In January of this year, I began participating in a 10-month novel-writing class at the Visual Arts Center of Richmond. Our last class meeting took place last Wednesday. Today, not going to class will feel a little strange. It’s weird–to not go somewhere you’ve been going once a week–every week–for almost a year. The commute to class, the class itself, the commute home–all became a sort of ritual, a routine. More than that, it was how I knew it was Wednesday.
Last week, both my husband and my mom asked me how I felt about the impending end of my writing class. A little sad, really–but also ready. The experience more than served its purpose. I wrote the rough draft of a manuscript of which I wouldn’t have written even three chapters without the class, which provided me with the space, structure, discipline, tools, support, and motivation to do what I needed to do: Write.
In the spirit of Thanksgiving: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You are the reason I can say I have completed the rough drafts of not one, but two, manuscripts. You are the reason I can say I found the discipline and motivation to sit down and write. You believed in me, so I believed in myself.
In November 2016, inspired by NaNoWriMo, I wrote less than 1000 words before other priorities took precedence and my motivation to finish fizzled. The passage I share here was all I had completed of the manuscript until I started the novel-writing class in January 2018. Now, two years later, that passage has been butchered, redistributed, and repurposed in various ways, in what has matured into a 70,000-word manuscript for a novel–one that never would have been written had it not been for my instructor and classmates at VisArts. And so, then, in the spirit of Thanksgiving, I have to say: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You are the reason I can say I have completed the rough drafts of not one, but two, manuscripts. You are the reason I can say I found the discipline and motivation to sit down and write. You believed in me, so I believed in myself.
But I didn’t just finish my manuscript (as if that weren’t enough!). I also met some really talented, supportive writers, one of whom invited me to work with her as co-chair for the James River Writers 2019 Writing Show, an opportunity that means soon, I am going to meet even more exceptional writers. And editors. And agents. And publishers. And and and. I also learned all kinds of valuable information and tools, ranging from obligatory scenes (So helpful! Our instructor is a genius.) to best bad choices. I also got to eat some delectable homemade cake baked by our instructor’s wife, and read a book I never would’ve: Salt to the Sea, by Rupta Septey. Basically, I got more out of this class than I ever imagined I would, from a finished rough draft, to improved writing skills, to deeper insights on writing and reading–and then some cake.
Though the end of our class was bittersweet (sweet because, you know–cake), I certainly have no regrets. I completed a manuscript (albeit rough). I met inspiring, creative people. I learned a ton. I get to continue working with one of my fellow writers going forward into the new year. I read a book. I ate cake. And now I’ll take a step back from the piece I just (pseudo) finished (piece being of writing, not of cake; I finished my entire piece of cake…), and start trying to revise (again) my first manuscript, which needs some serious TLC after being neglected during the writing of the one I just finished.
Writing a novel isn’t a piece of cake, but eating a piece of cake with classmates in celebration of having written one–that’s pretty sweet.
I should’ve known everything was going to fall into place when, Friday morning, my dryer finished drying my clothes at the same instant I unlocked my back door to leave for the Master Classes I’d registered for as part of this year’s James River Writers Annual Conference. (I don’t like the washer or dryer running when I’m not home.)
The James River, viewed here from Floodwall Park, is still high from the rain produced by Tropical Storm Matthew.
The James River, which gives the James River Writers its name, is still swollen today from Tropical Storm Matthew.
Actually, my first sign that the universe is in harmony came about a week earlier. When I registered for the conference back in September, one of the two Master Classes I wanted to attend (like, really, really wanted to attend) was full. Just a few days before the conference, though, I got an e-mail informing me a space had opened up, my refund hadn’t yet been processed, and I could attend the class after all. It was perfectly serendipitous.
I attended both of the Master Classes I had hoped to attend on Friday, and went home, thinking no more about it.
As with the Friday Master Class I had wanted to attend, every single literary agent with whom I had hoped to meet had been completely booked. My first stop upon arriving at the conference Saturday morning was the pitch table, where I wanted to add my name to a waiting list to pitch to an agent at some point during the weekend. I was hoping for a particular agent, but I was willing to meet with any agent who might have an opening, so long as I got to meet an agent and practice my pitch.
“Which agent’s waiting list do you want to be on?” the man behind the table asked me.
I hadn’t even finished saying her name before the woman behind me jumped to my side.
“Well this might help you out,” she said, and then turned to the man. “I’m actually here to cancel my 2:10 appointment with that same agent.”
And voila! Just like that, I had my spot.
“Get over the idea that other writers are your competition. All writers are your tribe.” —Laurie Gwen Shapiro
I should probably also mention that this particular agent was the same agent presenting at the Master Class that had originally been full, but in which a slot had seemingly magically opened up for me at the last minute. That was the same class during which I sat beside a man who happened to have the 2:00 appointment with the same agent with whom I had a 2:10 appointment the following day. When I sat down in the seat he had just vacated, I noticed he’d dropped something important. I picked it up, and what are the chances I would run into him in his car in the parking garage, pulling out of his spot at the exact instant I pulled past? I was able to get his attention and return his lost belonging.
