#ArtistTherapy: Falling Out of Love, with Your Project

"What? Oh that? I'm not working on it anymore. I don't love it, and I'm on to something new." Soon after I left grad school I worked steadily, made a weekly writing schedule and everything, on a novel/novella about a working-class British guy coming to the States for school and falling in love with a well-off African American girl. As you can imagine over the course of their relationship things got complicated.

Colin and Leslie were the main characters and it was a dual POV story. I got through the first draft, then workshopped portions of this work with groups I found online. I went overseas for the inaugural Pan African Literary Forum to get feedback for the first couple chapters. Then, I'd say more than a year, perhaps two years after I finished the first draft and even after acquiring advice from an agent on it, I found myself irritated and downright disgusted with my characters. Why the hell was Colin with Leslie? What the f*** was Leslie's problem? Colin was such a great guy! The ambivalent ending left some in agreement and others wanting a definitive answer to their relationship. When I went back to revise their love story I didn't have the energy to figure these two twenty-somethings out. I was in my twenties. I was engaged and later married. I was working full-time and had my own crap to deal with on a personal and professional level. Who was I to be writing about these two? Who would want to read about these two obnoxious people? Were they even suffering?!

And that, is how I fell out of love with that project. A project I have never looked back on, though I do have the compendium of files and drafts of the time I worked on it in a folder on My Documents drive.

It happens. You have this awesome idea. A thought that may actually make you jump out of your chair or bed and you start to scribe it down. You may start with scenes, an outline. You may start sketching what you think it should look like or how it sounds. The initial fury of needing to get this thought on paper can be a fantastic burst of energy and pride that can have you working for hours, days, weeks, months, and years on end...if you love it.

As a creative person, and especially as an emerging artist who is not making money off this but treating it as a kind of unpaid job you hope will pay off later on (maybe not monetarily specifically but psychologically/creatively), you hope that this will be the thing that gets you noticed. This new love will be the project that gets you into residencies, awards you grants, lands that agent or that publisher, will get the notice for a show to happen, will spread the word so that you are "The Next Big/Best Thing." However, some things may factor into your progression:

1) Critiques: As mentioned before the right (or wrong) critique can get you amped up to continue (or deflate you enough that you stop and second guess yourself). For the Leslie/Colin book I was getting critiques that were supportive and helpful. But did I want to pursue the revisions necessary to really tackle these people? No.

Which brings me to:

2) Passion: Most initial projects will require a lot of work. No one becomes a master through osmosis. (Man, how I wish that weren't true.) Do you see yourself growing with the work? Do you see yourself delving in and taking the time you need to make it a better/stronger piece from what you first envisioned? And once you do finish, will you be able to set it down for a bit and revisit it later on to further correct or improve upon it? Should you begin to submit your work will you have the fortitude and skin to take rejection? Unfortunately there'll be more barriers than open doors to get a work published/publicized. And if you love it, if you truly believe in what you produced you'll see it through to making this project the best it can be in your own hands. Did I have the passion/will to continue on with Leslie and Colin's romance? Again, no.

I have friends who have spent a decade, more than a decade, a couple decades on work because of their belief in it and love for it. Even bumping against rejections or assurances that what they are doing is seen as important and a good addition to the creative realm they have fought to make their work known in some form or fashion.

I'm not saying something you love should take a long time, but if it does and you're still committed to it that says something about your tenacity and willingness to grow as an artist and the space this project takes in your heart that you'd want to (through the good, enlightening, bad, and horrendous moments) continue on with no assured positive outcome. All you need is the knowledge that this work is important to you.

Do I start projects that I fall out of love or lose interest in? Of course. Do I have the projects I love and have remained committed to 'til the end? Absolutely! There will always be that idea that, like other things in life, "seemed good at the time" before it fizzles out into no man's land. But if you have the right support to move forward and you have the drive to make this happen you won't fall out of love with your project--probably out of like when it gets hard--yet the love will remain. Promise.

#ArtistTherapy: Elitism in the Arts

"I write genre, but some say that doesn't count as 'real' literature."  I'm not going to lie to you. There's a divide in the art world as a whole. Look at contemporary artists and abstract artists. Look at pop music and classical and rock and (insert genre here). It's weird and divisive and feels as though it shouldn't exist, but it does.

