The Gifts of the Writing Life
By Vaughn Roycroft | December 17, 2018 |
It’s the holiday season! And regardless of how you celebrate, it’s a great time of year for taking stock. You know, the short days, the long, often cold nights, the fires in the hearth. And around here, the blissful silence of a snowy walk.*
My December post here last year related how I’d been reminded of the original spark that brought me to the page as a writer, and how the reminder felt like a gift—one that, in the spirit of the season, I wanted to pass along to my fellow WUers. Rereading the piece made me realize that there are many other gifts the writing life tends to bestow.
So, in the interest of taking stock, and in the same seasonal spirit, I thought I’d try to identify and list some of those gifts.
A few disclaimers: This list is far from complete. And both the gifts and the quantity and quality of each varies by the writer. I understand that many of these are virtues, and I don’t mean to portray writers as more virtuous than non-writers, and particularly not myself. I’m only saying that we’re all works-in-progress. And, hey, we all know how challenging this gig can be. Heaven knows how hard we can be on ourselves–over goals not met, deadlines missed, etcetera. Why not take a moment to focus on the often unremarked benefits we reap from our efforts? Particularly now, during the gift-giving season.
So let’s put another log on the fire and take stock, shall we?
Heightening Empathy—There are numerous studies that show that reading fiction leads to greater empathy. And it makes such obvious sense, that regularly putting oneself into the shoes of characters heightens one’s willingness to seek, and ability to grasp, a better understanding of our fellow humans.
But what does that mean for us writers? As writers, the act of putting ourselves in the shoes of others is no mere passive byproduct of the undertaking. In order to provide the feels, we have to live the feels. Creating the stories that successfully inspire empathy in our readers requires us to constantly strive to immerse ourselves in the perspective and the feelings of others (even the villains!). To do so, we must explore beyond superficial goals and motivations and delve into hidden or subconscious desires and fears, joys and sorrows.
The more sustained our effort, the more improved the outcome. Hence, the longer we strive to improve our writing, the more habitual and acute our empathy becomes.
Increasing Humility—I know, I know—in an essay that touts (brags on?) our gifts, I’m going to talk about how humble we are. Ironic? Well, it’s hard to deny that a writer who has yet to embrace humility is one who’s in for difficulty or pain, or both. Ours is an endeavor for which conceit is a prime liability. Failure and rejection are certain to occur. Early attempts are certain to produce less than our desired results. Self-evaluation requires practice. Practice that can only come with the wholehearted acceptance of feedback. And that acceptance requires humility.
Humility offers the prism through which we not only perceive the work’s flaws, but the path to overcoming them. Humility provides us with the distinction between ourselves and our work. As we grow as writers, we naturally take ourselves less seriously. Not to say that we don’t gain confidence, too. Indeed, I think there’s usually a correlation between building genuine humility and acquiring quiet confidence.
Broadening Outlook—Curiosity begets curiosity, doesn’t it? I mean, one minute you’re researching Ancient Roman wedding ceremonies, and the next you’re digging for information about Roman women’s rights, and then the role of slaves in the typical Roman household, and so on and so on. And all the while you’re building that aforementioned empathy, wondering what life was like for them.
As writers we are constantly seeking the big picture. In order to be successful, we must strive to reveal our world-view through the details that have informed and can project it. And, as Sarah Callender pointed out in her excellent essay here the other day, not only do we have to seek the answers, we writers must strive to ask the right questions. Sometimes it takes an entire book just to ask the right question, of ourselves and of our readers. The effort creates and sustains an ongoing evolution. The more we learn, the more we comprehend how much we don’t yet understand, inviting an ever broadening outlook.
Growing Generosity—I know some really generous writers. Don’t you? Of course you do. I’ve had other occupations, have been involved in other industries, and I’ve never found such ubiquitous generosity among my colleagues as I have in the writing world. If it didn’t exist, I seriously doubt I’d be here writing this essay. I think it’s due to the heightened empathy I mention above. No one knows what we’re going through like our fellow writers do, right? And being on the receiving end of the warm embrace of writerly generosity is bound to inspire imitation, don’t you think?
This is one area for which I’m definitely a work in progress. My wife, bless her, is always thinking of others, even when she’s shopping, or simply flipping through a catalog (something I dislike, even when shopping for myself). She also always thinks of the perfect thing to say/ask when she runs into friends and acquaintances. I’m terrible at that. But I’m working on it. And many of you regularly inspire me.
