Never A Compromise

Doug mentioned in class on Tuesday that there are things that we absolutely cannot give up—things that aren’t even on the table for compromise—and our writing has to be one of them. When I was thinking about what things in my life aren’t even up for discussion or compromise, the first thing that came to mind is my career goals and my future’s success.

I’ll start by saying that I have an obsessive personality…at least, that is what I have self diagnosed it to be, for lack of better words, for what this strange quirk of mine is. Its not an addictive personality trait—not OCD, though I do find myself in fits of washing my hands (germs are icky!), and it doesn’t relate to substances whatsoever…not that I don’t enjoy a good round or two of cocktails with friends. I am obsessive in my goals for life—not the worst thing ever. I find myself determined beyond all things to achieve my career goals, once I have discovered them (and let’s just say that it took a while for me to find them…). I come from a long line of woman just like me, and all of them have proved to be very successful in their life times. But how do I harness this obsessive quality of mine into other aspects of my life? How do I become obsessed with writing?

As we were sitting in class discussing our writing advents, I was thinking to myself, why am I the worst at getting writing done when I am making my own timeline? Similar to, it seems, every writer ever. And then my brain and I had a moment: I should find a way to make myself as obsessive about my writing as I am about other things in my life.

Wouldn’t that be nice.

And as I was sifting through how that might be possible, I thought about what has made me obsessive about certain things and not others. The common denominators I have come to find are that the things that I obsess over have become a routine of mine in one form or another. I am in school every day, so I am surrounded by people with like minds and goals; I am surrounded by professors that I look up to who have already achieved these goals and who inspire me that these goals of mine are within my grasp; I work in a restaurant where I know that if I don’t achieve these goals of mine, I will remain until I am crispy and spotted and grey (if that’s not enough of an incentive, I don’t know what is…). So I find myself existing in a world where these goals of mine are A) not uncommon B) achievable C) mandatory. And that right there, ladies and gentleman, is my answer to how to getting writing done.

I have to believe that my goals in writing (oh, let’s say a 25-30 page research paper for this one professor’s class…) are A) not uncommon B) achievable C) mandatory. It’s getting into the routine of writing and doing every day that is going to get me there.

When I am trying to get skinny or healthy again, I drink Isagenix meal replacements. They’re super healthy and jam-packed with nutrients, and make me feel awesome. When I start my Isagenix, I am determined and become obsessive. Consequentially, I achieve my goals on time. But if I take a ONE day break or forget to order them, I’m screwed. I fall out of my routine and it isn’t after another couple of months and fat jeans until I pick them up again. And the same goes for going to the gym. I can’t let myself fall out of my routine if I want to be successful. I know that I have to plan for when I might run out or may not have enough time to dedicate to my routine. Likewise, this is how I have to plan my writing if I want to be successful at it.

In order to be successful in my writing, I have to put myself in the position to become obsessive, and I have to plan around possible failures. I have to make my writing something that cannot be compromised.  

And you know what’s funny about all this? I have found that I am actually happier when I am writing regularly. Imagine that.

~Grace

Tweeterers

Unfortunately, I haven't made it too far in the Palmer book (since mine JUST came in the mail... Sigh...) but something I've been thinking about a lot from our conversation in class is the divide between our personal and professional lives as writers, especially when it comes to the sphere of social media. I'm slightly obsessed with Twitter, and the fact that Palmer has utilized it for direct conversations to find places to sleep has made me think about its role in the space of a writer.

J.K. Rowling has made her presence known on Twitter; she tweets about Scottish politics and sports, replies to Harry Potter questions from fans, and fights the trolls on a regular basis. She has blurred the lines between a professional writer, a social media maven, and a social justice warrior, and she has completely let her wall between "personal" and "professional" down. Perhaps she has this privilege because she's reached an immortal status, but then again, maybe she's just made a name for herself and is blazing a trail for words to blend like watercolor paints, continuing work we do as writers into work we do as tweeters.

My Twitter is a conglomeration, including a multitude of "weird tweets," i.e. offbeat humor that I can't even begin to describe. My tweets also include complaints about school, conversations with friends using excessive hashtags, and the occasional social justice tweet that has gone viral. I like to think that my Twitter account reflects me, but a lot of the time, it does so through the tweets of others; their jokes and ideas align with mine, and I like to think that, through them, a fuller picture of myself shines through. That raises the question of mediation for me. Whether the website of Twitter or simply a tweet that you didn't write, does that mediation get in the way of our "transparency?"

