Artists, Writers and Quitters

I have just read this article "Rejection and Reinvention" by author Tobias S. Buckell on the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America website. He talks about facing rejection, facing a lot of rejection, and continuing with being a writer and an artist anyway.

"Jim Van Pelt once told me he sold a story after 40 rejections, so I’ve always held that as my high water mark for a story, telling myself if I liked the story I would wait until I had 50 before I gave up on it." - Tobias S. Buckell

Something about Buckell's ideas really struck me. It wasn't about making editors "wrong" or "bad", and he definitely doesn't play the "poor me" card. 50 rejections before giving up on a story? Maybe that is just realistic these days, and something that every writer should expect.

What smacks me in the face is how many stories and poems I have given up on, after only 2 or 3 rejections. Having one piece of writing rejected 3 times is pretty harsh, and it makes you doubt your conviction that this really was a decent piece of writing.

Now I think, hang on, maybe I am giving up on myself and my writing too soon!

Maybe my writing deserves better than a writer that stops trying after just a handful of rejections.

Every writer, artist, story teller and designer feels this way though. We sacrifice time, love, and sometimes a lot of money for our babies -- our creative projects, I mean. When we can't sell our art, it is hard.

 You have to pick yourself up off the muddy ground, time and time again, and keep hoping. Sometimes you keep going with absolutely nothing to go on. You've never sold anything. No one has ever come right out and said you are a good writer. You just hope. You really, really hope, that success is in you.

After what seemed like a never-ending string of rejections last year, I stopped sending out my writing. Not my non-fiction -- that was still selling like hotcakes drizzled with melted Russian fudge. It was my fiction I was having trouble selling.

So I stopped.

For a few months I tried not writing. Which only achieved making me, and everyone in a 5 mile radius of me, absolutely miserable.

So I started writing again, in the way a person learns to walk again after a terrible accident. Slowly, gingerly, with small and shaking steps. I bought a few notebooks and promised myself to fill them with short stories. Not good short stories. Not marketable short stories. Just...whatever short stories needed to be written.

Nothing complicated, nothing huge. Just keep it simple, keep it easy, and keep walking.

While I fully intend to follow through with that process, Tobias S. Buckell's article has given me some decent food for thought. Writing involves a lot of heart and a lot of guts and sometimes a bit of bone, too. It deserves more than a fair-weather friend.

I'm sorry, Writing. 
I'll keep going, if you do the same. 

For other interesting articles on similar subjects, read the series "Facing Fear and Uncertainty" by Terri Windling, "Fantasy is Uni-Age" by Terry Pratchett, and "Sleeping Beauty" by Theodora Goss.

Where Are the Magical Men?

Arthur Rackham illustration. 

Recently on the blog of Theodora Goss there has been a conversation going on about "magical men" -- men who partake in mythic art, writing, music, etc. Men who see the magical, fantastical aspects to life, and attempt to converse with us (the readers, the viewers) through creative mediums about them. More to the point, the conversation is about: where are these men?

Women who write, paint, carve, sing, or communicate in some other way about the mythic or enchanted realities of life are literally everywhere. But where are the men? Some fellows, like Charles de Lint, Charles Vess, Arthur Rackham, Neil Gaiman, and Brian Froud are indeed as magical as they come. But after a few minutes, it becomes harder and harder to think of more examples of magical men.

Is it because men are less likely to be interested in fantasy and art, or are magical men less loud and visible than their female counterparts? As Theodora says, maybe it is because women feel more social acceptance to setting up Etsy shops online, or blogging about poetry. This is true -- a lot of men I know paint in private, write in private, play music in private, but don't make much of a song and dance about it. Unfortunately.

Magical men do exist, and they are everywhere. But men are not like women, in many ways. They are quiet, often humble, often docile. They don't talk about their feelings as often, and are less likely to express their deepest intimacies. When they do, through art or writing, perhaps they are also less likely to share their creativity with the rest of the world?

Never mind the burden that men face in life. I know many female artists and writers, who are able to pursue their creativity more because of the money earned by their partners/husbands. How often is a man allowed the money, time and space (by his spouse or family or society) to pursue his art more full time? Often it's OK for women to be supported financially by their husbands so they can write a novel. How often is the reverse true? It happens, but not often enough.

