Carolyn Haley is a writer, editor and artist (as you’ll see below) and we email back and forth every now and then. She sent me the following email in response to my post about 4 Bits of Advice for a New Writer I thought it was a great letter, capturing the sense of “becoming” a writer and she agreed to let me post it here.
Carolyn wrote:
I come from a family of artists, and in my youth I was very good. It was assumed by everyone, including myself, that I would progress steadily and successfully into an art career, probably as an illustrator, since that was where my talent so obviously lay.
Then I went to art school, and my intentions came to a screeching halt. I learned that the craft of art required training and discipline and emotional one-step-removed-ness that I simply wasn’t willing to embrace. I wanted my art to be mine-all-mine and utterly free to come and go with my emotions. I could not function under commercial conditions.
From that point (age 18), I began a long-term shift toward writing and editing, because I had a native talent there, too, and could accept and apply all the training/discipline/removal/etc. that I couldn’t do with art. So I slowly but steadily advanced in that field. Meanwhile, my art fizzled out, until I stopped completely on my 35th birthday (20 years ago).
Yet the artist urge remains and surfaces once in a while. I still consider myself an artist, because that urge as well as the gift lies within me, whether I use it or not.
About 8 years ago, I attended a local event called “Art in the Park,” which was a pretty standard outdoor arts/crafts show with myriad booths reflecting myriad arts — painting, photography, textiles, pottery, etc. And like at most such shows, the artwork was, well, pretty lame. I browsed through it all, thinking snobbily to myself, “I can do better than that,” over and over again, as I’d done all my life.
That day, though, an important mental shift happened. While I was wondering why so many second- and third-rate artists were ringing up sales, the answer came down like an anvil from the sky: “Because they’re doing it.”
It didn’t matter one whit to the universe whether these artists were “good” or whether their customers had “good taste.” The artists were making art, showing it, pitching it, investing in it — and reaping the rewards, meanwhile making other people happy with their work.
Whoa. What did that say about me? Nothing good I wanted to hear, that’s for sure!
So, from that second turning point, I focused my writing efforts on Getting Out There. I’ve since published two so-so books, a whole bunch of pretty-good articles, some occasionally great/occasionally dreadful catalogue copy — all of which has earned paychecks and a few positive reviews (no bad ones yet, keep fingers crossed!) — along with volumes of content for online forums. Concurrently I’ve built a freelance editing business which, combined with my writing, has built a small following and advanced my career to the point where later this year I will be an invited presenter at a conference!
While I am still a long way from being a great writer and editor, I’ve learned so much and gained so much just from doing it. My experience as an artist serves both my creative endeavors as a writer and my technical development as an editor because I know what it’s like on both sides of the fence, and I’ve gained a huge respect for all work that people are brave enough to create because they took the time and energy to try. I continue to be judgmental about quality — my right as a spectator to like what I like — but also I’ve learned to be tolerant of and patient with content — other people’s right to be what they are and do what they want, at whatever level.
What really matters is (1) doing it and (2) continuously striving to do it better. And put it out there.
Which loops me back to why I find your advice essay to be spot-on.
*******
Carolyn Haley can be found on the Net
Carolyn Haley’s books / New ways to see the world
DocuMania / Production support for editors, writers, and designers
Adventures in Zone 3 / Living at altitude in Vermont’s Green Mountains (yard and garden blog)
Comments