I have another, slightly piqued comment in response to the questioner… .
You talk about Hallmark TV, Hollywood writing and you dismiss it all.
I used to do this, I used to want to be Faulkner (now I want to be Steinbeck… ). I dismissed romantic comedies and superheroes and tv as all shite.
But then i met people who love those genres. Genuinely love it, they sweat blood trying their absolute hardest to write the best Dan Brown novel they can. And the truth is, it’s not easy to do that either. It is not easy to write a Marvel film, or a sexy page turner or a superficially light but entertainingly forgettable 2 hour film or a 10 season family comedy.
It’s basically not easy to write full stop.
I think having respect for all writers, for all those people who actually finish something and then have the balls to get it published, made or seen… helps your own endeavours. Maybe they deserve a little more of your admiration, not because you like their style, it’s not your bag- it is a lot of people’s bags- but you can still learn from them. They do what they love and I take my hat off to them.
Yes. I once heard a story about a good literary writer who, tired of not getting paid, “decided” to write “a Danielle Steele thing.” A year later…he hadn’t, because he couldn’t, because he didn’t love that form and so was condescending.
We are what we are, I guess, and love what we love.
On the flip side, there's Mario Puzo, who decided to write a gangster story after struggling as an author of literary novels. I remember reading The Godfather in junior high, and my English teacher saw the book cover on my desk, sniffed derisively, and muttered (loud enough for everyone to hear), "Trash." I don't know if I'd call it great literature or trash, but I know I enjoyed it, and it spawned a couple of pretty good movies.
Emma, spot on. I’m reading a mystery/suspense book right now and love it. I loved the movie “Young Frankenstein”but also “Anatomy of a Fall.” I love stories, they don’t have to be considered literary works of genius or academy award winning.
I read recently that the shifting hump started out as Marty Feldman trying to give Mel Brooks a hard time with continuity, just for fun, but Brooks liked it so much he incorporated it into the script.
I was reading a craft book and was introduced to the premise for The Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty, author of Big Little Lies. Not my usual fare but decided to give it a try. Really easy to read, intriguing, and I totally know I could never write it. We can start veering into a discussion of art vs commercial fiction but why? Both are valid and entertaining and beloved! I saw a recent review denouncing Barbie as lesser art because the specter of Mattel’s involvement made it too “commercial.” I was reading the article aloud to my partner. We looked at each other and stuttered and said “but but but … Campbell’s soup cans!”
i really liked it too! A LOT! Been sporting Barbie pink painted pinky nail ever since! The intertextuality to other movies, all the allusions, starting with the opening 2001, A Space Odyssey bit, it really was well done. Good movie-making, like good literature, will often pay homage to its roots in some fashion. Greta got robbed!
I know you're pretty much joking but: Greta is nominated for best screenplay, and if her movie wins Best Picture she will win an Oscar for producing. Her movie garnered 8 nominations in all. She wasn't robbed!
Adapted screenplay. Adapted from what? I think she has earned her accolades. But I still think she merits a best director nomination for the movie. It’s less a comment on her than it’s a genre issue. Look at the movies for which women have been nominated or won for best director. Serious stuff! Genius doesn’t fit the molds.
Go into it expecting comedy and fun. Those who were in a serious mindset kind of took it to another level, too much "thinking" going on. It's a blast, with some good messages mixed in.
"It's basically not easy to write. Full stop. " Those writers deserve their audiences. Amen. I think George was talking about writers who are driven not by what others want but by what is itching inside them. I have a dear friend who writes cozy mysteries. She has a huge following and when she travels, she keeps a travel blog going. For them. She makes a fine living and she's a good writer. I admire her and sometimes envy her. But wait. She complained not long ago that there were things she couldn't write about. Her audience would rebel. I protested a bit. But she said, no, she knew her readers. And I stopped being envious.
So true. Very few writers end up in the "Literature" section at Barnes & Noble, and that is fine.
Just to show you how little know, I had to look on-line to check the spelling of "Barnes" and to see if they actually have a "literature" section. They apparently do.
Thanks for this. I spent maybe 30 years disdaining TV as a somehow inferior artistic form (while at the same time liking it so much I had to do without a television to stop myself from watching it). Then the pandemic hit, and I found myself glued, nightly, to streaming services for an episode (or two) of a wide variety of television from around the world. Still felt guilty about it, though, until recently.
Recently, I started to watch Amazon Prime's "Three Body," and at the same time to read the novel it's based on, "Three Body Problem," by Cixin Liu. And I was stunned to see that the video version is not only faithful to the multi-layered plot and character arcs, but even to the dialog. It's the same thing, in a different form.
So I had to ask myself why, if I spend an hour and a half watching this series, I feel I've wasted that hour and a half, but if I read the same story in the novel, I feel virtuous.
Your comment reminds me of my years in cell animation–like writing, another art form that could require years to achieve completion.
When I taught special effects via the camera stand, students sometimes expressed despair at their many perceived fears of not ever "getting there". Not finishing a work. They lamented, they wanted to know how I could stand the "huge" amount of time it took to do all of those long columns of calculations for the x,y, and zoom axis-the camera movements that were intrinsic to the language of animation.
