Twenty Years to Learn This

As a writer, I'm always interested in watching people and observing human behaviour. Which makes sense, because that's essentially what writers do. We observe and comment on what we see. But this is difficult to do that when you know everyone around you. Sure, you can observe some things, but intimacy erases separation, and separation is necessary for art.

As a result, when I'm feeling a bit burnt out, I stay away from my favourite cafes or bookstores where I'm known and go to a mall or a big bookstore where know one knows me. A place I can hide in plain sight. This form of "hiding" is necessary for my work. Here I can observe human behaviour and maintain proper distance. It also helps me think about my latest story without being intruded upon to make small talk. (I enjoy interacting with people, but not during these times. This is actually a "work time" for me.) Somewhere in this balance of observing strangers and thinking about my story, I discover who my characters are and what I'm trying to say. In this, hiding is not only helpful, it's necessary.

However, once I'm sitting in front of the blank screen, getting set to write the next chapter or the next paragraph, I must do all I can to move from "hiding" to the "spotlight." Here, they can be no running away. No part of me can be shielded or protected or exonerated. Here, I must be completely transparent and own everything that light reveals.

RELIGIOUS?

If you think that this sounds faintly religious, well, you're right. Most faiths encourage us to do the same thing. They encourage us to acknowledge the worst of ourselves so we can change. And that is the tie between art and religion, because all artists act as "prophets," whether they're religious or not.

Society has always looked to their storytellers to explain who we are and how we should relate to the world. This is why all religions are built on story. (Myth is story. And no, I'm not suggesting a particular religion is true or untrue, only that all religion is myth-based. Jesus may or may not be the Son of God (I believe that he is), but it is still a story. the same is true of Buddha and Mohammed and Moses)

Whether it is life or art, the message is the same. We cannot produce good work (or a good life) if we do not understand this simple premise. Look, it took me twenty years of writing story after story before I finally figured out that I had to stop trying to please people in my writing. That I had to stop hiding in plain sight by trying to be someone else. I had to write what I saw in the mirror, and comment on THAT. I had to stop worrying about my parents or my church or my heroes. I had to be me.

Yes, I know that sounds cliche. Trite, even. But it was exceedingly difficult for me to understand what the blank page meant. If i was ever going to have any success as an artist. I had to stay in front of the mirror and record what I saw there, just as I did when I went to big bookstores.

I had to learn and accept that good art only happened when the artist (in this case, me) was willing to expose to put themselves on display

As in art, so it is true in life. When we are willing to expose who we are, we instantly disarm people. Vulnerability is a weapon against all kinds of things, not the least of which is cynicism. Think about the people you know who are vulnerable. Pretty hard to dislike them, isn't it? Now think of some artists that you admire? Do you know why? I bet I do.

WAY TOO LONG


For nearly two decades of writing, I struggled with this. I was embarrassed about who I was and the kind of story I wanted to tell, though i wasn't fully conscious of this. I was intimidated by writers who were so much better than I'd ever be. Who was I to impose myself? To expose myself. And what if I offended people? People I cared about?

A couple of years ago, I finally let go. I stopped worrying about what people might think, and stood in the mirror for a long time before sitting in front of the blank screen one more time.

The result? In the past eighteen months, and I've written four novels. THE LAST ANGEL will be published on December 21, 2015. I don't know what people will think. I don't know how successful it will be or if anyone will even be interested in my work.

But I know this: after so many years of being afraid. So many years of worrying about what I was doing, even while i was putting the time, I finally stepped from the shadows and took a good long look in the mirror.

No more hiding.

Not now. Not ever.

The result? Everything has changed.

Everything.

Whether it's in your art or in your life, be free.

Now go get 'em.

Steve

The Battle of Every Day

Some days you don't feel it. Some days it's all you can do to get up in the morning, let alone push towards some far off dream that may or may not happen, one that numerous people have told you to forget about.

I know this because I'm having one of those days. I threw out my back a couple days ago (sleeping on my stomach). Every position is painful, and if I sit too long, I can barely stand.

Sigh.

So the the thought of editing fifty pages and writing a blog and editing some other work (we're talking about seven or eight hours in a chair) makes my entire body want to groan. Aside from the that, it's also gloomy outside, and my normal energy and excitement to write just isn't there.

But as you can see, I'm writing anyway.

One thing I've learned over the years is that there's no correlation between how we feel and the work we produce. This isn't just true of writing. There can be a myriad of reasons why we feel the way we do on certain days, and it will have no impact on our work. If anything, these are the days that I know I should be writing because I'll be more likely to take a few chances and be more honest. Gloominess hides the censor button.

None of this matters if you don't get to work, though. And pretty soon, we start making excuses on other days. Suddenly what was a dream has become a hobby. And then, before you can blink, the hobby is gone, too, and you find yourself doing what everyone else is doing. Going to work at a job you can't stand and complaining about your boss to your co-workers.

Last year, I worked at a place that caused me nothing but stress, and by the end of the year, that's exactly what I was doing. I was sitting around with my co-workers complaining about my boss.

But I was still pursuing my dream. I still had this crazy idea that I could make it as a full-time writer. That meant coming home from my paying job only to spend hours more writing, doing the job I considered to be my REAL job.

And it made everything about my life different. Society wasn't going to dictate who or what I became. Yeah, I still had to pay the rent, but after that?

My life was my own.

It's not too late to try something new. Go for it! Maybe you wrote stories back in university but gave it up when you had kids. Or maybe you used to sing in a band, but stopped because work was too busy. Whatever it was that caused you to "be normal," (A Myth. I wrote about this last week.) why not let that go and move to something more exciting.

That's not to say every day will be all glory and sun-filled meadows. I love to write, but there are days like today when, quite frankly, I want to tell my keyboard to stuff it. These are also the days that provide the greatest reward, when you see what you've overcome to get the work done.

Remember, whatever you want to achieve in life, its mostly about "the every day." And on the days you don't feel it, when you're tired and sore and are fairly certain that your brain isn't working properly, just show up. Do what you can and see what happens. Dreamers like you and I persist through all seasons, not just the nice days.

Go run in the rain, and then get back to work. You can do it.