Getting off the Hamster Wheel
By Guest | January 16, 2022 |
Please welcome author and mentor Katey Schultz to WU today! Katey is the author of Flashes of War, which the Daily Beast praised as an “ambitious and fearless” collection, and Still Come Home, a novel, both published by Loyola University Maryland. Honors for her work include North Carolina’s Sir Walter Raleigh Award for Fiction, the Linda Flowers Literary Award, Doris Betts Fiction Prize, Foreword INDIES Book of the Year award, gold and silver medals from the Military Writers Society of America, the Chicago Writers Association Book of the Year award, five Pushcart nominations, a nomination to Best American Short Stories, National Indies Excellence recognition, and writing fellowships in eight states. Katie is the founder of Maximum Impact, a transformative mentoring service for creative writers that has been recognized by both CNBC and the What Works Network. Learn more at KateySchultz.com.
Getting off the Hamster Wheel
When I was in grad school, I had the luxury of communicating with my advisors every month about craft concerns. When I hit the road for writing residencies and fellowships following graduation, the majority of my support came from mature authors, also in residence. If questions about deep revision or the creative process arose, I usually found an answer just one studio over, and often from someone with the word bestseller in their bio.
Depending on others for advice about my next move on the page was good for me, at the time. I had so many other craft issues to deal with that I had to relinquish some of the biggies to the experts. But this dependency wasn’t sustainable and, furthermore, it wasn’t teaching me to be a better writer on my own. Sure, I could sign up for a workshop or attend a conference, but at the end of the day, I still had to face my own drafts and know what to do and how to do it. At a certain point, other people’s suggestions started to suffocate my sense of joy and turned writing into a checklist of feedback applied, and tools used. I’d “made changes” and “fixed stuff” but my writing also felt…well…dead. Where was the sense of discovery? That feeling that what I had to say, mattered?
I needed a way to get off the hamster wheel of leaning on others for feedback and find confidence and discernment in my own process. And I needed to be able to do this not just for one story, one essay, or one manuscript…but for the rest of my writing life.
Name it
Learning how to coach myself is what finally got me off that hamster wheel, and it took almost a decade for me to leap. Where did I land? In a place of confidence and discernment as a writer, with a deep creative practice that could contain both generative bursts and literary restlessness, all while meeting my goals. How? By identifying the invisible, decision-making moments of my creative processes and applying a unique set of reflections and craft skills to help me determine my own, best, next move.
You might be wondering: If it’s invisible, how did I fix it? The answer is something every writer can relate to. We can fix something only after we’ve named it. Naming things, after all, is what we do. But it’s not just for our stories and essays, it’s for our internal creative processes, too. When we start to apply thinking to language and apply reflection exercises to our own creativity, we can more expediently discern what to do next on the page, and why. We know how and why stories come to us, and we understand our blind spots. Rather than messing with the muse, we work with what it gives us (knowing our handicaps) and thrive on revising with real stakes and authenticity. All of this translates immediately into confidence, and when you put confidence and discernment together, what do you get? Momentum.
Be your own best editor
Now, when I sit down to write, it’s just me (imperfect), my motivation (inconsistent), and my foundation (unshakable). When I run into craft concerns, rather than shoot an email to a friend or give up, if I can coach myself by naming the challenge, then reflecting on the decisions I made that brought me to that point. If I can name the decisions, I can then question them, which allows a space for a different decision–perhaps a more effective one–to arise. From there, I can write my way forward and see how this slight pivot feels. If I still don’t feel clear, I know how to leave cues for myself on the page and write past the trouble spot, trusting that I have tools for returning to it later. I don’t have to solve the challenge or make every word perfect before moving on, because I’ve learned to trust that clarity comes in waves.
But if we stop writing, or if we think we can’t solve problems without a workshop or a conference, we’ll never experience that deeply private, deeply impactful, sense of momentum. We’ll never coach ourselves.
This kind of work is invisible to our readers and publishers, and that’s fine. They read for entertainment and discovery, which is what we want. They don’t need to be able to see the micro-decisions we make along the way. But we need to be able to see them.
That’s why being coached in how to coach ourselves is an absolute must when it comes to successfully writing for the long haul. It empowers us to become better writers on our own…not just for one project, but for every project.
In more concrete terms, that looks like this:
How much backstory is too much?
Problem: As a writer, I wonder, how much backstory is too much? Maybe I need to stop what I’m writing now and figure this out. But how do I figure it out?