Although Palmer heavily emphasizes trusting her followers and how much it pays off for her, she still speaks of a sense of uneasiness when meeting her hosts for the first time. I think that undermines the idea of complete transparency on social media; although her vulnerability is at an all time high in trusting her lives with these people, she still doesn't have a sense of who they really are before they meet, and the same goes for them. That could be due to the mediation of conversation through an online forum; everyone shapes a sense of themselves online, and even pictures and real-time conversations can't add up to the sense you get from meeting someone in person. While I think Palmer is brave and I admire her vulnerability, I don't think it's fair for her to skim over that idea of terror for the sake of arguing that she truly knows her followers. I think that online, you can only go so far.

This little Japanese guy...?

"One day a really old, raggedy Japanese guy watched me for a very long time..."

This story on page 45 leaves me a conflict in my head. One of two things happened when he asked her to marry him:

1) He put the note in her hat and then promptly walked away without hearing her answer, or
2) He puts the note in her hat and then stands there watching her read it at then looks her in the face and waits for her to answer him. What would you even say to this? I'm picturing stuttering and then watching his face kinda crumble. If he had the cojones to give her the note in the first place, he had to have at least sort of expected her to say "yes."

I'm not sure which story I prefer. The first option leaves me with this little man who just asked her to marry him and then walked away without even looking back. It appeals to my sarcastically romantic side...

"He wanted to know if I would marry him.
I don't know how he expected me to answer.
I never saw him again."

Any thoughts?

Real Writing

            Accepting reality is the hardest and most painful thing a writer must do. Once that acceptance is made though, the world of writer and the world in which we live can finally merge together and maybe even spit out a career in the written word. How many of us in the department have said ‘oh, I want to be a poet. I want to write novels. I want make short stories, I want to written for Hollywood. It’d be nice if these dreams could come down from the sky and join us in our everyday lives, but for most, that will not happen. I believe that most writers instead will find their living in more practical applications; as editors, tech writers, publishers, journalists, or any other career that might have a regular paycheck. This is not to say that you can’t still be a novelist or poet or whatever – I’m sure many writers are both. But most of these multitasking writers working I the field probably have a name from the latter group on the business card, even if a name from the former labels their heart.

            Sitting in the Exponent late last night as we finished layout made me realize that writing isn’t some romantic notion many laymen and young writers alike perceive it to be. The work I was doing last night in that office until was writing. Or at least a job a ‘writer’ would have. And I can assure you, there was no pounding away at the keys with boozy inspiration alone in the ‘study.’ It was real work – frustrating and tedious at times –– and certainly not what most aspiring writers would think of when they imagine a day in the life of a writer.

            The reason for this disconnect because the imagination blocks out the bad in the future. Some might daydream of typing out a full novel in a sleepless weekend, but I bet the Monday morning going into the office for their real job won’t come to mind, and I most certainly don’t think the would imagine the rejection letters they will surely receive at least on a few of their pieces.

            Learning to see the future more realistically can open us up not only to more opportunities as a writer, but also might make writing what we are passionate about a more reasonable reality. Working hard in a career to support a writing habit seems to me like the most common way to write the finer crafts (full time). That might be in retirement, but I don’t see anything wrong with writing away my twilight years. The end of life is probably when the best stories come out anyways – a old man surely has way more and more interesting stories than I do. And maybe ‘retirement’ might just be a point of financial independence that allows for full time work in a non-traditional field. My goal is to reach that point as soon as I can with a more traditional job and then dedicate myself to what I really like – fiction.

            This isn’t to say I will shun my personal favorite writing discipline now; I’m (hopefully) going to start writing a novel for this class and I love to write short stories and come up with unique ideas. But I do recognize that that kind of writing won’t pay my bills for a long time, if ever. Likely, journalism or editing will be my field for many years before I can leave it behind, and I’m okay with that. I like that kind of work, it’s just not my passion. And who knows, maybe I will find a ‘real’ job in a writing field that I enjoy even more that fiction writing. But that is something that will come down the road, and for now, I can only work towards a successful career as not a novelist, but a Writer.