I had something to say to them, a thing that I heard stated by another instructor I knew. It's been almost 40 years since those teaching days, but I never forgot the simple statement I loved to quote for my longing animators. It was this—
"Every piece that gets finished is a miracle."
To me, truer words have never been spoken. The art that we love is not alone a product of the artist. No matter what life throws at us, how long it takes, all the art that ever is, was, or will be, will reach through the dark, like a sprout, hungry for the sun's warm and life giving power. Every seed that makes this harrowing journey through the dirt is a miracle that will not truly know its beauty until it is beheld by another. Or eaten. As the case may be.
All the same, without knowing what dark world , or wondrous joy, our artistry will be birthed into, we open our veins and pour onto our pages. Good enough or bad won't be the question.
Only this—is my truth, my honesty there, do I truly believe that a miracle is pressing up through the dirt?
If so, then there is nothing that can ever stop you from getting there. No matter how long it might take.
I’ve always loved a bit of shiny glass amongst the jewels. Pulp novels. Reality tv. The odd soap, though I havent found one in ten years. Slightly paranormal romances, thats my thing. I remember a slightly psychic dog in a Latino soap, God it was good. I think it was my gateway.
There is really almost nothing to add to what George has so generously written here today. What a beautiful answer to an honest, searching question. THAT BEING SAID, being me, I do have one tiny thing I feel I can add in hopes of being helpful. Questioner, you write: "My work isn’t yet good enough for me, though." And I want to say, yes. Same here, all of the time. "My taste doesn’t translate into prose." Right--I feel the same way, too. "How do I leave the false but comfortable behind?" All i can say--because I can relate to you, I know what it's like to feel "my work isn't good enough for me," etc.--is that a writer has to just keep writing. For some of us, it takes years and years and years to finally write something where we can say Yes, I did it. Keep going, that's what I want to tell you. Struggle on! You WILL get there. I know you will--your letter alone attests to your ability to string words together, to express yourself on the page. And you want it so badly--more than most people, I think. The only way to get there is through--words and more words, over and over again. It's frustrating and demanding and often a person wants to give up. But I have faith your voice willl appear to you and you will soon enough know how to tell the stories ONLY YOU CAN TELL. Thank you for your question, which I think will make a lot of people feel less alone. And George, thank you for your lovely reply.
I am once again reminded that I must simply keep writing, that writing begets writing, and perhaps, eventually, even begets great writing. But not writing because one doesn't feel good enough, begets nothing. I do need this reminder over and over, it seems...
Sheesh. I needed to read this question today. We had the opposite upbringing, questioner. My father was sort of a grifter, we moved over a dozen times before I entered high school, and multiple times after. My parents lacked "executive function" as I understand now, both suffered from untreated mental illness. As a family, we were evicted, or sometimes would slip out of an area after a long while of not paying rent and bills, we ran out of food for periods of time, money to go to the laundry, my school clothes were ill-fitting and dirty, I was not taken to a doctor or a dentist until age 14. I'm hoping now as an adult that I had all my vaccines.
I changed schools often. Some kids were not allowed to play at with me as I looked rough and had a foul mouth. My parents didn't care about school, they felt it was sucking the creativity out of kids, they never asked if i did homework, didn't care about good grades. My father was shocked that I wanted to go to college, tried to talk me out of it. He believed that artists should just "spring forth" from the genius within or something magical like that. I did make it to a state college with the help of a friend from a upper middle class family, also pell grants and cal grants, and I worked several jobs.
None of those experiences made me a better writer–– I read your struggles and they are also mine, except that when you have more than one job you have little time for leisure/reading, so you are way ahead of me in that regard, and probably had a much better formal education. This was my favorite question and answer, it is illuminating to me on such a profound level. We all struggle. We all have regrets and things that have held us back. Writing is hard, and sometimes I feel that I don't belong here in Story Club with my sketchy education. The thing is, I realize that many other people also feel that way, as they've alluded to that in the comments this whole time.
Here is a thought, in case it might stir something. There is occasional talk of Buddhism here, or its principles, and from what I have seen, SC is always geared toward improvement, of writing, of art, of humanity. My sense is that all who are genuine, and who try, are welcome. There is no, or little, judgement, and we are all here to learn. ‘One of our own.’
What if, in the Buddhist POV, we, or some of us, chose the family in which to appear? It could be, say, because the person needed a specific journey, for certain vitamins, say, fortitude, or courage, or to develop resourcefulness. Those born with a silver spoon in their mouth don’t have to go search for their silver. Or their journeys, this time, are different. We may never know why things are as they are.
These things take time, though, to make one’s own. The view is longer.
I believe the Questioner did mention Hermann Hesse: *Journey to the East*. Rather than becoming these artists, perhaps it would be a task, in small, simply to *be* first. Sometimes poetry, a line or two, is a good place to start.