Stick-to-it-ive-ness—Okay, yes—I’m talking about perseverance, or the ability to continue doing something in spite of the difficulty or duration required. But we writers go a bit beyond mere perseverance. We learn how to finish stuff. Writing a novel (or a nonfiction manuscript) requires us to persevere again and again, through a series of finish lines. All in the pursuit of one project.
Finish a draft. Revise it. Revise it again. Review feedback. Revise it again. Start another and repeat—sometimes switching between two or more major projects as we proceed (not me, mind you, but I know writers who do this, and I admire the hell out of them for it). That’s not just continuing to do something in spite of the difficulty and duration required. Heck, by that definition, daily flossing is persevering. So I’m calling this gift stick-to-it-ive-ness. You can call it whatever you like, as long as you keep going until “The End.”
Fortitude—I think the perseverance required of writers is a generally accepted principle. But there’s something that comes along with persevering, and to me it provides a slightly different gift. There’s a certain sort of resolve and acceptance that builds as one endures. There’s a sort of grit and gumption that comes of putting yourself out there time and again. The word fortitude conveys courage in the face of hardship. I know a lot of brave writers, don’t you? And if I’ve gained any sort of courage as a result of my writing, it’s of the type that fortitude implies—resigned to the uncertainty, accepting of the adversity, and resolved to continue.
The fortitude we gain reveals that our fear is less-than, that the results are secondary, and that our ongoing endeavor is at once both the way forward and the ultimate reward.
Certitude—I’m not certain (heh) how this one will play, mostly because I’ve only acquired it relatively recently. I’m not talking about confidence, exactly. To some of you, what I’m calling my growing certitude might seem a bit woo-woo. But here it is in a nutshell: I feel as though I’ve found my calling.
As I mentioned, I’ve had other occupations; a couple of my past jobs could rightfully be called careers. Or at least career paths. But writing is so much more than a job. Or a career. It’s a way of life. It’s about more than economics (thank goodness!). It’s about seeking who I am, and what it means to be human, and what contribution I might make to humanity. It’s about striving beyond the day-to-day, seeking to see beyond the veil, and passing along whatever inspiration and illumination I find.
As I continue on my writing journey, I feel an increasing certitude that I’m doing what I’m meant to do. And I suspect I’m not alone in feeling this way.
The Gift That Keeps On Giving
I feel like I say this a lot, but I don’t think I can say it too often: I know I’m a lucky guy. Most every day I get to do what I love. And in the place that I consider my soul’s home, and with the companionship and full support of my soul mate.
It’s funny, but I still get the occasional sad-eyed smile from acquaintances. You know the one—that sympathetic look when someone asks about your pub status or book sales. Our heightened empathy informs us of how difficult it would be to explain the trove of gifts our chosen occupation bestows.
So regardless of our pub status or sales, regardless of whether we made our word count goals or all of our deadlines this year, let’s remember the gifts we are receiving simply by way of doing what we love.
Let’s keep the list going in the comments. What gifts has the writing life given to you?
Wishing you all the happiest of holiday seasons, and many bright blessings in the new year. Thank you for reading my essay(s). See you in 2019!
*The picture is from last year. We had snow but alas, it’s gone. And our dreams for a white Christmas this year are melting.
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.
Vaughn, what a great list. It’s like getting a hand-made stocking bulging with treasure! I love each item, but I especially love what you said about certitude (you can never get too woo-woo for me!) While I regularly question myself on the page (did I say enough? too much? Aggghhh!), I’ve realized over time and in tiny increments, that this is what I was born to do. This book. These characters. These questions I’m asking. What I would add to your list because it’s a gift I’ve recently acknowledged, is a new level of self-respect, forged in the fire of saying no to extraneous things and being careful where I spend my time and energy. As a recovering people-pleaser, I can say with confidence that I now see certain people being mad at me as a sign that I’m honoring myself. And of course, the biggest gift is the fellowship of my fellow writers. Thanks, Vaughn, and winter blessings to you and yours!!
Hey Susan – Oh, don’t worry, I know I can always count on you to go with me down any woo-woo trail, lol. What a wonderful addition self-respect is! Carving out the necessary time and space for our endeavor is vital. Which is why I think we need to achieve respect for the role and importance of storytelling in order to find that self-respect, and to create those boundaries.
