Ready or Not?
Ready to be a writer? Which would you like to hear first--the good news or the bad news about your chosen vocation or avocation? Let me start with the positives. As an artist, (whether you paint with words, color, or musical notations), you most likely think more fluidly and originally. Kay Jamison, professor of psychiatry, says, "When we think of creative writers, we think if boldness, sensitivity, restlessness, discontent -- this the manic-depressive temperament." This is a quote from one of my very favorite books: Or Not to Be, A Collection of Suicide Notes by Marc Etkind.
...Or Not To Be
In the book, Kay Jamison also says, "I think wanting to write is a fundamental sign of disease and discomfort. I don't think people who are comfortable want to write." She speaks collectively of the creative temperament with its tendencies toward brilliance and depression. Every artistic coin has its flip side. In the essay "The Madness Behind the Music" (hit CTRL-A on your keyboard to see the hidden letters), R.D. Laing is quoted as saying, "Schizophrenics create some of the truest art because the mad are more closely in touch with their inner selves than are the sane."
So how do you provide for the balance of artistic expression and the tendency to want to play violin across your wrists with a sharp wand? You write about it. I like to offer exercises in my class that allow students to tap into their pain and write about what they are emotionally hungry for. Writing deeply means encountering the demons within. Just as an example, when I am writing a story, and I am stuck, I ask myself, "Who or what character am I avoiding?" Then I go there and welcome the part I'm resisting into my life and onto the page.
What Do You Hunger For, What Gives You Pain?
Next time you're beyond upset and having what I call a cyanide day--if the pills were around you'd take them--try putting your emotions on paper. If you write them out, somehow, magically, the charge behind the emotion lifts. I guarantee you that the negative feelings will return, but for a time there is peace. How many parents have said about a child, "I could have killed Johnny or Janie today?" Chances are that parent, by venting these feelings, is harmless. I'm more worried about the Ted Bundy's of the world who seem like the perfect neighbor or coworker until the tragedy happens and the coroners are counting corpses.
When I'm sad and can't seem to get the tears to flow, I watch the movies that give me the greatest pain and allow me to cry. My top two tearjerkers are: Field of Dreams and The Bridges of Madison County. Crying is not easy for me -- I resist tears. But by allowing myself to believe I can get through to the other side of the pain (even though it feels like I never will at the time), I can soothe myself. You can, too. Even as I'm writing this I'm afraid. I don't know who is reading this. I am revealing myself and this was, at all costs, what I was taught I never should do. If I can do this, then you will get through the painful moments as well. That is the good news about being a writer. One reason I believe my workshops are so effective is because they give students a chance to share and experience each other's pain or story. There is a comfort that comes from realizing we are not alone in our artistic grief. There is plenty of company out there. But in this technological age we are more inclined to sit in front of our computer than visit on the front porch with a neighbor. It's hard to find a community of like-minded hearts and souls. I like to aid in the discovery process.
Additional Reading: Antonio Preti, MD & Dr. Kay Jamison