Dear Wondering Writer,
I see you. Sitting at your desk again. Cross-legged on the window seat. Under your favorite tree, or perhaps in it, your toes hooked around the branch to bring balance your precarious body. You’re staring again. At the screen. The page. The ether. Wondering.
I’ve been where you are. I’m sure I’ll be there again some time soon. Wondering if all this work, all this solitude, all this ink and screen time – is it really worth it?
I hear you. I see you. And here’s what I have to say to you.
For the writer who thinks, “But I could be out there doing so many others things,” I say this: Of course you could be. And perhaps, sometimes, you should be. And for a time, you probably will be. But if you find yourself constantly returning to the writing desk – the phone Notes, the journal hidden under your bed, the bookstore so you can marvel and dream and find yourself inspired – I encourage you to admit that while you could be “out there doing so many other things,” maybe this one thing you’re taking so much time to do, pouring so much of yourself into is the one thing you ought to be doing after all.
For the writer who asks, “But will I ever be successful?” I say this: Before you get stuck in the “pipe dream” of international fame, New York Times Bestsellers, Pushcart Prizes, movie rights and all the things that you might think make a writer “successful,” I encourage you to take a moment to breathe. Pause. Ask yourself what success for you looks like. Some of us will become and attain all that I just listed – and more. I know a few people on these paths. And I know many more people on the less publicly renowned, but in no ways less remarkable, paths. The parents who write stories on construction paper for their children. The grandparents who write memoirs for their grandchildren. The independent publishing houses who give a small-town writer a chance to see their work in print. The blogger whose words guide a lonely internet browser at 3 a.m. The author who creates a middle grade series that never hits the “big time” but gets onto a school library shelf and tells that twelve-year-old that rumors don’t define her. Success is only impossible to attain if you let others decide what it looks like for you.
For the writer who worries, “But I’m missing out,” I say this: Yes, you might be. Committing to sitting at your desk, clacking at your keyboard, dedicating hours of your life to your writing means that there are things you will miss out on. Writing takes wisdom; wisdom to know when it’s okay to sit down and when to step away. I encourage you to treasure the moments you have with your loved ones, doing other things you love (or have to do), taking care of your own mental and physical well-being – and treasure the reality that you are a writer. Your stories and words are something the rest of us don’t want to miss out on.
For the writer who groans, “But my ideas aren’t worth anyone’s time!” I ask this: Who told you that? What voices have you been listening to? What lies have you been entertaining? Your life is worth living and so your story is worth telling. The world may be inundated with books and short stories and blogs and poems, but I stand by my words: Many may have come before you and done what you’re doing now, and many may come after you and do what you’re doing again – but no one ever has or ever will do what you do in the way that you do it. Your story is yours; you can always choose whether to share it or not. But never let anyone make you believe that you – or your words – are worthless.
And for the writer who wonders, “How can I keep this wondering at bay?” I say this: The wondering will never completely go away. Even the most acclaimed and successful admit to experiencing things like imposter syndrome and self-doubt. It’s part of being a writer. It’s part of being human. So while the wondering may never fully dissipate, I have found a few ways to battle the doubt when it arises.
Remind yourself of your “why.” This is a journey in itself and your “why” often changes as you grow and mature and experience different life stages. Find your “why” and cling to it. Write it down, post it on your refrigerator, set it as your phone background, so that in the moments you desperately need a reason to write, you have one. And a darn good one too.
Have people in your corner. I’ve met enough writers to know we can be prone to self-degradation and debilitating existential crises. The only way we get out of these useless mentalities and philosophical loops is if a hand not attached to our own arm pulls us out. Create a network that will support you in your dreams and writing endeavors – not mindless cheerleaders (this isn’t high school), but people invested in loving, encouraging, and growing you as a writer.
Write anyway. Sometimes the best way to remind yourself how much you love writing is to do it. I myself put off writing this post because of all the other things I could be doing. But now that I’ve sat down to write it, I remember that I love writing. It’s love that brings me back to the keyboard; but I’d forgotten that until literally just now.
Have grace for yourself. Writing is a glorious, spectacular, exciting venture. It’s also terrifying, burdensome, and exhausting. Be gracious to yourself on the days when the words don’t come or the crumpled notebook goes flying across the room. Those days will come; and then so will others.
For all of us writers wondering if it’s worth it, I say this: Yes. How do I know? In the words of Sean Thomas Dougherty, “because right now, there is someone out there with a wound in the exact shape of your words.”
Martha Brown
Katie
Lee Brandt
Katie
Al Smith
Katie