, Vaughn. Speaking of inspiration, I haven’t encountered any photos of the lake as of late, but I’ve been a bit preoccupied. I’m sure they are there, and I’ll scroll your feed later to find them.
Autumn has finally reached us here in the mid-Atlantic, and the brisk northern winds always breathe new life into my own efforts. Starting fresh, and all that. Here’s to productivity to our purpose! Cheers!
Lovely post, John. I really enjoyed this one. It was a gift on this Monday morning.
Thanks, Heather. I enjoy an exchange of gifts. And the stories we write are our gift, aren’t they? We should all on occasion step back and remember that. Be well, and write on!
John, this is rich stuff. I appreciate your putting it out there. It’s a message seldom heard that we are unique and a new audience awaits our special voice and story. Accepting that precept cuts through all the obstacles. It will get me started at the keyboard as soon as I finish this note.
My own experience with confidence comes with an abrupt change in choice of genre from historical romance to thriller. Oil and water, yes? I’ve toggled between two voices, two tenses, two protagonist genders for a year. Often creeping doubt puts me off my mark. Your words encourage me to stick with it and believe in my new character (really not so new after several years of fits and starts).
Great stuff, you’re a gem!
Thanks, Dan, for the encouragement and for calling me a gem ;). Feels nice. See, you are putting in the time to get it right, the right character for the proper story. And it does matter, crucially, doesn’t it? Even if no reader ever sees the alchemy behind the scenes, it matters. I know there are countless examples in any book of a writer making decisions and changes until it fits, until it feels real.
I still share with non-writer friends the hours I spent looking up phases of the moon (in a book with no apparent mystical elements) and abandoned train routes, just so I could find an actual train with a corresponding date for a fictional character’s travel. Somehow doing that allowed me to “see” him better, and to step into his boots for a most painful homecoming.
It is that willingness to step into another world, and bring it into ours, that has power to expand both our universe and that of our readers.
I’m always looking for the magic in the world, and you are some of it today, with your post. Your suggestion to get off the internet and out of the news cycle and go write is sound, because writing is so much magic to the writer’s soul, as well as the reader’s soul. Thanks for the reminder. :)
Yes! That is it. Writing heals the soul. I’m glad I could help nudge you this morning, as so many posts here at WU have helped me over the years.
Beautiful post, John. In a time of sometimes overwhelming darkness, this is a call to action, a call to resist, a call for courage. I need that courage this morning. A bleary Monday when the world seems as cold and gray, and hard as the hearts of some of our politicians. Thank you for bringing light.
Thank you, Bernadette! You are a beacon too, possessing a strong voice, which I get to see nearly every day. I appreciate that because we are stronger together.
Thanks for this most important message, John. My WIP is narrative nonfiction, based on meticulous research, that shines a little light on some past events that are popularly supposed to be universally dark and grim. I often wonder “who cares?” except me, and then I have to remind myself that this work has importance and needs to live. Even though WU focuses on fiction, I find plenty of information about narrative techniques that I can use, along with the daily inspiration from fellow toilers regardless of genre. (Not to mention that some fictions are clamoring for attention behind the nonfiction WIP, and they will eventually benefit from all the wisdom here.)
On this very dark and grim Monday, we need all these reminders that our work is essential. We must, we must tell our stories.
Narrative nonfiction is one of my favorite genres, though I’ve never ventured in that direction myself. Like a well-presented documentary, there’s a real talent in building a compelling story to conveys factual information. Even better is when the works dispel, or at least round out, popular myths around a piece of history or a specific incident.
I applaud the work you do, and it is important. Take care, Anna, and have a good Monday.
I do believe in WU, in the words of all of you. I can imagine rooms across our beloved country and beyond, with writers working, pulling ideas from experience and working to create empathy and lasting feelings in their readers. Yes, it can be magic and it can turn the future in the direction we want it. Thanks, John. Just this morning I’ve heard from two friends pertaining to something I wrote. Maybe it amounted to 30 words. But each of those have power, as do yours today.