To top it all off, driving home, I hit all but the last two lights on Broad Street, green. That. Never. Happens. In fact, it was the green-light experience on Broad Street that got me reflecting on all the other pleasant coincidences I’d experienced since the conference’s beginning the day before.
That night, I experienced another coincidence, though this one belonged to someone else. My husband and I attended a good friend’s (also a writer) wedding, where we met the best man, whose name was Ryan. His girlfriend’s name? Also Ryan. What are the chances of that?
And that brings us to today.
Just as the dryer had finished its cycle right before I left for the day Friday, the eggs I was boiling on the stove top for my dogs (their staple treat isn’t Milkbones, but chunked up hardboiled eggs we call “egg bites”) this morning finished boiling at the exact instant that
I was pulling their leashes from the laundry room so we could take our morning walk. By now, of course, I was used to the universe playing directly into my plans, so I smiled to myself and carried on with my morning.
A few hours later, I found myself back at the conference, with hundreds of other writers. Now, what is the likelihood (and don’t actually tell me, because the math would ruin the magic) that, in a popular plenary session, I would sit down and look up to see that three seats away from me sat a former student of mine? Or that the only other woman who got lost trying to find the restroom in an empty hallway of the Greater Richmond Convention Center would be the wife of a woodworker my husband is dying to take a workshop with, who we’d met at Makers Fest last weekend? Small world, huh?
To top it all off, on my way home from the conference today, I turned on NPR. The Hidden Brain episode I heard promoted a few days ago, made a mental note to listen to, and then forgot the mental note, was airing. The topic? Coincidences.
(Don’t read too much into it.)
All that said, here are some pearls of wisdom from one of my favorite panels, Replenishing Your Creativity Toolkit.
“If it [writing] was easy, everyone would do it. The hard is what makes it good.” —Moe Ferrara
“You don’t get inspiration, really. Your inspiration comes from your dedication. If there is a muse, it’s you.” —Pavana Reddy
“You write. You read. You let others read what you write. That’s what you can control. Keep swinging the bat. You have control over how many times you swing. Even if your batting average is low, if you keep swinging, you’re gonna hit something.” –Lina Maria Ferreira Cabeza-Vanegas
On Creative Space and Process
“You have to be nice to yourself because no one else is going to be. You can’t sit down and tell your brain, ‘Write now or else!'” –Lina Maria Ferreira Cabeza-Vanegas
“If you’re really excited about your ending, write it. It’s probably your beginning.” –Lina Maria Ferreira Cabeza-Vanegas
“Write every day. There is no inspiration. You are the muse.” –Pavana Reddy
And one more pearl of wisdom from another favorite panel, Think Like a Word Entrepreneur:
On Writing Community
“Get over the idea that other writers are your competition. All writers are your tribe.”—Laurie Gwen Shapiro
Writing is an activity that, if one harbors aspirations of publishing, is fraught with rejection and disappointment. To be a writer is to cultivate and maintain a tough skin. Behind every poem, essay, or article I’ve had published, stand several dozen orphaned pieces of writing still searching for their publishing home. So why do we keep trying? We keep writing, of course, because we love it or we are compelled to do it or both. But how do we maintain our enthusiasm about publishing anything, with the competition so stiff and the chances so low? The answer is simple: faith.
Behind every poem, essay, or article I’ve had published, stand several dozen orphaned pieces of writing still searching for their publishing home.
Recently, I had three different faith-full experiences that I can draw on during my moments of self-doubt.
The first occurred at a friend’s house over the summer. One of my friends mentioned in passing that I was writing a novel, and her mother, who was visiting from out-of-state, looked at me wide-eyed. “You’re writing a novel?” she said in awe.
Before I could answer, my other friend chimed in. “It’s gonna be so good,” he said, nodding and smiling where he sat on the couch.
That was all I needed–a vote of confidence from friends, even just in passing. Just writing about the memory, the experience of which lasted maybe fifteen seconds, produces a lasting sense of optimism.
“It’s all self-belief. That’s all it is. That’s all it takes.”
Several weeks before the incident at my friend’s house, I shared the first few chapters of my novel with my grandparents, both avid readers. When they called me with their critique, full of constructive criticism, my grandpa said he thought the book could inspire a cult following. Of course, grandparents should always have encouraging words for their grandchildren, but his praise was so specific, and his criticisms so insightful, that I believed in his belief in me–and my writing.
Finally, several instances that have occurred over the last year in my writing class at VisArts have also buoyed my spirits and summoned my muse.
