Are writers born or made?

Are writers born or made?
 

 Can anyone become a writer, specifically a writer of fiction, or is the proclivity to writing an innate characteristic?

 This is a question I often ask myself, particularly when participants in my creative writing circles ask for writing prompts or inquire where to find story ideas. As if the life you live and all the people you interact with is not material enough.

 It’s then that I think these people are not writers, but instead fantasize about the clichéd version of a writer’s life. The distinction could be further defined as those who ‘want’ to write, as opposed to those who ‘have’ to write. 

 I have to write and, indeed, am writing all the time - in my mind. I constantly watch people and ask myself questions about the way they're dressed - what are they trying to say; their activities - whom are they waiting for; and their mannerisms - why is she so jumpy. What would my latest character do in this situation, I wonder? Plot scenarios continually run through my mind. ‘What if’ is the question I most frequently ask myself.

 So when I sit down it’s like a floodgate opens. I write.

 I can write anywhere at anytime. Often I simply can’t wait to write. I grab a napkin, an envelope, the edge of a newspaper and scribble words.  I look forward to it, long for it,  and find it deeply satisfying. It’s a release, a meditation, a method to make sense of it all.

 If you’re one of those that fantasize about writing but are too conflicted to do any, then A Writer’s Space, Make Room to Dream, to Work, to Write, by Eric Maisel, is the book for you. 

 Maisel is a creativity coach who holds a PH.D. in Counseling Psychology. He believes that writers aren’t born, they’re cajoled, coaxed, and coached into being. The first step to becoming one is to pick, protect, and honor a physical space specifically for writing. Maisel would have you go on a vision quest to locate the best place in your home to write. Once you’ve divined the location, you must then prepare a security pledge on how you will protect and do the right things in your writing space.

Evidently, the author doesn’t consider life and people enough of a stimuli for a writer and offers all kinds of incentives to inspire one to write. These include a way to access your ‘self-help neurons’ to enter into a state of ‘creative mindfulness’.  The next time you decide to be angry, Maisel tells the reader, use creative mindfulness to decide not to be angry, or, I suppose, just say ‘no to anger’. It’s as simple as that.

 As well as the appropriate spiritual location to enable you to write, Maisel suggests there  are various psychological and emotional ‘spaces’ to psych you up, chill you out, or otherwise evoke or enhance your inner muse. They include an emotional space, reflective space, imagined space, public space, and existential space. 

 At the end of each chapter, the author offers up lessons to help you enter these ‘spaces’ which will allow you to ‘desire worlds into existence; discover the ‘way of the meaning maker’; and, ‘not be quite so nice’. 

 If you’re not  ‘spaced out’ before applying these techniques and exercises, I imagine you will be afterwards.

 There’s also an exercise to ‘upgrade your personality with twelve quick centering incantations’. This might be useful to many of the authentic writers I’ve met since they tend to be reflective, more observers than a participants, and comfortable with their own company, or, depending on your point of view, arrogant, anti-social, loners. 

 A good portion of  A Writer’s Space is given over to anecdotes about the author’s clients/patients, an incredibly flakey sounding bunch who imagine themselves as writers but don’t have the guts and determination to sit down and actually write something. Success comes for the Dr Maisel not when one of his charges gets published, but when, after all the positive nurturing and self-help mumbo-jumbo, they finally, actually make marks on paper. 

 If you haven’t drawn any conclusion on this book from what I’ve told you so far, here's a sampling of Maisel’s profundity:

 “You have been hungering for years to write a certain piece while simultaneously curbing your enthusiasm and by curbing it killing it.

”

 If you can relate to that statement, I’m sorry for you. It’s likely you’ll never be a writer.

The Writer’s Space is a book of excuses, a book for dreamers. 

There’s nothing wrong with having a dream. I dream I’ll be a revered writer. It would also be nice to be revered and rich but I’d sacrifice the latter to be the former. 

The problem comes when you’re not prepared to risk the dream for the reality. The dream is too important to lose, you’ve invested too much in this delusion to try and fail. Better to believe there’s a novel in you and some day you’ll write it and it will be a best seller. That, of course won’t happen until you’ve found the perfect place, are in the right space, and have mastered creative mindfulness to access those self-help neurons, and how likely is that?  So you continue to dream, continue to make excuses. 