The Truth, the Whole Truth, and Nothing But the Truth (Well, Not Quite...)

The topic of being "seen" as a writer fascinates me; how much do we write that covers us up, and how much do we write that opens us instead? I would say most writing falls into the second category-- well, the writing that I like to read does, anyway. To answer Crikett's question about whether a social media screen acts as a filter, yes, there doesn't seem to be enough space in one Facebook post or one Instagram caption to sum up the entirety of being human. However, no two posts are the same, so while it's easy to recreate this glossy rendition of a fairly-average life, your posts look different than the next guy's, and it takes courage to put yourself out there as you and only you, even if you are only looking for validation from Internet strangers. The idea of perfection runs rampant on social media, and I think that stands in the way of showing one's truest self; it takes courage to be who you are, not who others want you to be. (Ugh, sorry about that pukey cliche. It seemed to fit.)

Growing up with a judge for a mom, I got my fair share of comments about gavels and bad guys. While those seemed trivial, I did grow up with a pretty strong belief in telling "the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."
However, when my mom was diagnosed with a near-fatal autoimmune disorder in the fall of 2013, I went to write about it and found that things got... Fuzzy. My memories were shifting and my time spent away at school made it difficult for me to understand everything that was going on at home. But, I completed a piece for a Creative Writing class about her sickness, and even though I was scared shitless at letting others read and interpret my rawest emotions, it was a form of healing. It was connecting with others about what it means to be scared, about what it means to be wholly uncertain about the future, about how to react when life throws you something you didn't think you were ready for.
It wasn't all true, though. I made up stories, I left out parts, I switched things around that I didn't like. Memoir writing is a perfect platform for exploring this "fuzziness;" is it fair for the writer to have that ability to change things? I would argue yes, when it comes from a place of trying to understand and connect with an audience. Andre Aciman, in his essay "How Memoirists Mold the Truth," writes, "Writing alters, reshuffles, intrudes on everything... And maybe this is why we write. We want a second chance, we want the other version of our life, the one that thrills us..." And here is where the element (issue?) of truth comes in to having yourself be seen through your writing. What would my mom, the judge, say to my claims of, well, fiction in my account of her life? I would argue that the stories I told never hurt anyone; they were for the benefit of both the reader and me in order that the story could go on as it needed to be told. The pain, the guilt, the fear remained-- the vulnerability remained. In that moment, in that classroom, I felt as though I was being truly "seen" through my writing. I think that if you can find some element within a story with which to connect with your reader, some small morsel of shared intimacy, you've found your truth. You've made yourself vulnerable. And you've found success as a writer.

To be creative is to be vulnerable, to put your innermost thoughts and ideas onto a blank document for all the world to read is terrifying. It takes courage. Brene Brown, in her TED Talk The Power of Vulnerability, lists courage as one of the main traits people who believe they are worthy of love posses. We ask how to apply that vulnerability, especially when it comes to asking, to the world of and our futures in writing, and I would say that entails taking the idea of courage and pushing it one step farther into having confidence. Confidence in approaching a situation not by asking for writing, but asserting that your writing is needed and showing you are capable of producing. That's a scary thing to do. It takes risk. Creativity takes risk. But that's why it needs to occur, because by pushing ourselves into that unknown space, we produce better work and find greater success (personal and communal) as writers.

Guess I'll be vulnerable first

Hey! the blog is up. You two accepted invites, and you're both admins now, so feel free to change things around to fit your style. (I am very new to blogging... )

So.... Can we just start a blogversation(haha...) and go from there? Would you guys rather have structured posts about everything we read for class and then reply, blah, blah,..?




As far as my vulnerability as a writer goes, here's my two cents:

As writers, we place a little of ourselves out there into the world every time we do our work, and we invite our audiences into some of our most vulnerable places.

Each time I complete an assignment and turn it in, I put a small portion of myself on a page and I ask someone who purportedly knows more about life tell me what they think of my snapshot. Every article, blog post, novel, status update, and e-mail that anyone has ever written has taken a sample of the writer's true self and put it on display.

From here, I pose you a question. When we put ourselves on Facebook (or blogspot... whatever), do we invite ourselves to be vulnerable to the world? Or does the presence of a screen act as a filter; a curtain behind which our true selves hide and put forth the portions of our being that are not vulnerable to attack?