One evening, as the instructor provided feedback on my week’s submission, I noticed he was using phrases like “When you get an agent”–“when,” not “if.” I tend to quantify my aspirations about publishing with “if,” implying I know it might never happen. But to hear someone else–someone who teaches creative writing at the university level–talk about “when” my novel gets published, was extremely reaffirming.
If you don’t believe in yourself, how can you expect others to believe in you?
Another week, my instructor said, “If I’m an agent, this is the chapter that makes me want your book.” In an even more recent class, our instructor gave the entire class this advice about finishing the first draft of our novels: “It’s all self-belief. That’s all it is. That’s all it takes.” He’s right. If you don’t believe in yourself, how can you expect others to believe in you? Still, it helps when others believe in you, too. Their belief buoys yours, whenever you start to have your doubts.
About two weeks ago, my writing instructor told me I could finish the first draft of my novel before the end of our class next month if I committed to writing 500 words a day from here on out. I told him I could do that, and I told myself the same story.
About two weeks ago, my writing instructor told me I could finish the first draft of my novel before the end of our class next month if I committed to writing 500 words a day from here on out. I told him I could do that, and I told myself the same story. September 27 was Day One of that promise to myself. I wrote 940 words that night. I haven’t missed a day yet, and today will mark Day Twelve.
As writers, we like to tell stories. Unfortunately, some of the most frequent stories we tell ourselves are probably about how we don’t have time to write. Or how we’re stuck in a rut, the dreaded writer’s block having taken hold. Or we’re no good at writing. Or we don’t have any ideas worth writing about. The list of stories about why we’re not writing–even though we love to write–is a long one. But these aren’t the stories we have to tell ourselves, and they’re certainly not very fun stories to write (or read). Even when you’re busier than busy, battling writer’s block (or letting it win), feeling insecure, or facing a seeming dearth of ideas, there are lots of things you can do to maintain your cherished identity as a writer, and flex your writing muscles.
Story No. 1: I Don’t Have Time
Once upon a time there was a teacher named Mrs. Creasey (that’s me!). She brought home hours of papers to grade almost every night, trained for half marathons, cared for her dogs, managed her household, volunteered once a week at a local no-kill animal shelter, and worked part-time at a local YMCA to supplement her income. You might imagine that Mrs. Creasey found little time for her writing, and you’d be right; it felt like a leisure activity for which she simply did not have the time–but she wished she did. Despite being so busy, Mrs. Creasey often missed writing, and lamented the months that would pass between even her diary entries. Truly, it was shameful. Fortunately, Mrs. Creasey eventually realized there were lots of ways she could carve out time to make writing a priority, and she still does–to this day.
Get your MFA or MALS
When I realized I was no longer making time for my writing, and how much I ached to do so, I decided the best way to make it a priority in my schedule was to get my graduate degree. If I had money wrapped up in it, and homework to do–I would make time. And I did. Earning my graduate degree in creative writing forced me to make time for writing in my busy life–and I was happy to do so. My writing became an obligation, and one I was glad to assume. No one–including myself–questioned me when I said I had homework, so I gladly made time to sit down and write the poetry, personal essays, creative nonfiction pieces, and short stories assigned to me. As an added bonus, my income slightly increased once I completed the degree.
My writing became an obligation, and one I was glad to assume. No one–including myself–questioned me when I said I had homework, so I gladly made time to sit down and write the poetry, personal essays, creative nonfiction pieces, and short stories assigned to me.
Take a Class or Workshop
If earning your degree seems too big a commitment, you might consider something a bit less demanding, like a single class or a workshop, which can yield some of the same benefits. Participating in a class or workshop provides you with a structure in which to write. If your daily schedule seems to make carving out writing time difficult, taking a class or workshop gives you the peace of mind of knowing that on Tuesday nights from 7:00-9:00 (or whenever your class/workshop takes place), you will be able to dedicate two (or however many) glorious hours to your craft.
It’s amazing what you can find time for if you’re getting paid to do it and you love to do it. One way to make yourself make time for writing is to find a way to get paid for it. Check out platforms like Contently, subscribe to (and read) the Freedom with Writing e-mails, contact your local newspapers, network with other writers, take a class on freelance writing… There are lots of ways to make a little (or a lot of) money with your writing.
Story No. 2: I have Writer’s Block
In a land far, far away, there was a writer who couldn’t write. She had ideas–lots of them, but putting them into words–turning them into stories or poems or books–was a task that seemed impossible. She begged her muse to help her, but her muse seemed to have been on vacation for a long time. A very, very long time. Eventually, she realized that she was going to have to write–muse or no muse. And she tried some of the tactics below.
One way to write even when your muse seems to have deserted you is to keep a diary or journal. Don’t burden your entries with purpose or expectation–just write about your thoughts, feelings, or day.