I suggest you don’t need another online course, how-to-write book, conference, seminar, lecture or any of Maisel's 'preparations' to write. Buy a notebook and carry it with you at all times. Then instead of reading the horoscope while you’re on your coffee break, jot down some dialogue. 

There, you've written something and saved a whole lot of money as well.

From this initial creative endeavor I can guarantee you two things: the first few lines you  write will be crap; the second time you write something it will be better, and it will get better and better...

The miracle of new relationships

--> “I don’t agree.”

“Critiques are not about right or wrong, Marjorie. They’re just an opinion for you to consider or disregard.”

Marjorie is one of the members of a creative writing circle I facilitate at a seniors’ residence. She’s brought the group her next weekly post for her blog, Marjorie Remembers. Like all her writing, it’s very good. But like all writing, it isn’t perfect. 

Majorie writes about growing up on the prairies; dust storms, blizzards, snaring gophers, one room school houses, and the bonds of rural communities. The stories are filled with high drama, history, and caring. 

Marjorie wants to write better and seriously considers all comments, but she is also a staunch defender of her work.

Next up is David. He reads a short story about a mercy killing in which a husband confesses to smothering his terminally ill wife. It’s a poignant story that asks more questions than it answers and all within about five hundred words. David is a retired United Church Minister.

The group has some questions about clarification and structure of his story. David listens, nods, and makes notes.

Kay reads us her Christmas poem. It’s a thoughtful witty piece about retirees celebrating the season around the pool in Florida. It’s four stanzas, of four lines – flawless meter and not a trace of forced rhyme.

Nothing but praise for Kay, who smiles graciously.

Elizabeth reads the last submission. It’s a memoir of her move from Trinidad, where she and she and her husband served as a missionaries, to rural New Brunswick where he had his first parish. It it’s a remarkable tale of change, adversary and the resilience of the human spirit. It’s also an accounting of the ordeals of a mother and homemaker in rural Canada fifty years ago. 

Elizabeth has a gift for writing humour and her entertaining stories always have the group chuckling.

“I’d cut the first six paragraphs,” says David. “All back story that the reader doesn’t need to know.”

Elizabeth frowns. “I see your point, David.”

I’m pleased because this is an issue that we frequently address. It would be easier to help them improve if they all weren’t such accomplished writers. As it is, their stories are very good as they’re presented and the changes will only make subtle improvements. However, we all recognize that a critique that doesn’t contain criticism is an oxymoron.

I had no idea what to expect when I began facilitating the Creative Writing Circle in the library of the residence. I worried that it might be and hour and a half of listening to bad writing, insincere, vague and unproductive comments, and assuaging hurt feelings. Did I really want to do this? Would teaching really be ‘learning twice’?

What I’ve learned about writing has been overshadowed by what I’ve learned about life. My hard core group are four sophisticated, educated and successful individuals who are also accomplished writers. There stories have stimulated, entertained and educated me and I have added more than a tweak here and a suggestion there in improving them.

They have inspired me with their continuing thirst for knowledge, they way they still embrace a world that is evolving faster everyday, their generosity of spirit and their firm grasp of what is really important in this world. They live every day with passion and intensity tempered with a pragmatic realism. 

Two months ago Kay died. Sweet, petit Kay was found in her bed surrounded by her papers and books. She was determined to write something unique and significant about the evils of war. She’d seen enough of them. She was ninety-five when she died.

That brought the average age of the members (facilitator not included) down to ninety years old.

I use to think there was not one good thing about growing old. My group has taught me that physical aging is a fact, but being old is an attitude. Learning need never end, the beauty of nature can continue to inspire, and with every new person we meet we can experience the miracle of unique relationship that enriches our life and our spirit.

Leaving genre

If reading a story is like taking a trip, then the literary novel or short story is adventure travel: we don’t know when and how we’ll eat or sleep, we have only a glimmer of where we’re going, and we usually end up dirty, startled, disillusioned, or exhilarated. We’re hitchhiking, backpacking, taking the third-class train, and getting to know the countryside. In the end, we know both ourselves and the world better; we’ve grown and changed in the process.