It is always a wonderful thing when friends, and friends we have not yet met, reach out to us on our writings, isn’t it? I’ve never been more aware of being an empath than I have been these past few years. And while I know writers come in all shapes and sizes, I think most writers absorb what is happening around us in profound ways.
I liken the process to learning to modify our filters so we can handle the flood of information and emotion. Only then can we weave it into our writing, informing our current stories, or crafting new ones. Spelled out, it sounds easy. But it is a constant challenge, one that at times makes it easy to doubt our voice.
Thank you, John, for the lovely reminder that our stories unite us. Maybe they unite a dozen or maybe a million, and maybe not until after we’re gone. But stories are what we have and what we do. I’ll keep writing mine if you’ll keep writing yours!
That’s a deal, JL. Let’s do it!
Loved your post, and the magic is that it came at a dark, questioning time, and made things truly magic. Thank you!
You’re welcome, Lecia. I’m glad you found a spark in it. The world is bathed in light, even when clouds cast a shadow.
And as the band Switchfoot sings, “The shadow proves the sunshine.”
Love this, Janice. So much so that I just looked up Switchfoot. Good song, and great lyrics. I hadn’t connected them with A Walk to Remember until now.
From John’s comment just above: “And while I know writers come in all shapes and sizes, I think most writers absorb what is happening around us in profound ways. I liken the process to learning to modify our filters so we can handle the flood of information and emotion. Only then can we weave it into our writing, informing our current stories, or crafting new ones.”
There is such wisdom here. In the last few years, I’ve really struggled with too much absorption of anger, grief, and bewilderment at what is happening in our country. As a result, I struggle to find my sense of purpose and to believe in the significance of my little Victorian mystery. Writing can become a slog in that case. It feels as if the negativity is so close, right there at the touch of a button, and it has the power to sap my energy before I even get started.
So thank you, John, for this beautifully uplifting post! It helps immeasurably to be among kindred spirits.
You are welcome, S.K. I do hope the post helps. I am certainly reassured knowing I’m not the only one having to learn, repeatedly, how to keep focus. Another thing that has opened my eyes is realizing how much I crave new stories these days, both in print and in film. I, and friends of mine, are hungry it seems for parables to help navigate a world aflame, or one that could be set aflame, at a moment’s provocation.
And those stories don’t have to be about dark subjects; often they are not. Sometimes stories simply remind us of our foibles, and of the humanity of those around us. Laughter can be healing, and the solving of a mystery set in the Victorian age can be revelatory. If nothing else, the times certainly remind us as writers of the nuances present in those we encounter every day. There are depths of great kindness and, yet, sadly, sometimes depths of cruelty as well. Things to ponder with characters in our own stories, both the “heroes” and the “villains.”
May your writing be deepened by all that we are enduring now, together.
Again, thank you so much! We do crave stories, especially when the darkness surrounds us. I like the ones that confront the cruelty in the world but ultimately celebrate the human decency and kindness that arise to meet it.
Thanks so much for the pep talk this Monday morning. This weekend I read a powerful reflection on healing: “Tue healing takes courage because it brings about change and places new demands on us.” https://blog.adw.org/2018/10/a-man-who-saw-by-hearing-3/
I find this to be true, both for my physical, mental, and spiritual well-being. The good thing is that discipline in one area almost always infuses itself into other areas of my life.
And it is a parable too! Love your insight that disciplines in one area of life permeate other areas as well. Love, too, that the lesson in your example is conveyed from the past via story.
Reminds me of a favorite quote from Carl Sagan —
“What an astonishing thing a book is. It’s a flat object made from a tree with flexible parts on which are imprinted lots of funny dark squiggles. But one glance at it and you’re inside the mind of another person, maybe somebody dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, an author is speaking clearly and silently inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people who never knew each other, citizens of distant epochs. Books break the shackles of time. A book is proof that humans are capable of working magic.”
Love that quote by Sagan. Books really and truly break the space/time barrier.
Well, John, this post actually made me cry…and I am at work! The tears come because you hit upon everything that I am feeling and telling myself to do right now. I confess I steal time at work to write. Your post made me feel like someone is actually listening even if I’ve never met them. You made me feel like we were in the same room.