Attend a Conference
Attending a conference can have a way of summoning your muse right back from wherever she has been hiding. Some of the most inspiring events I have attended include those put on by the Poetry Society of Virginia, and the James River Writers Annual Conference.
Once upon a time there was a woman named Jane Doe (I know–not very original). She used to write, but over the years, the practice had simply slipped from her routine, and though she sometimes thought about picking it back up, she didn’t really think she was that good at it, anyway. She had taken some writing classes in college, but mostly, her classmates and instructors focused on how she could improve, and while that was helpful, it also made her feel like maybe she wasn’t cut out to be a writer after all. Nowadays, her writing was confined to e-mails and memos at work. But a small part of her still missed writing–stories and poems and personal essays. If only she were good at it…
Make Creative Friends
Making creative friends is a great way to nurture your own creativity. Fellow creatives can support you, point out what’s good in your work, and give you feedback to inspire your progress. You can also share your work with each other. Surrounding yourself with people who believe in you is a surefire way to make yourself feel more valid in your craft.
Another way to prove to yourself that you are, indeed, a “good writer” is to submit your work to journals, contests, and publications. Admittedly, this practice also opens you up to significant risk, but it gets your name out there and helps you feel validated. Plus, the recognition you earn when a piece is published or wins an award is rewarding, to say the least. And even if you meet with rejection at first (or often), I find that having work out there gives me hope. The more pieces I send out to publications, the higher their chances of finding a publication home (in my mind, anyway). I like the feeling of my work floating around out there. I like the anticipation. The fact that I have writing to send out means, at least, I am writing.
Story No. 4: I don’t have any Good Ideas
Once upon a time, there was a teacher named Mrs. Creasey (that’s me again!), who had a sticker on her classroom door so she would see it every single morning when she unlocked the door to go to work. It read: “And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt” (Sylvia Plath). Mrs. Creasey loved this quote–for her students and for herself. Another of her favorites? “It’s not what you write about, but how you write it.” Both of these quotes hold true for anyone who wants to write. You can write–you have the ideas. You just have to, ya know, do it.
“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” –Sylvia Plath
If you seem to be suffering from a dearth of ideas, take a notebook with you everywhere and write things down. Write anything and everything down. All your observations are fodder for future pieces. Notate your observations in nature, things you hear or overhear, ideas you have, questions you have, names you like…
Story No. 5: No One Wants to Read What I Write, Anyway
Once upon a time, there was a writer who loved to write, and who wrote all the time–but who often felt discouraged because he was certain that despite his best efforts, no one actually wanted to read what he wrote–even if it was really, really good. It seemed no one cared. And besides–writing isn’t like a painting or a photograph or a sculpture, easy to display and share. It requires some effort on the reader’s part, some willingness to invest time, energy, and thought in the piece. Who was going to do that when they could simply watch TV, play games on their smart phone, go to the movies, or do any number of easier activities?
Start a Blog
One way to combat the sense that no one is interested in your writing is to start a blog. At least a few people will read it, and that’s nice. Plus, maintaining a blog can help hold you accountable to your writing. Knowing you have even a small audience who might be waiting for your next post can be motivation to write the next post. Besides, it feels empowering and validating to have an online presence, albeit a small one.
Use Social Media
Using social media outlets such as Facebook or Instagram can help grow your audience for your blog–or any other writing you do. Just be careful not to allow your social media accounts to steal time away from your actual writing.
And They Lived Happily Ever After…
While the above advice is nice, and can prove productive if you need a pick-me-up or a way back into writing after a hiatus or a blow to your confidence, the most important thing you can do for writing is actually write. It will be a struggle sometimes, but nothing worth doing is every easy (at least not all the time).
Earlier this month, I posted a piece about what to consider when you prepare to submit your writing to literary magazines and/or writing contests. Now, let’s focus on considerations you should make depending on the type of writing you do.
Rules of Thumb
Before we break down what to do when submitting poetry versus prose, there are some general rules of thumb to follow for any genre. The following tips come to you from Dana Isokawa, Associate Editor of Poets & Writers Magazine. In April, I was fortunate enough to attend a workshop she led in Richmond. She provided some really helpful advice.
Research your opportunities. Figure out what publications or contests are out there, and which might be the best fit for your work. After you’ve done that, tier your top choices and start high! When you applied to college, you likely applied to a dream school or a reach school, as well as several backup schools. When you submit your writing, you can use the same principle. First, submit to your absolute top choice contest or publication, but have some second and third choices in your back pocket.
Keep track of your submissions. Some publications allow simultaneous submissions. Some don’t. Even those who do will likely request that you let them know if your work is accepted elsewhere. For these reasons, and others, it’s important to keep records of where you’ve sent your work, and whether or not it was accepted.