Thanks for the excellent additions–to this essay and to so many other wonderful conversations here on WU during the past year. When it comes to writerly fellowship, you’re a gem among gems. Wishing you and yours a lovely holiday season, and many blessings in ’19!
Great list Vaughn and a good reminder of what we do and what it takes to do it. And glad you added generosity. I’m met so many writers willing to help out in so many ways. Thank you for the lovely post. Wishing you and your family a Merry Christmas and all the best in 2019! Happy writing!
Hi Diana – You know, I was a bit reluctant about adding generosity, like I’d be patting my own back. But when I think about the virtues of my fellow writers, it pops right to the top of the list, so how could I not?
Thanks for *your* frequent generosity. Same to you – wishing you and yours a Merry Christmas and the best for the new year!
Great post, Vaughn – and an easy question for me to answer:
Community.
Through both the Internet and face-to-face encounters, being a writer has put me in contact with a wonderful and ever-growing community of people who come from all walks of life, but are united in having felt compelled to capture their stories in writing.
Being a part of this community has been an incredible experience, as well as giving me access to a tremendous resource and source of strength in what could potentially be a lonely and maddening pursuit.
WU, I’m looking at YOU.
Hey Keith – It’s such a vital addition! No list would be complete without community. (And a “hand, head” moment for one of the WU FB group mods. D’oh!)
I think that the empathy and generosity I mention are two of the ingredients that amplify the awesomeness of the writing community. As in, this one goes to eleven.
Thanks for being among the most consistently funny and generous members of my community. Happiest of holidays to you and yours!
Perfect list. Empathy would top mine too as well as humility. I am humbled reading the works of others and learning about the writing process that has led them to success. Writing is something I look forward to and so tenacity is easy for me. As for certitude, I slipped into my past careers with eagerness, youth and most often ease. But writing is a way of life and like you, I know as long as I have thoughts to share it will be part of me and a joyful one most days. Wishing you a wonderful holiday season and hours of good writing in 2019.
Hey Beth – You’ve touched on something important here. Any of us who’ve spent much time seeking to improve our writing is bound to be humbled by reading how well (and seemingly effortlessly) our fellows use their words to convey the human condition. The same holds true for our wise mentors, and their ability to find simplicity from within the endlessly complex.
Thanks much for essential contribution to the writing conversation here on WU, Beth. Happy holidays to you and yours! And back at you on the hours of good writing in the new year (I love that sentiment!).
Tremendous list, Vaughn. Your wisdom is a gift to WU. All the best to you and your family for a happy holiday season.
Hey Chris – Aw shucks, and back at you. Wishing you a merry Christmas and many writing gifts in ’19!
Escape. 2018 was a very bad year for me for various reasons and writing was my escape from…2018 things. Every time I was about to get overwhelmed by current events I could hide in 1920s Iceland.
Also, as Keith mentions above, community! A few years ago I stopped using Twitter, because I didn’t see the point. Last year I reactivated it and now 90% of my feed are writers and book bloggers. Suddenly Twitter is no longer “I suppose I should be doing it”, but “yay, people who understand me”!
Greetings everyone and thank you for your post, Vaughn!
Hey Bjorn – Ah, escape. Wonderful addition. Someone once bemoaned an epic fantasy I’ve long loved as a reader as “mere escapism.” I just shook my head in disbelief. Not because this particular story is terrifically applicable to today’s world, but because… What the hell’s wrong with escapism? Your point is well-taken. I think we can both make the case that escapism is vital to the wellbeing of most every human being, at some point or another (if not more often).
Season’s greetings to you from across the pond. I’m very glad you found your way to WU, and into the arms of the generous embrace of the broader writing community. Wishing you the best for the year to come!
Recently I came across a Facebook thread in which quite a few writers were discussing giving up on writing. Many commented on finding it impossible to make a living in a glutted marketplace, feeling a lack of respect in this profit driven world, getting discouraged by low readership, and so on. Of course, these are all valid concerns–but they are not the full story, thank goodness.
Thank you for this post, Vaughn. It is a reminder of the deeper benefits to be gained by choosing the writing life. I’ll take your woo-woo every time.
Merry Christmas to you and your entire family!
Hey S.K. – I suppose the one good thing about quitting is finding out that you can’t. (I know. I’ve tried. ;) The realization sort of provides the mortar for the certitude that we eventually build up.