A couple years after I finished my MFA, I went to my first writers conference. Here, each writing group was their own sect. There was the novel group, the poets, the nonfiction/memoir people, the short story people, and the writing for children class. During a group outing of conference participants I went up to some of the writing for children ladies and informed them of how much I enjoyed their reading the day before. They looked at me with open expressions of surprise. I had noticed how they'd been keeping to themselves. How they rallied with each other and didn't tempt to talk to the other genres, but the same could be said for those not approaching them. While the poets, nonfiction, and fiction writers were intermingling the young adult/children's writers were holding tight. I was in one of the short story workshops and had enjoyed their lively reading of their work. It intrigued me and sounded really good. The ladies and I had some pleasant conversation and they gave me a ride back to the dorms. On the car ride home they admitted that they felt out of sorts and not taken as seriously. They were writing for children. To them they felt others didn't respect them as much as the novelists and short fiction writers and thus felt set apart. Which to me was a damn shame cause their work merited respect.

When it comes to "genre" fiction which includes young adult, science fiction, fantasy, thrillers, mysteries, and such, sometimes these can fall into the "literary" category and sometimes not. (And mind you categories are really tools for the publishing/business aspect, not so much for the writers.) Yet it is interesting the vitriol you can feel from someone noting that you are ignorant in what they like and thus they do not respect what you enjoy. I had a critique group member blast me for being a female who did not read (enough) science fiction and thus felt I could not properly comment on his work.

So what can I say to this? I'll take a queue from what I heard at an AWP panel last year on marketing your book. Plainly and with no sarcasm the panel moderator replied to a question about whether one should worry if they upset their publisher should they hire their own publicist. The moderator's response: "F*** 'em."

If you like writing stories that include dragons. F*** everyone else and write it. If you like a hint of magic in a tale about a  family dealing with grief so be it. This is your work. It's no one else's. In the end the work will have your name on it. It will be touted as yours from beginning to end and you'll thank some additional people (or many additional people) who helped you along the way. But the good, bad, and ugly you hear from others will be targeted to you about what you created. Would you want to put out something you didn't enjoy to fit into a mold that is not inherently part of your creative process? Is that a no? Yeah, I thought so.

I write stories I'm interested in whether they be flash/short fiction, novel form, young adult, adult, literary, speculative historical, thrillers, or an amalgamation of all these. Whatever strikes me as the right form is the right form and I write it because I enjoy it and feel like that is what works for this particular piece. When I was applying to graduate school and as I apply to residencies and conferences I know where certain things fit. I do know that for the most part the literary works of contemporaries like Zadie Smith, Junot Diaz, and Chimamanda Adichie will be the type of work committees are looking to provide time, space, and money to write. I understand that if I tried to send out my speculative young adult thriller to Yaddo it may very well be tossed away because it's not "literary." But that doesn't mean that there isn't a place for this manuscript. Both projects, not just the young adult book or the story collection about race and family, both are works I am capable of creating and loving and wanting to promote as a source of growth for myself.

We all have our strengths and our passions, so don't allow a larger opinion of what "is" and "isn't" art define what you create and how proud you should be of it. Look at authors like Annie Proulx and Stephen King. Yes, one is making a hell of a lot more money than the other and one has a Pulitzer to their name. And if you presented both to a specific crowd one may be lauded way more than the other. One may be considered the best of their generation and the other boring or melodramatic. But both King and Proulx have a way with description. They have a way with creating characters that stick in your mind long after you've placed their tomes down and moved onto something else. I dare you to find one story or even a passage by either Proulx or King that doesn't strike a nerve or play with form and presentation and style and genre even. I dare you to not find a Stephen King piece that doesn't hit home on a larger scale or a Proulx piece that doesn't freak you out a little.

So, in the end, "f*** 'em." Make what you love and you'll have the respect of those who appreciate what you've created.