Decide on a budget for each piece. What are you willing to spend on submissions in total, and on each individual piece?
Compose a cover letter. Keep it short, and be specific to each publication or contest. If you’re submitting to a journal or magazine, you will also want to devote one or two sentences to explaining why your work is a good fit for the magazine.
For most journals or contests, select three to five poems of various tones, lengths, and topics. Some journals and contests require a specific number of submissions, or cap the number of submission you may send, so be sure to read the submission guidelines carefully.
When you submit a batch of poetry, think of it as a whole, and organize your submission wisely, with your best work at the beginning. Think of your first poem as the hook that will get the reader’s attention, and entice her to read more.
Before submitting a short story to a contest or publication, make sure it features a strong beginning, or hook. A strong start is absolutely critical, as you’ll need to get and keep your reader’s attention. After all, she likely has a stack of other stories waiting for her time and focus. Ms. Isokawa suggests two effective ways to craft a strong start: Begin with action, or write with really strong voice.
When you submit a novel excerpt, your chosen piece should be able to stand alone. A flashback or decision scene might work well. You can also consider adapting an excerpt of your larger work by taking out references to parts the reader won’t get to read.
Should you be fortunate enough to find a publication home for your work or for your work to be honored with an award, be sure to thank the editors, and share the journal, publication, or contest on social media. They’re helping promote you; help promote them.
If your work is not accepted, you might still be lucky enough to get a rejection with feedback. If an editor is kind enough to provide any feedback at all, say thank you–don’t ask for more feedback.
If you ever resubmit to a publication that has previously rejected but offered feedback on your work, be sure to mention their note with your new or revised submission.
Don’t allow rejection to discourage you. Try again. Even the most celebrated writers have dealt with rejection, and many still do. To help combat the temptation to give up, always have a piece of writing “in waiting” or “on deck,” one you can send out to contests and publications as soon as its predecessor gets rejected.
Back in April, I attended a submissions workshop put on by the James River Writers and led by Dana Isokawa, Associate Editor of Poets & Writers Magazine. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that being in the same room as Ms. Isokawa was a pretty surreal privilege, but I probably do need to tell you what I learned, which why I’m writing this blog post, as well as a follow-up later this month.
Submitting your writing–particularly your poetry, which can be deeply personal and painstakingly crafted–is scary, to say the least. You’re sending your work (AKA your soul) out into the world for all to see, and it’s probably going to get ignored (best-case rejection scenario) or bludgeoned (worst-case rejection scenario) for years before it ever finds its publication home (if it ever finds its publication home). Despite the vulnerability submitting your writing entails, there are many compelling reasons to put on your big-girl pants and start submitting. Here are a few:
Submitting your work helps get your work and your name out there.
Submitting your writing helps it–and you–find an audience, and once you find one, you can work to keep it.
Sending your writing out into the world, while it may open it up to abuse, is also one of the best ways to support your writing. You’re putting your stamp of approval–your faith–in its merit, and if you don’t believe in it, who will?
One of the most effective ways to network and build a writing community is through sending your work off.
Submitting your work such as poetry, essays, short stories, or articles can help lead to the accomplishment of larger publishing goals you may set–such as a book deal.
Sending your writing to contests, journals, and magazines can help motivate you to write, revise, and keep writing. Contest and submission deadlines, as well as the sense of validation you’ll feel when one of your pieces does get accepted, are excellent motivators.
Knowing When a Piece is Ready
Okay, so maybe I’ve convinced you of the worth of risking not only your ego, but also your sense of identity as a writer, in submitting your writing to publications. But how do you know when a piece is polished enough for potential publication? Here are some signs:
It has successfully undergone an editorial review
Other people–readers and fellow writers alike–have read it and liked it
You have set it aside for a while and you like it when you reread it–you impress yourself
Your sure your own skin is thick enough to handle potential rejection
You’re ready to share and prepared to have people read and react to it.
Finding the Right Journal or Contest for Your Writing
You can increase your chances of acceptance and decrease your chances of rejection by finding the right home for your writing before you send it off to knock on journal doors. Instead of just sending your writing off blindly, do some research first, and find the publications most likely to welcome your writing inside. Here are some things to keep in mind:
Know the publication. Be familiar with its style, layout/organization, types of work it tends to publish, sections, etc. Read it. Be familiar with its tone, voice, and subject matter. Make sure the work you plan to send aligns with these qualities in the publication.
Know your own genre, form, style, voice, and subject matter. Do they align?
Consider your background as a writer and a person. Think about factors like your location, your career, or your religion, for example.
Look for publications that focus on specific themes or styles. For example, journals that focus on a certain place, on nature, on conservation, on sports or a particular sport, etc.
Consider your subject matter.
Submit to publications where you find writers you admire.
Consider your form (flash fiction, short story, poetry, long-form essay, etc.).
