I believe in personal revelation, that we can be directed to the best path for our life if we are open to receiving messages. At several major turning points I feel like Howard and I have received instructions about what we should do. The biggest of these was our decision for Howard to leave a product management position at Novell to be a cartoonist. I feel like I receive direction and help with myriad small things as well. The story idea for Gleek, ideas for how to run homework time, and the soft answer in the face of wrath, are all examples.
At times this belief in inspiration is frustrating or even frightening. There are times I feel inspired to do things that I do not want to do, or that I’m afraid to do. We would not have the house we live in if we had listened to our desires to not move instead of the inspiration that we should. I have had almost 10 years to be grateful that we listened to that inspiration. I find this is usually the case, that the results of following inspiration are far better than I could have pictured.
All this is in my mind because I was pressed with inspiration at the turning of the year. It loomed insistently, pressed me to shift the family schedule, pushed me to stop going to writer’s group, and one evening it made me stop blogging in the middle of a sentence and go do something else. I felt hounded and bewildered. All the messages seemed to tell me to stop writing, to put it down. Yet in the past I’ve received strong affirmations about the value of the writing I do. And I did not want to give it up. I had plans. I had dreams. I was going to write things that would make people amazed. I was going to earn respect as a writer. I was going to have things I could hold up as accomplishments.
But the messages came fast and strong. “No success can compensate for failure in the home.” “Your kids need you here.” “Put it down.” “Trust me.” And so piece by piece I did. I stopped attending writers’ group. I stopped pushing to draft a novel. I stopped posting in forums to make sure that people knew my name and face. I cried and wept and gnashed my teeth until I reached a mental place where I could honestly say “Thy will be done.”
And then the storm was over. Now I can see clearly what I could not before. It is not the writing that was the problem, it was the pride and ambition. I wanted measurable success as a writer. I wanted recognition from others. My desire for those things was distorting my writing and my life. For almost a year I’ve planned to write a book for Link, but it has been held up because I wanted to write something that was also good enough for publication. I see now that as I built plans and dreams, the book stopped being for Link and started being something that I wanted. Other projects and plans were similarly pulled off course. It is not the projects themselves that were a problem, but the motivations that were driving them too hard and too fast in the wrong direction.
My situation is different than other writers I know. I already live a lifestyle that allows both Howard and I to be at home. We already pay our bills with creative efforts. Someone who is seeking such a lifestyle needs recognition. They need to be business oriented and focused. They need to be promoting themselves and putting themselves forward. We do many of these things for Howard and Schlock Mercenary. We need these things to bring in money to pay the bills. But now I know that is not my personal path. I am already living a dream that many people long for. It would be foolish of me to jeopardize it because I want more attention for myself. I will still write, but I need to write as inspiration leads me. More importantly, I need to let writing lay idle while I tend to other things.
If I want my life to be truly joyful, then my life can not be about me. A thread that skips over the surface of a weave is very visible, but the threads that give strength to the fabric are the ones that are rarely seen because so many other threads weave around them. My life needs to be about building bonds, and helping others, and being helped, and learning together, and growing together. I want to be pleased with a whole fabric that I helped build, rather than only having my own little thread that I worked hard to make showy and shiny.
I like your thread analogy in the last paragraph. I sorta’ see where you’re coming from as well. Most of my friends are doing interesting things; some are artists, having shows and attending conventions. Others are writers, gathering rejection slips. One’s a teacher, taking classes to Japan and participating in stuff at the national level. Another runs a small company and is building a business. And we’ve all been friends for the last 20 years, all starting out wondering what we were going to do in life. It’s a great group of friends to have but I sometimes feel I’m let in on sufferance now, just because I’ve always been part of the group.
I haven’t done anything creative or exciting. I’m the one who didn’t graduate college, who’s been a working stiff all this time. And it’s not that I haven’t had the chances; I went to art school for two years, because I felt like I should, and I can draw and I play with clay now and with music earlier. But all these ‘skills’ don’t actually translate into really being driven to do anything.
I just work, come home, and wife and I play with our daughter, sit down with homework and work on the house. Growing up with creative people all around, who have ideas and such makes me feel kinda’ lame for not trying to do more with my life. Your thread piece makes me feel better, as our daughter is our great work for the world. So far, at seven, she’s interested in just about everything, from science to art and everything in between. If we can help her keep her sense of wonder into adult hood, and provide a fertile ground to grow in, with support for whatever she wants to do, we’ll have lived a good life.
I like this post, and I think what you’re realizing about your life is amazing and wonderful. The path to publication is long, and there are many, many other ways to be successful as a writer, both along that path, and on other paths. You don’t have to have editor recognition to do something meaningful, and that dream can come later if you still wish it to. I went through a time that wanting to be published nearly ruined my writing. I learned that I do what I do for me first, and then to work toward that goal second. But everyone has a different path, I think. I’m glad we all don’t have to serve the same purposes in life.
I do think, however, that you mis-characterize other authors a bit in your second to last paragraph. I’m not trying to be published for recognition, or even to pay the bills. There are many, many easier ways to do that. I’m smart and capable; I could get much more recognition in another field. I could make much more money doing something else than I could doing this, and could probably find something else I enjoy also.
For me, it’s all about the distribution. If I don’t get my books on shelves, they sit on my computer and don’t help anyone. In the same way that you feel pressed to focus on your family and write books for your children, I feel spiritually pressed to get my work on bookshelves, to get it into the hands of people I’ve never met. It’s my mission in life, I think. It’s what I’m here to do. This is the real reason I’ve never quit. Every time I do I feel pressed again, as if Heavenly Father is saying, No Janci, this is what you need to do.
This has become more and more clear to me in the past few months. I’ve stopped worrying entirely about whether or not I’ll be published. I will. I just know it. Drew points out to me that I talk like I already am, and this is because that’s how it feels to me. I’m being told to structure my life–my family, my marriage, my plans for future children–to include a life as a professional author. So I will. But that doesn’t mean that someone with a differently structured life and a different set of personal goals and spiritual paths can’t do something just as important a different way.
I did not mean to imply that other writers are in it for the glory, merely that the things that are wrong for me at this time may be right for them. This is exactly what you’ve so eloquently illustrated. Thank you.
Oh, and every time I hear or read you talking about your goals for your writing, it sounds exactly perfect for you. There’s a sense of rightness about the path you’ve chosen. I’m rooting for you, but I think you already knew that.
Yeah, I knew that. I wonder, though, about what I should do for you. I still think it’s worth getting criticism on writing, even if you’re not aiming at traditional publication for it at this time. Can I still help you get to where you want to be? Because I still want to read your work.
I didn’t mean that I thought you meant that. I figured it was just a wording thing.
Of course you’ll still get to read. I love hearing what you have to say.
That last paragraph is beautiful. That’s how I want my life to look, too.
Ah! Thank you for this post. I’m a longtime Schlock reader, which is how I found you on LJ. 🙂
I’m trying to costume and make indie movies in that same vein: community, inspiration, where the people given me to care for are cared for. This is hard – but it is after all the only way. The only way I *want*, that is. “Thy will be done” is the only tenable path I’ve found, too.
Thank you so much!!!
You’re welcome. Thank you for taking the time to appreciate out loud. It lets me be glad for posting instead of just feeling exposed.