Thomas Mann was asked how he would define a writer. He said, “That’s easy. A writer is a person for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.”
Douglas Adams said, “Writing is easy. You only need to stare at a piece of blank paper until your forehead bleeds.”
If these experiences are true, why would anyone be a writer?
Writers certainly access the pain they have lived and give expression to it. But beyond the accessed pain there are a variety of external discomforts that translate into creation being painful. Ambition, the act of wanting to be a writer, can cause conflict and anxiety. Deadlines certainly create pressure. And for an artist, being given a subject rather than allowing content to arrive organically can feel like being put into a room with no doors. And then there is the long line of critics that show up early and stay way past their welcome in every artist’s head. As we approach our work, the voices start in.
Is what you have to say important enough? Are your expressions artistic enough? Do you know enough about your subject? Do you know enough about your craft? Who are you to speak up about this experience? Who are you to speak at all?
The voices can seem endless and contain every facet of doubt. They are impediments that freeze us before the blank page and bleed us as we strive for creativity. All the writers have these voices. Of course they do. Everyone has been told No repeatedly.
So I return to the question and only speak for myself, but I suspect I’m not alone. I write because I have to. As writers, it’s what we do to arrive back at ourselves. Imagine breaking your pens and sealing off your pages. What would you do? Would you be able to breathe? I wouldn’t. We write for our survival.
Which brings us to the myth of the lonely writer. Something different happens when we write together. We give witness to our work and we collectively defy No. We lend each other courage and company, creating an agreement that what we do is valued. What we have to say is worth listening to. Out of this shared compact we arrive at a place where the voices in our heads can go for coffee and relieve us of their vigilant judgment. We build our confidence together, and soon, whether writing by ourselves or in a group, we can bypass the nay-sayers and restore our intimate relationship with art. Whenever we create, we artists, we writers, should feel free to go for broke, experiment, discover, develop craft, play, search and fill our pages with ink, ink, ink. Not blood.
Upcoming Events
Maud & Addie, the novel so many of you have listened to as I wrote page after page in workshops and retreats, is a finalist in the 2019 Kraken Book Prize for Middle-Grade Fiction! Regal House Publishing will send it to press in 2021. Stay tuned for more details! https://regalhousepublishing.com/the-kraken-book-award/
August Retreat Hawley, Massachusetts: August 11 – 14, 2019 Four days of writing bliss. The setting is perfect for letting your writing emerge! https://www.writingfulltilt.com/retreats/
February Retreat Malibu, California: February 3 – 6, 2020 All writers welcome, no matter the genre or experience level. This is your time to celebrate your writing! https://www.writingfulltilt.com/retreats/
Weekly Workshops Amherst, Massachusetts: Thursday Evenings & Friday Mornings, beginning September 19 & 20, 2019 https://www.writingfulltilt.com/workshops/
Online Weekly Workshops: Monday Evenings beginning September 16, 2019. https://www.writingfulltilt.com/online-workshop/
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