Sea, you say that sometimes you feel that you don't belong in Story Club because of your "sketchy" education?? Are you kidding? You're smart & insightful & from all that I've read of your posts both here & on your site, you're a damn good writer! And "sketchy" may just have been the driver. Maybe the root of that not-good-enough/imposture syndrome thing has to do with your early life as you describe it, I dunno, I'm no shrink, but you definitely belong in Story Club, and likely a few other best places. We're all richer for your presence.
Sweet! I feel that way about all of you. I see my relationship to the questioner, in that they feel as if they've not had the "right life" or background to write well. It's interesting that we live in "opposite world" and yet both feel that. Thank you, Rosanne. You are a great writer.
I feel that too, Sea Shepard! But then I think, thanks to George's generosity and the wonderful commentors here, this is the best place to address the gaps in my literary education! 😊
This is a great perspective Sea. Thank you for reminding us about something really important: We can only begin from where we are. That's it. We don't get to change any of it. So the whole thing is to be aware, to feel, to decide which step to take next. Then look around. Then feel. Then take the next steps....
Now that I hang around with a different set of people, a different class, just like in the story we're studying currently, I realize what parents do for their kids. In the United States, people move to certain zip codes because the schools are better. They literally move because of the schools. I remember how that blew my mind when I learned about that. I have brilliant friends who tutor other people's kids, prepare them for tests, help them do their school work, sometimes actually DO the school work for the kids. It's true, J.D.A., we'll be fine, and there are plenty of people who went to the best schools in the world but are still sort of clueless.
I like George's contrasting of "sentimental" and "emotion-rich."
There's also a difference between "sentimental" and "sincere." David Foster Wallace talked a lot about how modern culture tends to promote detached cynicism as cool and hip. Sincerity is often seen as uncool, but why? There should be room in literature for the unironic expression of sincere feeling. So if you're using George's methods to steer away from sentimentality, you may find a rich vein of sincerity nearby.
Sincerity sells greeting cards and anything in television commercials. The older I get, the weepier I get. Am I feeling more, Am I more accepting of what I’m feeling and inclined to express it? Or has Madison Avenue hammered away at me for so long that they’ve broken through?
Yeah, I'm getting weepier too. Maybe it comes with age. Madison Avenue understands that we, as humans, have semi-predictable responses to things. They exploit it to sell products, but the feelings those hallmark moments elicit are real, I think.
Funny statement, it reminded me of an old film, "Apartment Zero" I think it was titled. About a guy so paranoid about his neighbors invading his privacy. The film heightened his imagined terrors about them barging into his life.
As I like to remind my students when they struggle with this question: Alice Munro (I'm Canadian) wrote storms about living in boring small town Ontario.
I soaked this in. Thank you for your wisdom, George, which I will return to again and again.
"deletion, compression, imagination"
"It all matters...every little thing"
"The world is always vaster than we can imagine."
"the restlessness of the mind"
"what did I want and how did I feel?"
I am so grateful for your continued work to communicate with strangers...for the dialogue you engage in. I learn from what you say in conversation with others, and I draw upon what is said while I teach and write.
I love the depth and breadth of the questioning and the answering. It occurs to me as a sort of compression of an answer: look within, look without, keep alternating, write about what your characters are up to when they are not in your story, look within, look without, write out of love instead of hope, see what happens. (I vow to take this advice myself!)
My only answer to that is to read the question, and George’s answer, above. (Writing for the love of words, character, sentences, mood, meaning, paragraphs, instead of hoping for lightning to strike. It only strikes when you’re not expecting it.)
''Every person matters; every movement, every shaft of light; every strange inclination, every twinge in the calf; every person we might normally overlook, everything that we normally consider “unliterary.”
It all matters.
Wouldn’t it be amazing, to really feel that way?’’
Thanks George I think I understand more about my issue about “What is Good Enough”. But not everything there is always more to learn. The writer opens his soul so I send him some hugs and say stay true to yourself your better than good enough.
I really appreciate that you reframe this writer's angst and invite him to look at it on the level of the line when you write, "Honestly: all big conceptual questions “reduce to” the deletion or compression or reimagination of specific lines in the work at-hand." It's so easy for writers to tip ourselves into complete despair by making things too big--wrong childhood! Wrong perspective! Too sentimental, too bourgeois, too ignorant! or whatever we are tormenting ourselves with in the moment--but often, as you say, the cure is just to write through it and then revise through it, one sentence at a time. Thank you.
I couldn't agree more, Rachel Rose. I want to learn and learn and learn...one sentence at a time...until I croak. For me, it is the only way to really touch with purely singular ideas. I'm not trying to be someone else. As Popeye once said, "I yam what I yam."
This is what Story Club has given me over the past year or so. This process, and the sense that it lies in the lines. Thank you again, George. I got the first inkling on this from Swim, when you explained so wonderfully how to read. And each encounter in Story Club, you've made it clearer and clearer and more available.