The genre novel, on the other hand, is like a package tour. We don’t expect to have our view of the world unsettled. What we want is a cruise with all the expenses paid ahead of time, umbrella drinks by the pool, and a good floorshow in the evenings. Genres are all about the pleasures of the familiar.

-       The Longman Guide to Intermediate and Advanced Fiction Writing

-       by Sarah Stone and Ron Nyren

I had a plan to become a published author.

I would write romance novel(s) because they are the most read (biggest market) of any kind of fiction and the easiest to get published. This is not to say that authors of genre fiction aren’t good writers. I sometimes think it’s more difficult to be creative when you have restrictions.

Back to the plan.

Once I had a bit of a publishing track record traditional publishers of mainstream, literary fiction would be more likely to consider me. Right?

I wrote three contemporary romance novels. All have been e-published. All have bombed. No traditional publishers of literary fiction are knocking on my door.

What happened?

My novels, I’ve been told, were not popular with romance readers for a number of reasons. I didn’t introduce the love interests soon enough. My ‘Happily Ever After’ was lukewarm or not at all. I needed to ‘sex it up’. My subplots overshadowed the romance. My heroes lacked testosterone. My heroines didn’t show enough vulnerability. My words were too big, my plots too real, my characters too unlikable. My stories were out of control.

I suspect it might have something to do with the notion “you are what you read” – more specifically, you write what you read.

When I read I want the experience of the literary novel, such as described in the opening quote from the The Longman Guide to Intermediate and Advanced Fiction Writing by Sarah Stone and Ron Nyren. Writing for me is the same. I want adventure – similar to my style of hiking. When I head into the backcountry I like to leave the marked trail. At least once I want experience the panic of being lost  – I don’t know where I am, where I’m going, or how or when I’ll get back. Terror is undeniably exhilarating, and overcoming it is oh so satisfying.

I miss the adventure when I conform to the confines of genre fiction. That and the fact that I don’t do it well, makes moving on (not necessarily upward) easy, without risk or anxiety, and without even the faintest indication of success.

Norman Mailer said, “Until you see where your ideas lead to, you know nothing.” This is resonates for me, especially “the you know nothing” part.

What’s important, finally, is that you create, and that those creations define for you what matters most, that which cannot be extinguished even in the face of silence, solitude, and rejection.

- Betsy Lerner

The Forest for the Trees

An Editor’s Advice to Writers

It appears that I’m in the company of a lot of great writers, at least in sentiment if not talent. I will continue to do what matters most for me in the “face of silence, solitude and rejection.” And rejection. And rejection.

According to George Seidel, author of The Crisis of Creativity;  “An artist will always have one thing no one else can have: a life within a life.” Ultimately, that may be my only accomplishment.

Is that a bad thing?

Eagleridge Bluffs - five years later the injustice still resonates

 An individual who breaks a law that conscience tells him is unjust, and who willingly accepts the penalty of imprisonment in order to arouse the conscience of the community over its injustice, is in reality expressing the highest respect for the law.

- Martin Luther King

The B.C. Court of Appeal recently dismissed an argument by 82 year-old environmentalist, Betty Krawczyk, that her 10-month jail sentence for refusing to abandon the protest at Eagleridge Bluffs was unduly harsh.

Ironically, the appeal was heard after Betty had served seven months of the sentence and been released.

Krawczyk was arrested three times between May 25 and June 27, 2006 inside an area of highway construction at Eagleridge Bluffs protesters had been ordered out of by a B.C. Supreme Court injunction. In sentencing her to 10 months in jail, the sentencing judge noted Krawczyk had deliberately disobeyed that order to court publicity for her cause.

Eagleridge Bluffs was a unique ecosystem home for migrating birds and many environmentally rare and endangered plants and animals. The BC Liberal government decided to blow up the Bluffs so the Sea to Sky Highway could bypass the congestion at Horseshoe Bay. This would cut a few minutes off the trip to Whistler, the destination of the 2010 Olympic Winter Games, a promise the government made in its game-winning proposal to the IOC.

Despite alternatives that were not only environmentally friendly but cost effective, and in the face of international outrage, the government stuck to its guns, or more aptly its explosives.

Twenty-four protestors were eventually arrested. All received $1000 fines with additional fines from $250 to $400. Three were jailed for criminal contempt of court including Betty and Harriet Nahanee, a 71 year-old Native elder.