Solution: I have taught myself to pause and take a deep breath in these moments, leaning into the question by asking more questions. This is difficult–we’re not conditioned to get close to the unknown and very few writing workshops teach writers what they actually need to be asking of themselves during these critical, all-too-elusive moments. For instance, I ask myself, What does my character desire, in this moment? How do I know that? Does the reader know that? If not, what object, obstacle, action, or reaction can I add to the page that will make this known? Sometimes, privately reflecting on these questions or freewriting answers to them in a notebook constitutes the end of the writing session for that day and I move on (to do dishes, pick up kids, clock in at work, mow the lawn). Other times, it is the beginning of five new pages.
Or,
How do I keep my reader from getting disoriented?
Problem: As a writer, I wonder, how far afield can I go from my present narrative before the reader gets disoriented? And how long can a flashback be, anyway? Maybe I’ve gone too far. Some of this page isn’t even in a specific bracket of time. Am I allowed to do that?
Solution: I make a map of my own story, tracing the narrative and its undercurrents, flashbacks, flash-forwards, and eddies. Sometimes I simply stare at my structure map, consider how it looks and feels, contemplate the balance of scene and summary, then…go to bed. But the next time I open that document, I have the answer to my question about how far afield I can go. I’ll either adjust a structural component, or I’ll keep going forward through time. In either case, I’ve coached myself through this challenge and can skip the workshop hamster wheel and meet my own goals, with confidence.
Show up and do the work
I’ll always have and need my good writing friends. I’ll always study the work of others to see what I can learn. And at some point in every manuscript, I’ll want to hand it over to a trusted reader for their response. But I’ll also always have to be able to write alone and coach myself from one page to the next. Finally, after a good bit of training, I can really say that I am my own best coach and guide through this process.
Above all else, I’m able to write. Simply. Without excuse or obstruction. The only requirement is that I show up and do the work. What do I wake up eager to do most mornings? Exactly that.
How are you your own best coach and your own best editor? Where do you still need help? We’d love to hear from you in comments.
Many thanks to today’s guest.
You can read more WU guest posts by visiting this link.
Excellent advice, Katey — this idea is going straight into my Recommended Posts file.
We all need to hear this, again and again. It’s too easy to run around in circles about our writing, instead of taking that deep breath and just looking at where we could be off. And believing in ourselves and our own growth, instead of just the process of shopping every problem around.
I hope we see more of you here on Unboxed. Thank you.
Ken, thank you SO much for your support and for sharing the fact that my words resonated with you. What are you working on and when has getting “off the hamster wheel” benefitted you in the past? I’d love to connect. I’m hesitant to post my full email address online (lest the bots take it and spam me) but you can find me here and maybe we can keep the conversation going: https://kateyschultz.com/contact/
I’m glad you added the last paragraph. I, too, will always need my writing buds. I like the premise of this piece–that we needn’t become dependent upon others and their opinions for every little thing. I’ve finally come to a point where I listen carefully to all critiques–do not try to defend or dismiss or resist–then return to the computer to ponder and/or try out their ideas. Have learned to dismiss the suggestions that don’t work and not look back.
I’m smiling because that last paragraph was definitely NOT an afterthought. It’s real–our need for writing buds–and thanks for backing me up on that. I’m curious, what does “ponder” look like for you, when you return to the desk after a critique? In other words, how do you find discernment?
I agree. I knew from the beginning that my access to help was both limited and remote and therefore not available each time I had a question. I also knew that, at the end of the day, I wanted to learn in a way that enabled me to make decisions because I knew the answers, not because I was checking off boxes. That’s required years of commitment to learning, but more so doing for myself, experimenting, and often learning the hard way. Returning to a WIP and discovering that each time I better know the answer to what’s needed without having to struggle with the decision brings with it a tremendous amount of confidence, growth, and satisfaction.
Christina–your reply is SO well-articulated. Thank you for bringing words to this. The word “commitment” stands out to em, for sure, but also the word “discovering.” So much of what a writer does is invisible–those impossible decisions we make again and again, that sometimes we are even blind to ourselves. I try to teach writers how to see, name, and work with those decisions in my Mentorship program. I really believe that breaks the dependency. So far, it works! I’d love to learn more about your WIP if you’re up for sharing.
Thanks for writing about your process. It feels so comfortably familiar.
Whenever I solve a new problem, I seem to have to get it clear enough to blog about before I can tame it.