It's a busy week for me so it took me a day or two respond to this awesome Q&A office hours. I am so aware of two things: 1) selfishly - the fact that in 24 hours or less, the comments have filled to the point that my 'brilliant' additions will be lost at sea, below waves of other brilliant comments. So be it. A nice dose of humility. 2) This club is: OMG. George is: OMG. The questioner is: OMG. The comments are: OMG. Like how can this level of insight, vulnerability and compassion thrive like this? It's a bit of a miracle. I am grateful, so grateful for Story Club, aka Therapy Club, beyond measure.
From George's answer: "Maybe, being an artist isn’t about transforming ourselves into some totally new and foreign being, but finding out what sort of being we are, and being more of that."
Amen to that! I hope some of you find this and nod your heads with joy and gratitude like I am now....
Both the question, and the answer are just beautiful. As I was reading the question I couldn't help seeing (feeling) poetry in it :) We tend to be so hard on ourselves, and complicate things. And when we read a perfectly-put together art and we assume that we are reading the (god-like/genius) writer's first draft! We don't see the background struggle, the hard work, and the writer's self-doubt. But even the best of writers go through moments/ periods of doubt. This is what I try to remind myself when I go through my moments of self-loathing. Playwright David Hare said that he had such a boring childhood that he had no choice but to invent drama. My childhood was so crazy that writing about it helped me process it (through some dark humour). There is no perfect background, or the right way to go about writing. Just writing. I loved what George said: "It all matters." And there is so much beauty, magic and truth in the "unliterary"! We only need to open our eyes and ears (and have a notebook and pen nearby)...
These are matters I think a lot of writers wrestle with. Like the questioner, I've had to come to terms with the fact that my writing is nothing like the writers I admire. They are brilliant and I am mediocre! I think one of the biggest breakthroughs I had on this front was self-acceptance. Previously, I think my efforts to write like a modernist or an impressionist or in a high-literary tone was me expressing a form of self-loathing. My real self wasn't good enough and to gain respect or admiration I had to try to be Virginia Woolf or something. As you can imagine, those efforts were dreadful. It's difficult, but I think part of the writing process involves learning to ignore any imagined reader looking over your shoulder, to ignore your desire for recognition and admiration and teaching yourself to care only about the story and pleasing yourself. This sounds counterintuitive but somehow this has helped me get past the super critic in my head. I write to please myself, first. In fact, sometimes I indulge in my basest writerly desires and then something weird and interesting emerges and, what's more, it is a true expression of who I am and the stories I like to tell.
I think that's true, that self-acceptance is key to writing deeply about things that matter. We are one of those things that matter, our lives, our perceptions, our feelings. We write out of that because that matters, and write it in such a way that it matters to others, at least other like-minded people. Writing the books I want to read is where I am now. And there's no downside to that kind of writing because I'm fully engrossed in the story and enjoying what I'm writing as I'm writing, and loving the editing process, making it cleaner and deeper and richer as it goes. Will it sell, who knows? I can't control that part, but I do know my time hasn't been wasted because I'm loving what I'm doing. And loving being in this community of writers with George and all of you.
When I was doing my MA I read The Triggering Town by Richard Hugo - quoted below. And honestly, it gave me the courage to continue. I’ve found often it’s by letting myself enjoy the melodrama I find something more satisfying and closer to truth than my original mealy-mouthed efforts. I’m not a photo-realist, after all.
‘The poem has elements of melodrama. All art that has endured has a quality we call schmaltz or corn. Our reaction against the sentimentality embodied in Victorian and post-Victorian writing was so resolute writers came to believe that the further from sentimentality we got, the truer the art. That was a mistake. As Bill Kittredge, my colleague who teaches fiction writing, has pointed out: if you are not risking sentimentality, you are not close to your inner self.’
I have another, slightly piqued comment in response to the questioner… .
You talk about Hallmark TV, Hollywood writing and you dismiss it all.
I used to do this, I used to want to be Faulkner (now I want to be Steinbeck… ). I dismissed romantic comedies and superheroes and tv as all shite.
But then i met people who love those genres. Genuinely love it, they sweat blood trying their absolute hardest to write the best Dan Brown novel they can. And the truth is, it’s not easy to do that either. It is not easy to write a Marvel film, or a sexy page turner or a superficially light but entertainingly forgettable 2 hour film or a 10 season family comedy.
It’s basically not easy to write full stop.
I think having respect for all writers, for all those people who actually finish something and then have the balls to get it published, made or seen… helps your own endeavours. Maybe they deserve a little more of your admiration, not because you like their style, it’s not your bag- it is a lot of people’s bags- but you can still learn from them. They do what they love and I take my hat off to them.
Yes. I once heard a story about a good literary writer who, tired of not getting paid, “decided” to write “a Danielle Steele thing.” A year later…he hadn’t, because he couldn’t, because he didn’t love that form and so was condescending.
We are what we are, I guess, and love what we love.
On the flip side, there's Mario Puzo, who decided to write a gangster story after struggling as an author of literary novels. I remember reading The Godfather in junior high, and my English teacher saw the book cover on my desk, sniffed derisively, and muttered (loud enough for everyone to hear), "Trash." I don't know if I'd call it great literature or trash, but I know I enjoyed it, and it spawned a couple of pretty good movies.