Consider your genre (sci-fi, speculative romance, crime, etc.).
Vetting Journals and Contests
While you may be eager for the sense of recognition, validation, and success an acceptance provides, don’t be so over-zealous that you miss important red flags. It’s best to avoid sending your work off if:
The contest of publication requires you to pay a high fee to submit your work
A high fee is required–and paired with comparatively low-value prize or award
The fee is over $10 and the contest of publication offers no payment
The contest or publication has no “about page” or masthead.
If the publications you are considering pass the above tests, there are still a few items to consider. Make sure, for example, that the promised prize is actually awarded consistently by checking past winners’ page.
While there are red lights, there are also green lights that should encourage your submission to a given publication. Here are a few:
Your read the publication and like it.
You admire the work it offers.
It promotes its writers.
Its entry fees for novels cost more than those for poems.
There is not more than a $10-$20 fee for prize of $1000 or more.
If you are submitting a book or manuscript, a $40 fee or less for a prize up to $10,000 is appropriate.
If all this talk of publiation has you rearing and ready to submit some writing (and I hope it does), The Avocet, an online literary journal of nature poems, is currently and actively seeking submission. See their guidelines and several opportunities below.
Time to share a Summer-themed poem
Please read the guidelines before submitting
Please take a minute to pick a poem of your choice and send it to us.
Please send only one poem, per poet, per season.
Let’s do Summer-themed poetry for The Weekly Avocet.
Writing of her spiritual journey, Mary Baker Eddy explains that she “finds the path less difficult when she has the high goal always before her thoughts, than when she counts her footsteps in endeavoring to reach it. When the destination is desirable, expectation speeds our progress.” Her wise words can be applied not only to a spiritual search for salvation, but also to our writing goals. The guidance supplied in this quote can help us battle writer’s block, discouragement, rejection, and the temptation to quit, born of these ills.
My confidence is a pendulum constantly swinging between two extremes: doubt and delusions of grandeur.
I find Mrs. Eddy’s words helpful whenever I feel myself succombing to the sense that my project isn’t worthwhile–no agent will want to represent it, no publisher will find it marketable, no reader will want to read it. We all face these insecurities. For me, they are as frequent as their opposites: I am writing the next Great Novel. It will become a best seller and a major motion picture. I have something valuable and worthwhile and unique to say. My confidence is a pendulum constantly swinging between two extremes: doubt and delusions of grandeur. While it’s easy to keep writing when the latter thoughts fill my mind, perseverance in the face of such negative self-talk as the former thoughts proves a bit of a struggle.
But keeping Mrs. Eddy’s words in mind helps. For my writing, the “high goal” right now is seeing my novel published. The “high goal” is the satisfaction of knowing something I wrote is making people think and rethink, question and wonder, read and reread. The “high goal” is inspiring new ideas, even long after I’m gone. One current obstacle to this goal: My novel isn’t even finished. But step one is there: I have set the goal (and started writing the novel).
Instead of letting disheartening thoughts of doubt cloud our thinking, instead of wondering why we even bother, instead of letting the footsteps we must take feel arduous and grueling, rejoice in the fact that you are taking the necessary steps towards reaching that glittering goal, whatever it may be.
Of course, setting a goal alone is no guarantee you’ll achieve it. We do have to take “footsteps in endeavoring to reach it.” I like to ask myself periodically what I have done for my writing recently–what have I done to support my high goal? Here are some possible answers:
asked someone to read something I’ve written and provide feedback
actually written a chapter of my manuscript
taken inspiration from nature
listened to Podcasts or read articles relevant to my topic.
It can be easy to get bogged down in counting these steps, as Mrs. Eddy warns against. But when we find ourselves feeling buried by little things, it truly can be helpful to take a step back and remember the bigger picture, the higher goal. Instead of viewing revision as a chore, or dreading working on your project because you’re in the tight-fisted grip of writer’s block, remember that your “destination is desirable,” and the “expectation of good speeds our progress.” Instead of letting disheartening thoughts of doubt cloud our thinking, instead of wondering why we even bother, instead of letting the footsteps we must take feel arduous and grueling, rejoice in the fact that you are taking the necessary steps towards reaching that glittering goal, whatever it may be. Remember that each revision, each belabored chapter rewrite, each late night writing and rewriting–they are all part of the process. Instead of dwelling on each difficulty, take pride in your progress. As long as you don’t lose sight of where you’re going–as long as you keep the high goal always before your thoughts–each footstep takes you a little closer to where you want to be.