The good part is that those blog posts form a history of both problems and solutions.
The bad part is that the process: identify, thrash around a lot, figure out something, find the best something, distill into a graphic, write the post, fix the problem, rinse, repeat – can take a while. But it’s never around, always through.
I’m an autodidact due to illness, but after all these years have become pretty adept at writing it out until I figure it out.
And I wasn’t making any progress anyway, when I have to stop and learn another skill, because I’m an odd duck: one finished polished scene at a time (in an extremely plotted WIP), and no going around it. It may not be the best way, but it works for me.
Chuckling: completely different path, and we end up at a very similar process.
Oh, and I write mainstream fiction as an SPA. Very slowly.
Alicia–Thank YOU for validating it! I’m glad it’s familiar to you. So much of what we do is invisible; hard to name. It’s affirming to know that others experience their own versions, too. What is your blog URL and current project? And what does “writing it out until I figure it out” look like for you? I often say “fake it till you make it” and maybe that’s similar, lol. And here’s to being S-L-O-W. I’d love to connect if you feel like emailing.
I would love to connect. I’m at abehrhardt at gmail.
Blogs:
https://liebjabberings.wordpress.com/ (writing et al)
https://prideschildren.com/ (for the novel trilogy wip)
The current project is a ‘big book’ – mainstream – Pride’s Children PURGATORY is out, I’m almost finished with NETHERWORLD (early this year), and have LIMBO&PARADISE as a placeholder for the final volume.
I can’t keep much in brain at a time (long story), so instead of having questions circling the drain inside, I write as many as I can think of down, and have a LOT of prompts, and find that after I gather enough of these bits I start seeing a path through each scene – and I can channel the character through it. I write very deep multiple third person, so you get to live as three different people.
Whom one of my reviewers said, “…characters whom one comes to know, ((dare I say this?)) rather better than one knows one’s spouse, or significant other. She does this better than any other author I have yet read…” (used with permission) He’s very kind.
I love new writer friends –
Loved this post, Katey. In my desire to write my best, I have listened to many voices, too many voices. This sometimes causes a writer to lose her way, to wander. The story is ONE STORY in my mind, so it’s time I let it land on the page and not be concerned about others saying, try this or try that. Thank you.
Eliza–I am a HUGE fan of creating our OWN definitions of success. And you’re absolutely right–if we listen to too many others, we will lose our way. I’m so glad you found your way. I’d love to hear more about your current project, challenges, and what success looks like to you?
Katey, what a fascinating look into your process. I discovered long ago, as a child, really, that I learn best by teaching and over the years have mentored many students in different areas. But I, too, had to teach myself to trust what I’d learned over the previous decade and learn to be my own best editor when we moved to SC. Over the past 5 years I’ve been mentoring new writers and it’s been so lovely to build a writing community right where I live. Win-win.
So glad to “meet” you here, sister-writer-mentor! I just got back from 10 days in SC — Greenville and Folly. I’d love to connect more if you’re up for emailing me! Do you have a website I can explore?
Katey, thanks for reaffirming to me that writing is a complex yet simple process, and if I do the work( editing, rewriting, sitting down to write) and trust the process, I will have a great story at the end.
Janet, “complex yet simple” pretty much sums it up. Thank you for putting it that way; it’s helpful for me to hear things reflected back like that. “Trust the process” works wonders, but I confess that the core teaching of my Mentorship program actually has to do with dissecting that trust a bit and naming what we’re doing in our process so it’s less of a mystery and more of something we can work with, expand, and refine. What’s your current project?
Good lord, I love this, Katey. Ultimately every author has to take ownership of her own writing and career, and while as an editor I’m a huge believer in how beneficial outside help can be, these are also essential core skills of a writing career–and how we grow as artists, as you point out. I always say that hiring an editor or coach isn’t a necessity for every story, not an automatic part of the writing routine. Just like we call a doctor when we have an issue that we can’t adequately address on our own, but our everyday health care and maintenance is our own responsibility, I think being a writer means learning these skills, solving these problems, exploring ways to do our own troubleshooting and developing and growing in our writing–and you call in a pro when a certain project may exceed your current ability to address them on your own. Terrific post–thanks for sharing.
You are quite welcome, Tiffany, and thank YOU for echoing back and summarizing this message. It helps me! Where can I learn more about your work? Sounds like we have a lot in common. Reach out by email if you prefer (I’m better with that, than comments or form fills). Glad to connec! ~Katey