Emma, spot on. I’m reading a mystery/suspense book right now and love it. I loved the movie “Young Frankenstein”but also “Anatomy of a Fall.” I love stories, they don’t have to be considered literary works of genius or academy award winning.
But Young Frankenstein *is* considered a work of genius! (By me, at least.)
Yes! I’ve watched it many times. Roll roll roll in zee hay.
It was too great. Genius certainly. The shifting hump alone.
I read recently that the shifting hump started out as Marty Feldman trying to give Mel Brooks a hard time with continuity, just for fun, but Brooks liked it so much he incorporated it into the script.
My favorite character. “Hump? What hump?”
To be fair to the academy, it was nominated for writing (best adapted screenplay). And Annie Hall won Best Picture just a few years later.
But yeah, in general comedies tend to get short shrift when it comes to prestigious awards.
I was reading a craft book and was introduced to the premise for The Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty, author of Big Little Lies. Not my usual fare but decided to give it a try. Really easy to read, intriguing, and I totally know I could never write it. We can start veering into a discussion of art vs commercial fiction but why? Both are valid and entertaining and beloved! I saw a recent review denouncing Barbie as lesser art because the specter of Mattel’s involvement made it too “commercial.” I was reading the article aloud to my partner. We looked at each other and stuttered and said “but but but … Campbell’s soup cans!”
I saw Barbie twice at an actual movie theater. I never do that. It was clever, funny, and also the classic hero’s journey. What’s not to like?
i really liked it too! A LOT! Been sporting Barbie pink painted pinky nail ever since! The intertextuality to other movies, all the allusions, starting with the opening 2001, A Space Odyssey bit, it really was well done. Good movie-making, like good literature, will often pay homage to its roots in some fashion. Greta got robbed!
I know you're pretty much joking but: Greta is nominated for best screenplay, and if her movie wins Best Picture she will win an Oscar for producing. Her movie garnered 8 nominations in all. She wasn't robbed!
Adapted screenplay. Adapted from what? I think she has earned her accolades. But I still think she merits a best director nomination for the movie. It’s less a comment on her than it’s a genre issue. Look at the movies for which women have been nominated or won for best director. Serious stuff! Genius doesn’t fit the molds.
Weird Barbie— scene stealer. Loved every minute.
Have you seen the 5-minute Oscar’s commercial promo with the Barbie theme? It’s hilarious!
I havent seen Barbie yet but fully expect to like it
Go into it expecting comedy and fun. Those who were in a serious mindset kind of took it to another level, too much "thinking" going on. It's a blast, with some good messages mixed in.
I was going to analyse through a German Expressionist lens. ; )
No I would only expect a good time, I wanted to see it at the cinema but missed it, I even like all four main actors
Young Frankenstein is a masterpiece
Yes!!! I feel as though Story Club members recognize the genius of that film. "Alright I'll say it! He vas my boyfriend!!!!!"
Agreed. It's all about story.
"It's basically not easy to write. Full stop. " Those writers deserve their audiences. Amen. I think George was talking about writers who are driven not by what others want but by what is itching inside them. I have a dear friend who writes cozy mysteries. She has a huge following and when she travels, she keeps a travel blog going. For them. She makes a fine living and she's a good writer. I admire her and sometimes envy her. But wait. She complained not long ago that there were things she couldn't write about. Her audience would rebel. I protested a bit. But she said, no, she knew her readers. And I stopped being envious.
So true. Very few writers end up in the "Literature" section at Barnes & Noble, and that is fine.
Just to show you how little know, I had to look on-line to check the spelling of "Barnes" and to see if they actually have a "literature" section. They apparently do.
I’m a writer and spend my time in the literature section at B&N - and the jigsaw puzzle section!
Aaaaaargh the obsession with great literature. Why has this become such an issue?????
Thanks for this. I spent maybe 30 years disdaining TV as a somehow inferior artistic form (while at the same time liking it so much I had to do without a television to stop myself from watching it). Then the pandemic hit, and I found myself glued, nightly, to streaming services for an episode (or two) of a wide variety of television from around the world. Still felt guilty about it, though, until recently.
Recently, I started to watch Amazon Prime's "Three Body," and at the same time to read the novel it's based on, "Three Body Problem," by Cixin Liu. And I was stunned to see that the video version is not only faithful to the multi-layered plot and character arcs, but even to the dialog. It's the same thing, in a different form.
So I had to ask myself why, if I spend an hour and a half watching this series, I feel I've wasted that hour and a half, but if I read the same story in the novel, I feel virtuous.
I appreciated George putting Don Knotts into his response.
Didn't Faulkner go to Hollywood?
You’re right! He’s credited as screenwriter of The Big Sleep and must have been a ghostwriter as he has many ‘uncredited’ credits on IMDb.
👏🏽 Bravo !
Your comment reminds me of my years in cell animation–like writing, another art form that could require years to achieve completion.
When I taught special effects via the camera stand, students sometimes expressed despair at their many perceived fears of not ever "getting there". Not finishing a work. They lamented, they wanted to know how I could stand the "huge" amount of time it took to do all of those long columns of calculations for the x,y, and zoom axis-the camera movements that were intrinsic to the language of animation.