Powerful Short Fiction that Inspires

If you listen to recent reports short stories are apparently making a 'come back.' Collections are being nominated for more literary awards and winning them in instances as well. Most recently George Saunders collection Tenth of December was on multiple BEST lists last year. I don't think short fiction is making a resurgence per se, rather it's being acknowledged again as a powerful form of writing that is accessible, and, short. Short stories are what are often heavily studied in graduate programs and most often what is encouraged for critique in workshops because you can presumably review the whole thing in a session whereas a longer work would need a longer parsing for feedback and analysis. I'm entering year 7 of working on my linked short story collection and have been reading more short stories to get inspired by form but also by technique and the way the writer attacks characters and a subject. I see what works for me and what doesn't and the conciseness that can feel complete in a short story is something that does need to be studied and is helpful in all forms of writing.

So, here's a list of short fiction that bowled me over and that has definitely helped me to see the possibilities in the truncated form.

• "Brokeback Mountain" by Annie Proulx - If you compare the story to the movie (or vice versa) you'll feel like you've gotten a full glimpse of the life of Ennis Del Mar and Jack Twist. Proulx's story is a bit long at 30 or more pages (typeset) but it spans a whole romance/lifetime. In as much as a paragraph Proulx manages to capture the physical details, emotions, the entirety of a meeting with Ennis and Jack so that you as reader feel as though you've watched a drawn out scene. To me, this story is one of the pinnacle showcases of a beginning, middle, and end. It encapsulates both men's struggles. Proulx succinctly describes people and actions with details like "indian burn" to a moment of strife and that's all you need. Silence is a powerful component as is brutality and "Brokeback Mountain" explains so much without being overdrawn. In the acknowledgments of her collection Wyoming Stories, Proulx notes that short fiction is hard for her, yet looking at this story in particular it seems as though she's a master of the form barely breaking a sweat.
• "Cry, Cry, Cry" by Sherman Alexie - This story is hilarious with heart. The narrator reflects on his drug addicted cousin, watching the steady decline of a family member, and how he may have betrayed him. Alexie is great with brevity as well, providing snapshots as unique as "Shit, we got fake Bloods fake-fighting fake Crips. But they aren't brave or crazy enough to shoot at one another with real guns. No, they mostly yell out car windows. Fuckers are drive-by cursing." Mixed with the wit and wavering of a man not knowing what to do because he's expected to stand by his family out of obligation even when he knows it's bad for him and his soul. There's a connection to the voice and to the cousin from the first line and the pacing is perfect speedy yet languorous in the way you move through this world.
• "Hurt People" by Cote Smith (One Story Magazine) - This was one of the stories that stuck out to me when I subscribed to One Story and I still have it to this day. Surprisingly this was Cote's first publication. To me this was a perfect story, a dark story, and a well-told story of two young boys left to their own devices. The title itself elicits not-so-good thoughts and from the first lines of seeing the dank living circumstances of these boys and what type of person their mother is has you clinging to the hope that they'll be okay. Smith makes you care for these characters from the start which is immediately effective and masterful for an emerging writer. I'd urge you to look up this story and read it because it's a testament of how you can find your voice.
• "The Things They Carried" by Tim O'Brien - Whether you're an English major or not you've more than likely read this story or the entire collection by award-winning writer Tim O'Brien. The reason for this is because of the tie-in. The description of each character by what they take with them in a time of battle, what represents them and what doesn't. What keeps each character going and how it can weigh each man down in various ways of what they may lose, have lost, or are scared of losing. The clipped illustrations are the most powerful part of the anthology by O'Brien, being in the muck and crap of these men and knowing that some won't make it. It's a story that has so many brilliant pieces you can't just choose one. To me, "The Things They Carried" is like a crash course in short story writing. Each line necessary, each one providing so much weight and promise. It's freaking brilliant.
• "Good Country People" by Flannery O'Connor - O'Connor is considered one of the best writers of short stories. And it's understandable why. Her stories tend to be bleak, but real. Her characters are always alive and what I love most is her first lines, especially in this story of noting how a character had two methods of operation "forward and reverse." The briefest of descriptions that gives a reader everything they need to know about a person straight off the bat. I'd encourage you to read all of O'Connor's fiction because her stories rarely go where you expect them to, and while characters may surprise you it's never out of context of the world she's built.
• "The Pura Principle" by Junot Diaz - It's things like "The Four Horsefaces of the Apocalypse" that stick with you in a story like this one. Looking at the last months of his older brother's life the narrator notes a relationship of his brother and a woman who is downright toxic while also doing a balancing act of the brothers relationship and the mother/son relationship as people disappoint, just downright hurt one another, and deal with forgiveness knowing that time is short. Diaz's voice is distinct and confident and clear in all his prose and to me he just gets better and better.
• "You Never Knew How the Waters Ran So Cruel So Deep" by Roxane Gay - I noted that Gay's debut was one of my fave reads of last year. And one of the stories I pinpoint is this one, that is a list. With 3 columns titled Date, Item(s), and Price, Gay reflects on the lengths a man will go to find freedom and take his wife there and how much he loses. It starts off hopeful and as the reader sees the price and items the list keeper tracks it becomes more and more realistic of how hard this voyage for freedom will be and whether the relationships that seemed tight initial will hold by the time you reach the last row.
• "Great Rock and Roll Pauses" by Jennifer Egan - Another visual story that breaks the mold of story telling is short and really relies on a brevity of text and the graphics of a PowerPoint presentation to fully convey the relationships in a family that is troubled but not in trouble. The PPT is created by the teenage daughter who is witnessing it all and providing a journalistic play-by-play of her autistic brother, overworked father, and doting mother as they navigate how to get through a cruel world and the narrator sees how much weighs on her parents, her father specifically as a medical professional.
• "Speaking in Tongues" by ZZ Packer - "Brownies" is the Packer story often found on BEST lists but I think this one is a standout from her debut Drinking Coffee Elsewhere. It's one of the longer stories in the collection and to me the most roundabout. In it a teen girl named Tia in search of her mother believing the grass is greener on the other side. Of course some stuff ensues and she gets entrusted with prostitutes and older men and her own sexuality (and ignorance of it) before realizing that she was better off in a world dictated for her than the one she thought she could navigate. This is a story with a journey that the character goes on that is rough at times and realistic and would also have some tsk at Tia's actions yet understand them all the same. This piece feels utterly complete.