I am currently working on a short story about restorative justice. My protagonist, is goes to meet the person who killed her husband, in cold blood, in front of her.
My daughter worked for an organization that facilitated such meetings.
Right now I feel the subject matter is more compelling than my story is. It’s only the second draft though.
Thank you again for your post. You and your words have a made a difference in my life today.
I didn’t mean to cause tears, especially at work. But I am honored that my words touched you. I hope they spur your story on as well. It starts with a compelling subject, compelling to us anyway. And then it becomes something more, due to our efforts. You’ll find the right words, or they’ll find you, to capture your story and shed light on things about our world today.
This post is perfect for today, thank you. I’m currently between projects–deliberately so–and taking stock of what I need and what I need to explore next. I’m not experiencing a lack of faith in the value of the writing so much as a sense that it’s time to watch and listen (more offline than online, granted) for the next glimmer of magic to pursue.
Just this morning I came across a passage from a Thomas Lux poem (“An Horatian Notion”) that I think fits our conversation here:
“You make the thing because you love the thing
and you love the thing because someone else has loved it
enough to make you love it.
And with that your heart like a tent peg pounded
toward the earth’s core.
And with that your heart on a beam burns
through the ionosphere.
And with that you go to work.”
I love this, Alisha. What a lovely poem. I just looked up Thomas Lux, who passed away last year. He was a remarkably prolific writer. I will have to pick up some of his collected works.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Lux
This poem was apparently well-loved by one of my favorite undergrad professors. She passed away (too soon) this summer, and was such a gifted teacher and mentor for so many students over the years. I say that not to add a sad note, but say that I think she understood so well the idea of answering to a calling, or as you put it, doing one’s duty. So your post just reinforces that powerful sense of responsibility and encouragement I got when I heard this at her memorial at a class reunion. :-)
Lux is new to me, too. I think part of my personal coping strategy for the immediate future will be reading a bit more poetry.
I’ve gained a much greater appreciation for poetry in recent years, both for personal reasons and quite desperation – as Thoreau put it, in the general state of things, and life. Poems capture indelible moments and delicate threads of life that are sometimes hard to express in prose.
Back again, just to say that today’s conversation is one of the reasons I love and treasure this site and the people on it.
You and me both, Anna. WU always inspires, and educates me too.
John, stories do change hearts, as you say, and mine’s had a long crack in it the last few days, so I’ll soak it in stories and then try to share my own.
And thanks for telling me that I’m the magic, because often I’m more of an old pillowcase. (But I dress better if company’s coming.) Thanks for being real amidst the confusion and pain.
I’m kind of a ratty shorts and sweats kind of guy myself, though I do clean up pretty well (when I must).
And I understand the need to slow down, feel and mend before proceeding. It’s understandable and necessary. Be well.
John, thank you for this inspiration. Perfect timing on so many levels!
Happy to be of service, Elaine … genuinely. I just sense we could all use a boost about now. We need to be at our best with all that is going on these days.
Per your request, my current WIP is actually nonfiction–the biography of an obscure pastor in Liberia, West Africa.
He and his wife and children lived as refugees in the jungle throughout the horrors of Liberia’s fourteen-year civil war, 1989-2003. They all survived, unlike 200,000 or more of their countrymen.
I want to make his story come alive for the reader. This will allow him to speak for those who died, as well as for those survivors who otherwise have no voice.
That sounds like a remarkable, and important, project. I admire writers such as yourself with a gift for breathing life into true stories. That is why it pains me to see journalism so under fire when so many journalists strive to get the facts and the story right. I wish you all the best as the work comes together. May the pastor’s story find a large audience.
John, this was exactly what I needed to read tonight. Thank you.
I’m glad. And you’re welcome. Have a good evening, Heather, and a great day tomorrow.
Just WONDERFUL! I am spiritually invigorated. Thank you so much for sharing this, John. Such wise words. I’m sharing it all over my social media. Cheers & happy writing to all!
Good morning, Kerry! I am honored, and so happy to hear you were inspired by the post. Write On!