I’ve been reading Arthur Miller’s play The Crucible with high school English students since I first began my teaching career in 2006. I’ve been teaching Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter for almost as long. A few years into my career, I went on a campaign to convince my family that we should spend part of our summer touring around Salem, Massachusetts. I wanted to experience first-hand the place I had been reading about since I myself sat in a high school English classroom studying these works, and I knew I could gather material that would enhance my teaching of the play, the two fascinating and terrifying time periods it explores (the Salem Witch Trials and the McCarthy Era), and the novel. For reasons I don’t remember, the trip didn’t happen, and years went by–but this past summer, my aunt and uncle moved to Cape Cod, and when I visited them in June, they were kind enough to help make my years-long dream of visiting Salem a reality (though it meant about as much time in the car as it did on the streets of Salem!).
But what to do with this information and these photographs? Sure, I could throw the photographs up on the screen and give my students the “My Day in Salem” lecture. I could put the photographs and information into a Power Point, Prezi, or Google Slides presentation. I could print them off and pass them around the room.
But none of this was good enough. None of it even approximated the real thing.
About a month went by, the photos still on my phone, the information still in my head, before I realized that what I really wanted to do was, well, take my students to Salem…
This, of course, was not as realistic as a “My Day in Salem” Power Point. But it would be so much more effective!
So what if I mimicked the experience to the best of my ability…by turning the halls of our high school into the sidewalks and streets of Salem, Massachusetts? I typed an e-mail to my principal, and with her approval and support, set about creating my Salem Scavenger Hunt. With the help of my colleagues, the plan went smoothly this fall. So smoothly, in fact, that two of my colleagues created their own subject-specific scavenger hunts for their classes. This spring, with the help of Erin Ford, our school’s resident technology genius, I’m confident it will go even better. Erin has helped me incorporate technology like augmented reality to enhance the experience and further engage my students. Using the app HP Reality, formerly Aurasma, our scavenger hunt is going to come to life–to approximate an actual visit to Salem as closely as possible.
Throughout our reading of the play and the novel, my students were still referring back to things they had learned in the scavenger hunt. It was far more effective than a lecture, worksheet, or presentation would have been. As much as possible, it brought the places, the people, and the time period alive for my students. The plans are below. I hope you and your students will get as much out of this as my students and I do!
Below is the original, more “analog” version of the scavenger hunt, which uses photos I printed and laminated from my trip.
Thanks to Erin, you can find the technology-enhanced version below. It will require you to download the HP Reality app and set up your own augmented reality. You will still use the photos available in the analog version above, but when students use the app and hold their phone over specific photographs at each site, they will see videos, articles, etc. relevant to that site (once you have created your specific Aurasma).
Following the technology-enhanced scavenger hunt, students are then asked to create a presentation using what they learned. They could also do this in the less technologically involved version, as well. Find a template here:
Recently, one of my free-spirited, creative friends and her equally creative husband spent the weekend with my husband and me at an old house we purchased and are working to rejuvenate. My friend is a talented and passionate teacher with a penchant for languages and writing. Her husband, though he works in the technology field, is a gifted painter. My own husband builds lamps from
re-purposed materials and has recently begun creating beautiful stained glass pieces. And I? Well, I identify mainly as a writer, though I dabble in painting and amateur photography from time to time.
As the four of us painted the front foyer of our 1919 farmhouse, my friend gave me candid feedback on my novel, which I recently asked her to read, giving her free rein to rip it apart if necessary. She gave me some really insightful advice, and admitted she felt relieved that I had taken her constructive criticism so well (granted, she did an excellent job tempering her criticisms with compliments, but I digress).
She followed her critique of my novel with the admission that she had decided she was no longer going to identify as a writer, in part because she needed more validation than she felt writing could offer her, and in part because writing simply offers less tangible and fewer results. When you paint a wall, for example, you can see the effect of your efforts almost immediately–as proven by the way our foyer brightened up with every coat of paint. When you write a story or a novel, the progress is often much slower, and much less noticeable. In addition, while a newly-painted room is sure to get oos and ahhs, a story or novel is likely going to face dozens and dozens of rejections before it ever sees an acceptance (if it ever sees an acceptance).
You can show people a painting, a sculpture, a photograph–and they need only seconds to get at least a cursory appreciation of your work. But someone has to invest a lot of time and energy to read your poem, story, essay, or novel. And lots of activities vie for our time and attention. Writers compete for an audience with TV shows, movies, sports broadcasts, sleeping, errands, etc. We must not only write our story, but then convince people to commit their limited time and energy to reading it. After all, more energy and time are required to read a book than to look at a piece of artwork or watch a film or play.
Plus, producing a tangible product, like a painting or a sculpture, can be satisfying. You can display it. You can sell it. You can hold it, gaze at it, touch it. All of these things are much more difficult, if not impossible, to do with a poem or novel–not to mention the fact that a written work never feels finished. We feel always like we could find a more perfect word, more effectively structure our chapters, more expertly develop our characters or write our dialog or set our scene or or or…. At a certain point, we just have to decide it’s done, whereas other artistic endeavors we can more definitively finish, and that completion is satisfying and fulfilling.