Those are just some of my suggestions. I have a few more story collections to read on my shelf (many in my to read queue) and many lit mags to delve into so that I can find and learn from more to come.

#ArtistTherapy: On CPs and Sensitivity

"I can take criticism." Even I've convinced myself that I can totally take whatever is thrown at me after a dozen years of participating in workshops/critique groups. After a classmate in undergrad said "Shame on you for writing this! You're better than that!" made me break down and cry at age 21, I swore I'd hardened up.

After getting comments from critique partners (CPs) that was racist "I assumed everyone in your story was from the Bronx because they're Black" or "I don't believe the cleaning lady should be White, maybe Hispanic?" to unhelpful "I don't read literary but I like this" to the person giving feedback looping around to their own work "See, what I'd do in this type of story is..." to the silence in my MFA fiction workshop being so abundant I swore I heard crickets, I'd thought I was pretty much okay to take whatever was thrown my way. After dealing with CPs for months if not years who gave me what I didn't need I learned how to give others what they did need. BUT, that doesn't mean something won't jump out and hit me in a tender spot every once in awhile.

When you find the right group of people who enjoy your work and get what you're trying to do you have a sense of security in knowing you are good, beyond good even! I consider this on par with being a Big Deal in high school and once you get into college you are no longer the top of your class but may even be struggling to meet the demands of a new environment. This feeling does not leave you. You may be the prized writer in undergrad or grad school but once you start submitting your work to agents you may find the consistency of rejections shocking.

This is not to deter you but to provide the tough love component/educational moment we artists should accept. There are A LOT of artists in the world. I live in NYC. This is one of the epicenters of where people come to be artists. I think once you take this into account it can be a bit easier to take critique because what you're doing may not be the most original but that doesn't make it bad and it doesn't mean what you're creating isn't unique.

Back to sensitivity. You acknowledge that you are one of many. You understand that the art you make is good, you are passionate about it, and you will continue to create. Fantastic! You have your group of people to help you improve and maintain. Another check mark. However, maybe in your most recent group meeting the group you have felt so comfortable with was not enthused about what you submitted.