I had something to say to them, a thing that I heard stated by another instructor I knew. It's been almost 40 years since those teaching days, but I never forgot the simple statement I loved to quote for my longing animators. It was this—
"Every piece that gets finished is a miracle."
To me, truer words have never been spoken. The art that we love is not alone a product of the artist. No matter what life throws at us, how long it takes, all the art that ever is, was, or will be, will reach through the dark, like a sprout, hungry for the sun's warm and life giving power. Every seed that makes this harrowing journey through the dirt is a miracle that will not truly know its beauty until it is beheld by another. Or eaten. As the case may be.
All the same, without knowing what dark world , or wondrous joy, our artistry will be birthed into, we open our veins and pour onto our pages. Good enough or bad won't be the question.
Only this—is my truth, my honesty there, do I truly believe that a miracle is pressing up through the dirt?
If so, then there is nothing that can ever stop you from getting there. No matter how long it might take.
I loved this b/c yes, it IS all writers. B/c no matter how big or small, they got it Done. With the ### or 333 as in journalism at the end.
I’ve always loved a bit of shiny glass amongst the jewels. Pulp novels. Reality tv. The odd soap, though I havent found one in ten years. Slightly paranormal romances, thats my thing. I remember a slightly psychic dog in a Latino soap, God it was good. I think it was my gateway.
Ditto!
There is really almost nothing to add to what George has so generously written here today. What a beautiful answer to an honest, searching question. THAT BEING SAID, being me, I do have one tiny thing I feel I can add in hopes of being helpful. Questioner, you write: "My work isn’t yet good enough for me, though." And I want to say, yes. Same here, all of the time. "My taste doesn’t translate into prose." Right--I feel the same way, too. "How do I leave the false but comfortable behind?" All i can say--because I can relate to you, I know what it's like to feel "my work isn't good enough for me," etc.--is that a writer has to just keep writing. For some of us, it takes years and years and years to finally write something where we can say Yes, I did it. Keep going, that's what I want to tell you. Struggle on! You WILL get there. I know you will--your letter alone attests to your ability to string words together, to express yourself on the page. And you want it so badly--more than most people, I think. The only way to get there is through--words and more words, over and over again. It's frustrating and demanding and often a person wants to give up. But I have faith your voice willl appear to you and you will soon enough know how to tell the stories ONLY YOU CAN TELL. Thank you for your question, which I think will make a lot of people feel less alone. And George, thank you for your lovely reply.
I am once again reminded that I must simply keep writing, that writing begets writing, and perhaps, eventually, even begets great writing. But not writing because one doesn't feel good enough, begets nothing. I do need this reminder over and over, it seems...
Beautifully said, mary g.
Thanks, Sonal.
Amen sister!
Sheesh. I needed to read this question today. We had the opposite upbringing, questioner. My father was sort of a grifter, we moved over a dozen times before I entered high school, and multiple times after. My parents lacked "executive function" as I understand now, both suffered from untreated mental illness. As a family, we were evicted, or sometimes would slip out of an area after a long while of not paying rent and bills, we ran out of food for periods of time, money to go to the laundry, my school clothes were ill-fitting and dirty, I was not taken to a doctor or a dentist until age 14. I'm hoping now as an adult that I had all my vaccines.
I changed schools often. Some kids were not allowed to play at with me as I looked rough and had a foul mouth. My parents didn't care about school, they felt it was sucking the creativity out of kids, they never asked if i did homework, didn't care about good grades. My father was shocked that I wanted to go to college, tried to talk me out of it. He believed that artists should just "spring forth" from the genius within or something magical like that. I did make it to a state college with the help of a friend from a upper middle class family, also pell grants and cal grants, and I worked several jobs.
None of those experiences made me a better writer–– I read your struggles and they are also mine, except that when you have more than one job you have little time for leisure/reading, so you are way ahead of me in that regard, and probably had a much better formal education. This was my favorite question and answer, it is illuminating to me on such a profound level. We all struggle. We all have regrets and things that have held us back. Writing is hard, and sometimes I feel that I don't belong here in Story Club with my sketchy education. The thing is, I realize that many other people also feel that way, as they've alluded to that in the comments this whole time.
Here is a thought, in case it might stir something. There is occasional talk of Buddhism here, or its principles, and from what I have seen, SC is always geared toward improvement, of writing, of art, of humanity. My sense is that all who are genuine, and who try, are welcome. There is no, or little, judgement, and we are all here to learn. ‘One of our own.’
What if, in the Buddhist POV, we, or some of us, chose the family in which to appear? It could be, say, because the person needed a specific journey, for certain vitamins, say, fortitude, or courage, or to develop resourcefulness. Those born with a silver spoon in their mouth don’t have to go search for their silver. Or their journeys, this time, are different. We may never know why things are as they are.
These things take time, though, to make one’s own. The view is longer.