For the first time in my life, I am painting a piece of furniture. So far, so good! While I love writing, and identify as a writer, finding new creative outlets is satisfying.
For the first time in my life, I am painting a piece of furniture. So far, so good! While I identify as a writer, finding new creative outlet is fulfilling.
I understand what my friend is saying. I have often questioned my drive to identify as a writer. Is it really necessary? Why do I care so much? Why do I write? It’s really hard, and I enjoy many other forms of creative expression–painting, singing (though I can’t say I’m any good anymore), sketching, design, photography, and even theater at one point in my life–and these open me up to far less criticism and rejection.
As a writer actively seeking publication, rejections have become routine for me. Getting published is like winning the lottery–just as rare, but just as thrilling. I think maybe that’s one reason I keep writing: It’s hard (really, really hard sometimes), but the sense of accomplishment and elation I experience when a publication accepts my pitch, when I see my work in print or on-line, or when I get that long-awaited paycheck for an idea hatched a year before, far outshines the sense of disappointment that accompanies (yet another) rejection. Maybe I have come to accept that rejections are part of writing–at least for someone who seeks publication. I am no less a writer for having become more familiar with a sense of resignation at another thanks-but-no-thanks than with a sense of validation and accomplishment. In fact, another rejection at the very least means I’m producing enough work–enough writing–to send out into the world. The real fear sets in when I haven’t written anything new in a while–when my list of rejection e-mails shrinks because of a dearth of ideas, a sort of writing drought. My fear of having nothing to write far outweighs my fear of rejection. So, really, maybe that’s how I know I’m a writer.
My fear of having nothing to write far outweighs my fear of rejection. So, really, maybe that’s how I know I’m a writer.
Today is already a good day. It’s Friday. The sun is shining. My honors students are going to write their own Gothic stories, modeled after Poe, Faulkner, or Gilman, later on this morning. In addition to all this–it’s also National Day on Writing, sponsored by the National Council of Teachers of English. All week long on my Instagram account, I’ve participated in their #whyIwrite campaign, posting one reason each day for, well, why I write. This blog post is the culmination of my daily musings on why I write.
Reason 1: I love to write.
This one is probably pretty obvious, but I figured I’d elaborate, anyway. I have been compelled to write since the day I was physically able. Boxes and boxes of journals, begun when I was in just third grade, occupy a significant amount of the storage space in the eaves of my attic. I love to write articles, diary entries, poems, stories, narrative essays, novels, blog posts. There isn’t much I don’t like to write. The feeling I experience when I know I have written something just the way it needed to be expressed is the same satisfaction produced by the sound of a softball smacking a glove in a perfect catch. That sense of achievement and precision is priceless.
In addition to the simple satisfaction writing provides for me, I find the act of writing therapeutic. Writing provides a physical, mental, and emotional means to let go. It allows me to process my emotions and thoughts, and offers a form of catharsis.
It also reaffirms for me my place in the world, and my identity as “writer.”
Finally, I find flow through writing. There is nothing quite like the sense that the piece I am writing–the very words pouring from my pen or fingertips–stems from some secret source I have magically tapped into. I am just the conduit. It is effortless. Finding myself in this state is truly a spiritual experience, one I have not achieved through any other activity.
The feeling I experience when I know I have written something just the way it needed to be expressed is the same satisfaction produced by the sound of a softball smacking a glove in a perfect catch.
Reason 2: I write to remember.
One of my favorite things about writing is going back, sometimes years later, to read things I have written. Many times, I find I wrote about things that, had I never written about them, I would have forgotten them. They never would have resurfaced in my mind. I love rediscovering scraps of experience that, without writing, would have been lost to my consciousness.
Reason 3: I write to be remembered.
Writing offers a form of immortality. It helps me preserve something of myself for future generations–for my nieces, for my nephews, maybe even for their children and their children’s children. Often, when I write something, particularly diary entries or personal narratives, I wonder who might read them decades down the road, and think about me–and know a little more about me, about herself, about the world as it was when I was here, for having read it.
Writing is a handshake, a hug, an invitation to empathy and understanding. It is one way to strengthen the bond of the human family.
Reason 4: I write to get perspective.
Writing helps me get my thoughts in order, helps me sort myself out.
Reason 5: I write to connect.
One of the most rewarding aspects of writing is when people tell me a piece I wrote resonated with them. People’s reactions to what I write about my family and marriage, the lessons I have learned through my mistakes or misconceptions, or the effect nature seems always to have on me are so touching–and encouraging. Writing is a way to reach out to humanity as whole, across oceans and mountains, to cry out into the abyss, “I am here! You are here! And we are not alone!” Writing is a handshake, a hug, an invitation to empathy and understanding. It is one way to strengthen the bond of the human family.