Deep breath. Okay. Remember, this is helpful. You want to improve. You want to know what's wrong so you can fix it. Another breath, slow nod. Brief smile. "Alright, hit me with what to fix." And then you see it, the boredom in the face. You hear it. The terseness in the voice of someone unimpressed and wanting to get it over with. What you are perceiving is someone who is mad. You have made someone mad! You feel yourself shrink and wither in your seat. You're taking in what's being said and others may be countering what one person thinks with their own observations giving you a push to work on this because there's something to be salvaged! Yet, once all is said and done what have you heard? The bad.

So, you have your thoughts and they're running the gamut. You have a lot to consider but you are overwhelmed and let's be honest a tad bit upset if not really upset. Understandable. Your art is personal, it is an extension of you. You created this and want others to appreciate it as much as you do. So, if you are upset, peeved, emotional, what do you do? Do you curse your CPs out? Do you go fetal and not create anymore? Do you suck it up, invest in lots of chocolate, and binge on Game of Thrones? Do you take a few days to wallow and then suck it up and move forward with edits?

I would suggest, if you were hit in that tender spot you didn't realize you had, you contemplate how you feel and what you need from your CPs. I left several workshop groups because I was not getting what I needed. I broke off relationships with CPs because I was giving and not getting, and I was not the right partner for others because they did not like my work. While at the same time realizing how I could be a better CP and also reeling it back to me more thoughtful if/when I said something hurtful to a fellow writer. Like any relationship it has to be filled with mutual respect and understanding. And there has to be communication. If, after this particular critique session, you're a bit shaken about your craft that is normal. Not everything you create will be a hit. Junot Diaz has said he still gets a bit of trepidation when releasing a new book because he doesn't know if those who loved his last book will even like his new one.

However, if you note that your CPs are not giving you what you need then this isn't you being overly sensitive. And if someone says you're "being sensitive" because you're a woman then you definitely shouldn't associate with them anymore. If you find that your CP's terseness was unacceptable then let him/her know. Let your group know that what you need is not to be handled like a stray, but to be get feedback with less 'tude. "What I need is...." There's no shame in admitting this. It'll help you and won't strain relations. But if someone is yelling at you like that lady in undergrad did to me (and I can understand passion but sometimes that gets confused with straight up anger) or simply NOT giving you feedback or constantly noting things they'd prefer to see than what they do see in your work, then, oh well, this ain't working. And again, it's not you being too sensitive. This is just what you need.

I'm not even delving into agents, publishers, lit mags, and so on. I'm focusing on your peers. Those people who you trust to see your work at its most raw stage and help you polish it off and shine. If the respect isn't there it needs to be established or you have to find new CPs. If every critique hits you hard than that's something to explore. I've met writers who after someone said something like, "I really like what you did here and would totally read this story because the world you created is so fun, but maybe the character can a bit younger because kids at this age don't believe in fairy tale characters" has lead to that person seeing ONLY the bad part of that statement. Zoning in on the bad is not good and this is what adds to sensitivity. If you only see the negative you may get stuck and it's easy to be stuck. Remember the last post on non-forward movement? It's very easy to not be creative.

I can't promise you'll be less sensitive the more you get feedback. I can't say that the wording will always be what you need it to be or that you'll meet fantastic, caring CPs from the start. What I can say is that if you find the right ones you'll improve by leaps and bounds. If you find people who give you what you need and you give it back you can enter into a relationship that can last longer than most marriages these days. And that, after a while, you may notice the feedback doesn't hit you as hard as it used to.

Side note: Back in 2010 (yup 2010), I wrote a post on writing groups & workshops. Here I listed workshop etiquette as well as links for places to find workshops (free & paid). While some links may be defunct now I'm sure a few are still around.

#ArtistTherapy: The Comfort of Non-Forward Movement

Artist Therapy (#ArtistTherapy) is a new regular post I'm doing on my site once a month. I realized after going to residencies, conferences, and hanging/venting with my critique partners that there are aspects of the creative life only other artists understand. And it can be a real source of comfort to relate this along with others who get it. No matter what stage in your career you're in we can all relate to wanting to pursue our art and the travails that can prevent you from doing so both real and imagined, both psychological and tangible. So, this serves as a springboard for artists to know that they're not alone and is hopefully also a source of solace. Feel free to share thoughts, ideas, questions, stories, etc. It's all Sharing is Caring in this neck of the woods.