Harriet served nine days of a 14-day sentence. A week after her release she was hospitalized with pneumonia at which time doctors discovered she had lung cancer. She died of pneumonia and complications at St. Paul’s Hospital in Vancouver on February 24, just one month after her original sentencing.

Harriet had been weak from the flu and asthma in January, and it was widely suspected that her condition worsened during her incarceration. An independent public inquiry into her death was called for in the Legislative Assembly of British Columbia , however Solicitor-General John Les, while expressing "regret", denied any government responsibility and refused opposition requests for an inquiry.

Eagleridge Bluffs was a rare and special place not only to me but to hundreds of others. The Liberal provincial government’s intransigence to consider other options was not only frustrating but incomprehensible. Only when it was suggested that the contractor that would carry out the project had donated ten of thousands of dollars in campaign contributions did it begin to make sense. A sickening sense.

Upstanding citizens were so outraged they took it upon themselves to violate a court injunction to abandon the blockade. They were arrested and forcibly removed.

When confronted by an immoral government that uses just laws for unjust causes, what options does a citizen of conscience have?

This is the question I pose in my novel Eagleridge Bluffs. Challenged with this reality, a law-abiding citizen takes the next step and becomes involved in eco-terrorism.

One has to wonder how many citizens that loved the Bluffs, citizens that were frustrated by an immoral government, and paralyzed by the legal system, considered taking the same step that my fictional heroine took?

Gandhi said, ‘In matters of conscience, the law of the majority has no place.’

Five years later the injustice of Eagleridge Bluffs still resonates.

Eagleridge Bluffs, the novel is available at www.devinedestinies.com

Royalties are being donated from the sale of Eagleridge Bluffs to The Friends of Cypress Provincial Park Society to support the ongoing work in the preservation of the park's natural environment, its special historical and cultural features; and through education, an understanding and appreciation of the park's natural features. For more information about The Friends of Cypress Provincial Park Society and their work visit  http://www.cypresspark.bc.ca

Why I critique

The best way I've found to become a better writer is to have my work critiqued by other writers. It can be painful, disappointing, even infuriating but it’s been absolutely essential for me and contributed immensely to the small measure of success I've had.

It’s ironic that the best advice is also the least expensive.  The price of a critique is paid in time not cash, which makes it more practical than conferences, online courses, night school, or creative writing programs.

To get the most from the experience I adhere to a few guidelines. Here is my Critiquing W5.

WHAT to have critiqued.

I send my best work. Critiquers aren’t editors nor are they book doctors. They aren’t there to write my story only to comment on what I’ve written. To send in less than my best is disrespectful, not to mention unprofessional to those taking the time to read it.

I submit the beginning, the end, or anywhere in between, but no more than 3,000 words, about ten pages. I get the most response (on-line) when my submission is short enough to read in one sitting. If my critiquers are sitting across from me I go shorter still. It’s very discouraging to see stifled yawns and fidgeting half way through reading aloud your opening chapter.

WHERE to critique.

I prefer on-line critique groups since I get more and varied responses. Not only are there several different perspectives, but the critiquers can take their time and give me a considered and in depth opinion. In your face critique groups are, by definition, spontaneous and can be confrontational.

Local chapters of the RWA likely have a critique group but other sites include:

Scribophile  www.scribophile.com

Writer’s Digest  http://community.writersdigest.com/?p_PageAlias=Community

Romance Writers Community (RWC)   http://www.charlottedillon.com/RWC.html

WHEN to critique.

I don’t submit work until I’ve completed a second draft. By that time I’ve corrected most spelling and grammatical errors as well as plot glitches in the first draft. Most importantly, I fully understand my plot and characters, which allows me to consider if the comments I receive are relevant. By this point I’ve also invested too much time to get sidetracked by criticisms that address the story and not the writing.

I use to rush to submit. It was embarrassing. Now I let my writing rest and revisit it a week or so later. I’ll also read it aloud before I sending it.

WHO to critique.

Ideally, you will give and get critiques from people writing in the same genre and at the same level of skill or better. I find it difficult to fully critique genres that involve werewolves or vampires because I’m not steeped in their culture. Sending erotica to someone who writes inspirational may not only be personally insulting but also professionally a waste of time.