I believe the Questioner did mention Hermann Hesse: *Journey to the East*. Rather than becoming these artists, perhaps it would be a task, in small, simply to *be* first. Sometimes poetry, a line or two, is a good place to start.
I like your viewpoint, Brian.
Sea, you say that sometimes you feel that you don't belong in Story Club because of your "sketchy" education?? Are you kidding? You're smart & insightful & from all that I've read of your posts both here & on your site, you're a damn good writer! And "sketchy" may just have been the driver. Maybe the root of that not-good-enough/imposture syndrome thing has to do with your early life as you describe it, I dunno, I'm no shrink, but you definitely belong in Story Club, and likely a few other best places. We're all richer for your presence.
Sweet! I feel that way about all of you. I see my relationship to the questioner, in that they feel as if they've not had the "right life" or background to write well. It's interesting that we live in "opposite world" and yet both feel that. Thank you, Rosanne. You are a great writer.
Great writers are great writers no matter where they come from! They're just good people to begin with!
I feel that too, Sea Shepard! But then I think, thanks to George's generosity and the wonderful commentors here, this is the best place to address the gaps in my literary education! 😊
That’s it exactly! It’s always a good time to continue to learn, grow, read and make progress.
This is a great perspective Sea. Thank you for reminding us about something really important: We can only begin from where we are. That's it. We don't get to change any of it. So the whole thing is to be aware, to feel, to decide which step to take next. Then look around. Then feel. Then take the next steps....
You got me to read you to the end.
You belong here, Sea.
Thank you, Wren. It’s a good place, Story Club, with wonderful people.
Now that I hang around with a different set of people, a different class, just like in the story we're studying currently, I realize what parents do for their kids. In the United States, people move to certain zip codes because the schools are better. They literally move because of the schools. I remember how that blew my mind when I learned about that. I have brilliant friends who tutor other people's kids, prepare them for tests, help them do their school work, sometimes actually DO the school work for the kids. It's true, J.D.A., we'll be fine, and there are plenty of people who went to the best schools in the world but are still sort of clueless.
That’s right. We’ve had the best of both worlds. Lots of reading and lots of watching all kinds of people :)
Oh yeah my ex’s kids went to Kumon, it’s like a Japanese method Maths and English and whatever after school training.
I like George's contrasting of "sentimental" and "emotion-rich."
There's also a difference between "sentimental" and "sincere." David Foster Wallace talked a lot about how modern culture tends to promote detached cynicism as cool and hip. Sincerity is often seen as uncool, but why? There should be room in literature for the unironic expression of sincere feeling. So if you're using George's methods to steer away from sentimentality, you may find a rich vein of sincerity nearby.
Sincerity sells greeting cards and anything in television commercials. The older I get, the weepier I get. Am I feeling more, Am I more accepting of what I’m feeling and inclined to express it? Or has Madison Avenue hammered away at me for so long that they’ve broken through?
Yeah, I'm getting weepier too. Maybe it comes with age. Madison Avenue understands that we, as humans, have semi-predictable responses to things. They exploit it to sell products, but the feelings those hallmark moments elicit are real, I think.
Funny statement, it reminded me of an old film, "Apartment Zero" I think it was titled. About a guy so paranoid about his neighbors invading his privacy. The film heightened his imagined terrors about them barging into his life.
It was all in his head.
Then one day an "act of god" happened....
My god this was beautiful. Such generosity of spirit. In the question and the answer. Amen and amen.
As I like to remind my students when they struggle with this question: Alice Munro (I'm Canadian) wrote storms about living in boring small town Ontario.
Won the Nobel Prize.
I soaked this in. Thank you for your wisdom, George, which I will return to again and again.
"deletion, compression, imagination"
"It all matters...every little thing"
"The world is always vaster than we can imagine."
"the restlessness of the mind"
"what did I want and how did I feel?"
I am so grateful for your continued work to communicate with strangers...for the dialogue you engage in. I learn from what you say in conversation with others, and I draw upon what is said while I teach and write.
I love the depth and breadth of the questioning and the answering. It occurs to me as a sort of compression of an answer: look within, look without, keep alternating, write about what your characters are up to when they are not in your story, look within, look without, write out of love instead of hope, see what happens. (I vow to take this advice myself!)
PS When the characters take over and start doing things that were not in the plan, the writer mind might have finally freed itself.
I love that point. Liberating.
What does it mean to write out of love instead of hope?
My only answer to that is to read the question, and George’s answer, above. (Writing for the love of words, character, sentences, mood, meaning, paragraphs, instead of hoping for lightning to strike. It only strikes when you’re not expecting it.)
That may be a difference without much distinction,
''Every person matters; every movement, every shaft of light; every strange inclination, every twinge in the calf; every person we might normally overlook, everything that we normally consider “unliterary.”
It all matters.
Wouldn’t it be amazing, to really feel that way?’’
Thanks George I think I understand more about my issue about “What is Good Enough”. But not everything there is always more to learn. The writer opens his soul so I send him some hugs and say stay true to yourself your better than good enough.
I loved this quote too.