So glad to hear you’re with me and Susan on being willing to go down the woo-woo trail. Merry Christmas to you, my friend. Thanks for your steadfast insight to and enhancement of the conversation here on WU. Wishing you a bevy of writerly gifts in the year to come!
Vaughn, I’ll roller-skate with Keith here as well, and give thanks for the writing community at large, and the large-hearted writing community at WU in specific. So many folks are such stalwarts here, smart and generous and kind. Better than lollipops, and few things are.
Aside from that, I’m grateful for punctuation marks; otherwise, my sentences would be tangled garden hoses of kink and crime. Happy holidays to you, maestro.
Hey Tom – I can think of no finer way to punctuate this post than your kind and unkinked sentiments. That includes a lollipop, and that’s saying a lot.
Thanks, and happy skating! Wishing you happy holidays and blissful days filled with non-tangly sentences in ’19.
Wonderful post! Thanks for the reminders.
Thanks, Kathleen! Happy holidays, and best wishes for the new year to you.
For Australian and SA readers of this blog, it’s light evenings and sunny, hot weather! No time to take stock, gotta get the steaks on the barbie!
Good point, David. And now I’m hungry for steak on the grill!
Happy holidays to you. Thank you for reading and for your comments in ’18.
I’m really appreciating the gift of this post and all the comments today. The WU community is as nourishing as ever, and I’m grateful.
I’ve got to put in a vote for the woo-woo angle: late this year, I came to the conclusion that my main WIP needed a healthy rest. I was diligently applying the stick-to-it-ive-ness, but it was getting rather…dehydrated, let’s say. I’d been feeling for a while that my work was lacking a certain level of small “s” spirituality, so now I’m having fun thinking about and exploring what that may mean going forward–not on the WIP yet, but in general, possibly on a future project. (Maybe this falls into the categories of Broadening Outlook and Certitude…?) I tend to like planning and being organized, but this year I am giving thanks for the gift of beginning the new year with an energizing sense of mystery: where is this going? I don’t know–isn’t that great?
Happy holidays to you and to everyone here–may the new year bring you marvelous mysteries!
Hey Alisha – I say good for you! Feeling something like that, and knowing that it’s got to do with a missing level of spirituality, is something that many would dismiss rather than explore. And such exploration takes time. It just does. And it’s important not to limit yourself. So I say you can add Susan’s self-respect to your list of gifts received. You’ve recognized what’s needed, and given it to yourself.
I agree, that mystery, that sense of the unknown – it’s wonderful. Perhaps the writing life’s greatest gift of all. Happy holidays, my friend. Wishing you a new year chock-full of energizing wonder and other writerly gifts!
Loved this blog! Other gifts writers receive are joy when someone who has read our book says they enjoyed it and look forward to the next. Writers are gifted with satisfaction of a job completed. I ruin writer’s are gifted with a small glimpse of what it must be like to be a creator of places and people. We’re gifted with surprise when our characters take a different turn than what expected. I’ve never thought of writing in terms of the gifts it gives. Thank you for the insight!
Hi Delphine – Don’t you love it when the unexpected happens as we go? And it’s weird how often it makes more sense than what we may have had planned, doesn’t it? You’re right, those things are truly gifts.
Thanks for weighing in. Happy holidays!
Great post, Vaughn. It’s easy to fall into the habit of listing the things we haven’t accomplished. I like your list much better! I would also include the knowledge that we writers are at least trying to achieve our dreams. We are doing the thing we love and finding community in doing so. On days things aren’t going so well, I find comfort in knowing that I’m chasing my dream and giving it everything I’ve got. I don’t always succeed, but not everyone is brave enough to try.
Hey Julie – Oh how I love this comment. Yes, it’s heartening just to know we’re doing our best. That inner belief is very satisfying to the soul. And, for me, it provides a sort of quiet inner peace, even on a day-to-day level. I feel it on the evenings after the days when I know I’ve sat and opened the doc, and earnestly gave it my all. (And conversely, I know the restlessness of knowing I could’ve done better, or even a bit of turmoil over knowing I’ve wasted time on less important things.)
Thanks for the great addition – so insightful and useful. Wishing you a lovely holiday season, and many writerly gifts in the new year.
Not only a great list, but really profound thoughts as well.
Thanks for the Christmas gift.
Christopher, your kind words are a gift in turn. Thanks much, and happiest of holidays to you.