WHY to critique.

Having my work critiqued by other anonymous writers provides two essential things – an objective opinion, and instruction. The person analyzing and assessing my work doesn’t know who I am and has no vested interest in pleasing or displeasing me. Equally important is that the criticism is coming from another, ideally better writer, who knows more about the craft and the pitfalls than I do.

When I was a kid I use to watch Dick Clark’s American Bandstand – yes, that’s how old I am. One of the features on the show was “hit or miss” where Bandstand regulars would rate a new record (yes, record, not CD). After jiving up a storm the teens would gather around Dick and rate the song out of ten.

“It had a good beat, you know,” a young man with skin-tight pants and a Brylcreamed waterfall would volunteer. “I’d give it a seven.”

“The words were groovy,” a pony-tailed, bobby-soxer would swoon. “It’s a nine for me.”

“Only a four, it was hard to dance to. ”

Thus the new song was “critiqued”.

In the beginning, my critiques were reminiscent of this. On one hand, coming from a reader they were honest and important, but on the other hand, coming from a writer they were superficial and unprofessional. Because I’ve learned so much from the well-considered and knowledgeable insights of magnanimous strangers I wanted to return the same. I wanted my critiques to be of value so I began to read books on the4 craft of writing to learn how other writers addressed the issues I was seeing in the submissions I read (see a short list at the end).

Some submissions I critique are from beginners. In those I try to explain Point of View, Goal, Motivation and Conflict, and Showing instead of Telling. I do this in broad strokes and try to be patient. Regardless of how sensitive I think I’m being some people still get their feelings hurt.

When I submit a work for critiquing I assume it’s going to be criticized. After all, that’s why I sent it in. Even after several rewritings it’s still not perfect, I seldom get it right, and for sure it can always be improved upon. In my opinion, a critique that’s not critical is an oxymoron.

I have to admit sloppy submissions do make me crazy. Poor punctuation, bad grammar and repetition of errors leads me to believe the writer is either not serious or not skilled enough to take this step at this time.

A submission from an accomplished writer can be intimidating. I usually look for subtleties and nuances like voice, the characters’ and the author’s; pacing that involves a variety of sentence lengths; plotting including leaving room for the readers imagination; and, character development – consistency and believability. I’ll often comment on language – a more appropriate word sometimes makes all the difference.

When I submit my work and begin receiving critiques back, I remind myself of two things: everyone is entitled to their opinion; and, unlike almost any other situation I can think of, all opinions have some validity and should be appreciated. I watch for common threads in the criticisms because that's likely where the work is needed. And though it might make sense to defend my work to an editor, it never does to a critiquer.

This mental task of addressing the errors and weaknesses in other people’s writing makes mine better. The adage that ‘to teach is to learn twice’ has no other better application than then when it comes to critiquing other writers.

Here are a few books on the various aspects of writing fiction including the writing experience. I’ve found these books educational, entertaining and, not surprising, well written.

Things Feigned and Imagined – by Fred Stenson

Self-editing for Fiction Writers – Renni Browne and Dave King

Stein on Writing – By Sol Stein

The Fiction Writer’s Guidebook – by Edwin Silberstang

Show, Don’t Tell – by William Noble

Make that Scene – by William Noble

Foisting Christmas on non-christians

“Merry Christmas,” I wished an acquaintance in the spirit of the season.

“That’s exactly right,” she replied vigorously. “It’s not season’s greetings, it’s not happy holidays, it’s Merry Christmas. And if “they” find that offensive then “they” can go back to where “they” came from.

Her response was so vociferous that I was taken aback. I had wished hundreds of people a Merry Christmas over the years, many of whom, no doubt, were non-Christians, and none had said they were offended. I said as much to this angry person but she wouldn’t be placated.

“I’m sick of it. They want to change everything.”

During a post-Christmas dinner discussion with family and friends I mentioned this incident and again was surprised at the intensity and the content of the response.

“They are eroding our traditions. We can’t even hold a Christmas Pageant in the schools anymore.”

Another guest added; “When they see what we have they all want to come here. When they get here they want to change everything.”