I really appreciate that you reframe this writer's angst and invite him to look at it on the level of the line when you write, "Honestly: all big conceptual questions “reduce to” the deletion or compression or reimagination of specific lines in the work at-hand." It's so easy for writers to tip ourselves into complete despair by making things too big--wrong childhood! Wrong perspective! Too sentimental, too bourgeois, too ignorant! or whatever we are tormenting ourselves with in the moment--but often, as you say, the cure is just to write through it and then revise through it, one sentence at a time. Thank you.
I couldn't agree more, Rachel Rose. I want to learn and learn and learn...one sentence at a time...until I croak. For me, it is the only way to really touch with purely singular ideas. I'm not trying to be someone else. As Popeye once said, "I yam what I yam."
This is what Story Club has given me over the past year or so. This process, and the sense that it lies in the lines. Thank you again, George. I got the first inkling on this from Swim, when you explained so wonderfully how to read. And each encounter in Story Club, you've made it clearer and clearer and more available.
There is so much here to appreciate but I just wanted to celebrate the mention of Dorothy Allison. Bastard Out of Carolina is a hell of a book.
That was a kick a&# book! I saw her speak at a writers conference. She was/is the real deal.
It's a busy week for me so it took me a day or two respond to this awesome Q&A office hours. I am so aware of two things: 1) selfishly - the fact that in 24 hours or less, the comments have filled to the point that my 'brilliant' additions will be lost at sea, below waves of other brilliant comments. So be it. A nice dose of humility. 2) This club is: OMG. George is: OMG. The questioner is: OMG. The comments are: OMG. Like how can this level of insight, vulnerability and compassion thrive like this? It's a bit of a miracle. I am grateful, so grateful for Story Club, aka Therapy Club, beyond measure.
From George's answer: "Maybe, being an artist isn’t about transforming ourselves into some totally new and foreign being, but finding out what sort of being we are, and being more of that."
Amen to that! I hope some of you find this and nod your heads with joy and gratitude like I am now....
What Kurt says. Again.
<nodding>
Both the question, and the answer are just beautiful. As I was reading the question I couldn't help seeing (feeling) poetry in it :) We tend to be so hard on ourselves, and complicate things. And when we read a perfectly-put together art and we assume that we are reading the (god-like/genius) writer's first draft! We don't see the background struggle, the hard work, and the writer's self-doubt. But even the best of writers go through moments/ periods of doubt. This is what I try to remind myself when I go through my moments of self-loathing. Playwright David Hare said that he had such a boring childhood that he had no choice but to invent drama. My childhood was so crazy that writing about it helped me process it (through some dark humour). There is no perfect background, or the right way to go about writing. Just writing. I loved what George said: "It all matters." And there is so much beauty, magic and truth in the "unliterary"! We only need to open our eyes and ears (and have a notebook and pen nearby)...
I read the Questioner’s words and thought “oh if only I could write like that …. (and like Faulkner and/or Steinbeck)…
These are matters I think a lot of writers wrestle with. Like the questioner, I've had to come to terms with the fact that my writing is nothing like the writers I admire. They are brilliant and I am mediocre! I think one of the biggest breakthroughs I had on this front was self-acceptance. Previously, I think my efforts to write like a modernist or an impressionist or in a high-literary tone was me expressing a form of self-loathing. My real self wasn't good enough and to gain respect or admiration I had to try to be Virginia Woolf or something. As you can imagine, those efforts were dreadful. It's difficult, but I think part of the writing process involves learning to ignore any imagined reader looking over your shoulder, to ignore your desire for recognition and admiration and teaching yourself to care only about the story and pleasing yourself. This sounds counterintuitive but somehow this has helped me get past the super critic in my head. I write to please myself, first. In fact, sometimes I indulge in my basest writerly desires and then something weird and interesting emerges and, what's more, it is a true expression of who I am and the stories I like to tell.
I think that's true, that self-acceptance is key to writing deeply about things that matter. We are one of those things that matter, our lives, our perceptions, our feelings. We write out of that because that matters, and write it in such a way that it matters to others, at least other like-minded people. Writing the books I want to read is where I am now. And there's no downside to that kind of writing because I'm fully engrossed in the story and enjoying what I'm writing as I'm writing, and loving the editing process, making it cleaner and deeper and richer as it goes. Will it sell, who knows? I can't control that part, but I do know my time hasn't been wasted because I'm loving what I'm doing. And loving being in this community of writers with George and all of you.
When I was doing my MA I read The Triggering Town by Richard Hugo - quoted below. And honestly, it gave me the courage to continue. I’ve found often it’s by letting myself enjoy the melodrama I find something more satisfying and closer to truth than my original mealy-mouthed efforts. I’m not a photo-realist, after all.
‘The poem has elements of melodrama. All art that has endured has a quality we call schmaltz or corn. Our reaction against the sentimentality embodied in Victorian and post-Victorian writing was so resolute writers came to believe that the further from sentimentality we got, the truer the art. That was a mistake. As Bill Kittredge, my colleague who teaches fiction writing, has pointed out: if you are not risking sentimentality, you are not close to your inner self.’