Something in the air
Nov. 14th, 2006 02:17 pmI didn't realize there were so many discussions on LJ today about quitting and failure and moving on. I was having a talk with myself over lunch in-between bouts of writing and it was about this very subject. When I logged on after lunch, I was surprised to find everyone else dovetailing my thoughts. I started to write an essay in someone else's space about this subject and decided I'd fill up my own space instead.
The thing is, I'm constantly asking myself if I want to quit. I try never to use the word "should" because should is almost always a pejorative—somebody else trying to impose their judgment on someone else's behavior. "You should do this" is tantamount to saying "This is the way I do it and anything else is unacceptable." So I try never to tell myself or anyone else that they should quit if such and such a circumstance doesn't come about in so and so amount of time—or whatever. (And if I ever do, you should let me know about it.)
But I do ask myself if I want to quit.
So far, the answer has always been no, and probably always will be. I need the writing. But do I need the validation of publication? That's a separate issue, although until the last few years I thought I did need that validation in order to be "a real writer." I'm not even close to being through with striving for publication, but something of an epiphany has happened inside me in the last year. I don't need the dream of publication as I once did to make me feel "real."
What makes me feel real is to keep pushing my own boundaries as a writer, to take on writing challenges I think are beyond me and push through to the end, come what may. Sometimes that works out, sometimes it doesn't. I'm not going to kid you and say that failing at something that's challenging feels any better than failing at any other sort of thing. There is no consolation for me in, "But at least you took some risks!" Failure hurts. But I'm not afraid of failure, not any more. Failure does hurt, will probably always hurt—but fear of failure is the surest way I know to choke down the Muse. Once you choke the Muse, you're done—you might as well quit. And I'm not ready to go there. I'm going to keep taking chances and pushing myself into strange and difficult terrain even if no one in the publishing business ever gives a damn.
It's what I do, it's what I have to do. It's what I love to do.
Random quote of the day:
"Don't wait for the Last Judgment. It takes places every day."
—Michael Bishop, "The Door Gunner"
The thing is, I'm constantly asking myself if I want to quit. I try never to use the word "should" because should is almost always a pejorative—somebody else trying to impose their judgment on someone else's behavior. "You should do this" is tantamount to saying "This is the way I do it and anything else is unacceptable." So I try never to tell myself or anyone else that they should quit if such and such a circumstance doesn't come about in so and so amount of time—or whatever. (And if I ever do, you should let me know about it.)
But I do ask myself if I want to quit.
So far, the answer has always been no, and probably always will be. I need the writing. But do I need the validation of publication? That's a separate issue, although until the last few years I thought I did need that validation in order to be "a real writer." I'm not even close to being through with striving for publication, but something of an epiphany has happened inside me in the last year. I don't need the dream of publication as I once did to make me feel "real."
What makes me feel real is to keep pushing my own boundaries as a writer, to take on writing challenges I think are beyond me and push through to the end, come what may. Sometimes that works out, sometimes it doesn't. I'm not going to kid you and say that failing at something that's challenging feels any better than failing at any other sort of thing. There is no consolation for me in, "But at least you took some risks!" Failure hurts. But I'm not afraid of failure, not any more. Failure does hurt, will probably always hurt—but fear of failure is the surest way I know to choke down the Muse. Once you choke the Muse, you're done—you might as well quit. And I'm not ready to go there. I'm going to keep taking chances and pushing myself into strange and difficult terrain even if no one in the publishing business ever gives a damn.
It's what I do, it's what I have to do. It's what I love to do.
Random quote of the day:
"Don't wait for the Last Judgment. It takes places every day."
—Michael Bishop, "The Door Gunner"
no subject
Date: 2006-11-14 11:31 pm (UTC)So I have to try and learn to write for ME, first and foremost. Be happy with what I create - and we'll see where we go from there :)
no subject
Date: 2006-11-14 11:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-14 11:45 pm (UTC)That's only true when the speaker is very rigid and narrow-minded. (This is also a little asymmetrical, since the first deals with what to do and the second with how to do it.)
If this is the answer, why would you be asking yourself if you want to quit, or should quit? If insanity is doing the same thing the same way and expecting a different result, why keep asking yourself the question over and over if you're not expecting that there might some day be a different answer? [Not to call you crazy, or anything. :-)]
no subject
Date: 2006-11-15 12:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-15 01:06 am (UTC)I'm kind of coming to the conclusion that it's one of those big, intangible steps that we all must learn to take in order to 1) not drive ourselves crazy, 2) not quit and be miserable.
no subject
Date: 2006-11-15 01:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-15 01:09 am (UTC)I'd say should is always a value judgment when one person levels it as another. If I say, "I should have tried harder," that's a value judgment against myself and all well and good. But if you said it to me, even with the best of intentions, it's still you laying your judgment on me.
why keep asking yourself the question over and over if you're not expecting that there might some day be a different answer?
Because the questions does keep coming up again and again. It's one of those things writers and artists do to themselves--perpetually wonder about shoulds. Should I quit? Should I try this or that? Should, should, should.
no subject
Date: 2006-11-15 01:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-15 01:16 am (UTC)Well, that's my experience anyway :) Everyone has their own.
no subject
Date: 2006-11-15 01:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-15 01:26 am (UTC)Whenever I think of quitting, there's always the matter of what I'd to fill all of the extra time... and I always decide on writing, which sort of defeats the purpose of quitting.
Such is life.
no subject
Date: 2006-11-15 05:54 pm (UTC)Such is life.
Indeed. I guess we've been given a life sentence. :-)