“They would never get away with it in the countries they left,” interjected another to a chorus of approval.

It was apparent that the “they” being referred to were new Canadians of visible minorities. “We” were Canadian born white people.

These arguments were not only illogical but also without foundation and hardly worth debate. However, I make a point of confronting anyone who makes what I consider  racially motivated  statements - even if their guests at my own dinner table.

 

Many people, I said, with Canadian born ancestors, like myself, feel religion has no place in the publicly funded school system. That’s any religion - and presenting the Nativity is a religious pageant. Play it out in your own front yard or church but not at school.

And as far as what attracts people to this country, I volunteered it was freedom to elect the government of our choice, freedom to live and move where we want, freedom of self-determination and freedom to practice the religion of your choice. I don’t see anyone wanting to change those principles.

Whether "we" could celebrate Christmas in "their" countries is missing the point. Do we want Canada to be like the countries these people left?

“Well, it was never like this before “they” came,” they grumbled.

I could tell my arguments fell on deaf ears. The underlying element here was fear - fear of change and there’s nothing logical about that.

But I maintain that the ideals that built this country are still strong and Canadians - new or old - still aspire to them. 

Yes, the face of this country may be changing but so what? Its heart and core values remain the same and that’s what’s important.

Merry Christmas.

Untouchable topics

I’m good at banter.

That’s the conversational technique of talking but really saying nothing. It involves discussing safe, generic topics, but with wit and sincerity. Controversy and opinions are avoided in place of complacency and a smug cynicism.

Not that I don’t enjoy a lively debate, but I’ve grown tired of points of view that are ill-informed and in many cases, offensive. I just don’t have the energy to defend my position or condemn others, especially at social occasions. I’ll leave that for late nights with close friends whom I respect.

So I keep it light and avoid the big four; politics, religion, abortion and immigration.

At a recent dinner party, I thought I was on safe ground when I volunteered that women seem to be more prone to accumulate possessions than men. I suggested that perhaps it was something deep in our collective subconscious where women were “gatherers”, while men were “hunters” and therefore forced to travel light.

Both men at the table heartily agreed and began to recite a litany of “junk” that their wives refused to throw out.

“Every unessential item takes time out of your life,” one male guest announced with conviction. “Even though you don’t use it you must make a mental inventory of it, considering where to store it, how to move it and so on.”

“Mind clutter,” stated the other man and they both nodded in agreement.

Their wives looked flushed and it wasn’t because of the wine. They both began calmly but emphatically to deny that they had more stuff than their husbands. It ended in shouting matches with one couple vowing to measure the square footage each was allotted in the attic, while the other duo were making lists of “worthless”  items that each other could sell at their upcoming garage sale, planned during the heat of the moment.

After an uncomfortable silence, I ventured to change the topic. Since it was the season to be shopping, I explained that I had observed that my wife and I had quite a different approach to this activity.

I usually research my purchases before I go to shop and have a pretty good idea of what I am going to buy, and how much I am prepared to pay for it before I enter the store.

On the other hand, to my wife shopping is an event - an adventure undertaken with anticipation and excitement. She may have a general idea of what she is looking for but is open to anything that might catch her eye. Shopping is a leisure activity to her, something to be enjoyed, while to me it is something to be endured.

“My wife doesn’t know what she’s shopping for until she sees it,” was the response of one of the fellows to my theory.

The other summed up his partner’s shopping habits in one word, “Compulsive.”

At this point I subtly began to move sharp instruments from the dining table and breathed a sigh of relief that we had put off serving any hot beverages.

The caustic response from one woman was that since it was her own money she spent she wondered why it was any of his business. But perhaps she should return the leather jacket she had “compulsively” bought him for Christmas.

Our other female guest recalled the time her husband went grocery shopping on his own. He spent three times what they usually budget for food and most of the non-perishable items still remain in the deep recesses of the refrigerator and at the back of top shelves of the kitchen cupboards. When he challenged her she began to list off items that were so rare as to be on the grocery endangered list.

When you’ve been married for as long as I have you recognize looks that say, “this hasn’t ended here. Just wait until we get home.” Those looks were flashing back and forth between spouses the rest of the evening.

As for me, I’ve added two more topics to the list of “untouchables” and plan to bone up on banter about the weather.