"I haven't written, drawn, composed, photographed, danced, etc. in (insert timeframe here)."

I equate this with being in the shower. You hesitate to leave it. You step in with prickled skin from the chill of your home and then you're swathed in (hopefully) hot water that increases your temperature and becomes a place of comfort. It's warm and safe. No one is asking anything of you in the shower (I hope). You're alone, and maybe you don't get those moments enough. You're only thought is of getting clean and staying warm and the mere concept of stepping out means you have to deal with life. You are not ready, yet! People out there will want you to do stuff! You remember the cold and how quickly that'll settle over your skin negating all the work of the nice, comfy, warm shower. No, no, no.

Creating can be like this also. It can be a source of consolation and/or detriment. Sitting at your desk or in your studio means you have to face the work and what it represents. It means you have to make something and then ultimately show this to people. Offer your work up to others for critique, comment, analysis, or even validation. And if you're not used to it, hell even when you are used to it, it can be daunting and simply easier to not move forward and put it off.

There's also the aspect of being blocked and having to face what may be giving you difficulty. And having to face that, some bad prose or that rogue slash or that misstep or bad key, can be devastating and debilitating to the point you will quote Kimberly Wilkins and say "Ain't nobody got time for that" then scuttle away to where it's nice and safe, perhaps your couch for TV watching or your computer desk for Netflix/Hulu Plus or even outside where you can say doing fitness is helpful--right, right?--rather than be creative.

I'm not going to scold you and say "Sit your ass down and create already." I could. For some tough love may prove quite effective while others may be as shifty as a squirrel and run away to less pressure-filled pastures. I'm not going to say "Take your time" either because that, for some, can be an excuse to take ALL the time in the world and the next thing you know it's New Year's Eve and you're wondering what the hell goals you accomplished beyond opening a gym membership and perhaps giving up drinking 5 times a week. (I dunno, insert whatever resolutions/goals you may have had/have.)

What I will say is that some of the best advice I've received is from Tayari Jones, who said, "Nothing will happen if you don't write the book." This is the truest advice one can give anyone. You won't get any pleasure from being creative if you don't try. You won't get any benefits if you don't do it. You damn sure won't get published or see your piece in a gallery if haven't made anything. But some may look at it simply as: You can't get rejected and you can't perceptibly fail if you don't enter the race in the first place. However, I conceive of failure not in not winning a contest you submitted for or getting that grant/fellowship/residency. I consider it a kind of stasis where you never gave yourself the chance to win. So perhaps looking at the benefits of forward movement and not the detractors can help you to take action. For some failure is not an option and if you're continuing to grow as an artist, to learn what does and doesn't work, what avenues are right for your work, who understands you, what you represent than how is that failing? How is it not being successful to strengthen aspects of your craft in which you become more solidified in your style and voice? If the fear of failure is preventing you from moving forward, scratch that crap from your mind. Failure is not an option and if you're doing what you want and trying you're not failing. Trust me.

The other avenue is that of being inhibited by many things such as being a parent (perhaps a single-parent), being unemployed so that the act of finding employment consumes your time, being in an overall bad place that is more tangible and seeps into your mindset preventing you from continuing. In cases such as these there's not always an easy answer. But I would suggest that you dig deep and do what you can. Even some scribbling of a paragraph is making headway. Finding the community you need can help by leaps and bounds if you're overworked, underpaid, and not stimulated at all outside of your professional life. As someone who works 7-days a week both in a full-time job with freelance work to pay off debts that have been placed on me by a soon-to-be ex I can understand the parallels of trying to balance the creative and the professional and remain afloat and sane. It's not easy, at all. It's hard, and it's draining, and there are times when you're ready to breakdown. Something as small as spilling soup in my company microwave almost set me off under the strain of so much responsibility that seemed never-ending and just when you think you've come up for air your head gets dunked back in the water. But, like I said, you dig deep. You find confidence. You get assurance. And you approach the chair, studio, instrument and you take it step by step, word by word, stroke by stroke, line by line. Do not push yourself to be great. Just allow yourself to go with what is happening and see what develops.