Arthur Rackham illustration.

Men are raised to think they have to be everything -- they have to earn the money, support their families, become successful and prosperous. I know a lot of men who feel like failures if they can't buy the cars, the houses, the clothes that other men do.

Without question, from childhood, men know they have to support themselves financially, and possibly support a wife and children. More and more women are working full-time while raising children, but for men it is rarely a question, a choice, or an option. Men simply do not feel they have the option to not work.

If you are not working full-time and doing something respectfully difficult, you are a lay-about, lazy, a leech, and possibly a "bad provider".

Is it the fault of women that men do not take part in more art? 

No, the problem is that men have to listen to their own inner drive. If they want to do more art, be more creative, experience more magic, then the voice inside their gut has to become stronger than the voices in their head telling them to be responsible/reasonable/practical. Often those voices are not theirs in origin. Whose voice is it? A mother? A brother? A teacher? A line from an old movie watched 20 years ago?

And is it a voice that loves you? Really loves you?

Let's forget about "men" and "women" and talk about "people". As a person, do you deserve to do what makes you happy? What financial and emotional support do you need, as a person, to do what you want to do?

Arthur Rackham illustration.

As a man who writes, who paints, who believes in magic, I haven't survived and thrived by being more feminine, more sensitive, more airy-fairy if you will. I would say my gifts have been sheer determination, tenacity, and stubbornness. I wanted to prove them wrong -- the voices. The ones that tell me that I can't "pay the bills with poetry". And I did. Sort of.

And so do many other men I know. Men who publish poetry, have art exhibitions, write stories, talk about astrology, and believe in magic. It is an honor to know them.

At the end of the day, only a real man with guts can give himself permission to do something fantastical and beautiful and magical in this world.

The Science of Magical Plants

My feature "The Science of Magical Plants" has been recently published in the March 2013 issue of the Australian magazine The Art of Healing. I have only finally gotten my hands on a copy of the magazine and I am super excited with everything -- the photos and illustrations are fantastic, and the layout of the words itself is clean and elegant. 

In this article I looked at plants, such as foxglove and mandrake, which have gained notoriety over the generations for their use in magical practices. Much of the lore regarding the plants went back to Biblical times, straight through to the medieval periods and late 19th century. Not only did I go into some detail of their general history and folklore, but I looked at what these plants are used for today. Many magical plants are being widely used in medical oncology, surgery, and as medications for cardiovascular problems. 

What I noticed about the plants in this article was that each of them had a dual nature. Each plant was both a poison and a medicine. Both healer and killer. Perhaps it is this twilight area of plant medicine where drama, fear and mystery sows the seeds for folklore and legend to grow from. 

This was the most fun I had writing an article in a really long time. The topic was something I felt passionately about and I savored the long hours of research required for it. After a long year of ghost writing, this project was indeed a welcome change.

Is Being A Writer Good Enough?

"The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave to it neither power nor time." - Mary Oliver

Writing is one of the most endangered, fragile professions that exists.

Not because there is any lack of skilled and passionate wordsmiths floating around. There are countless numbers of us. The reason is because there are so many obstacles to becoming a constant, prolific and successful writer. Some of the most talked about are editors, changes in the publishing world, low remuneration, deadline pressures, and people in our lives who wonder when we are going to get "real jobs".

But the worst enemies are within.

Low self-confidence, doubt, fear, creative blocks, fatigue, resentment, jealousy, etc. These are some of the enemies that live within the writer. Do bankers suffer from these internal struggles? Do gardeners, or dentists, or other people who have "real jobs"?

This morning on the way to work I talked to my partner about my confusion. Was I really meant to be a writer? What about all my other dreams? Didn't I once want to open my own natural health clinic? What about the reiki school I talked about? And the bookshop I wanted to start up? Once upon a time, I was even going to sign up for web design courses and make the big bucks.

What happened to all those dreams? All those other parts of myself, crying out for attention, for love, for time?

After listening to my angst, my partner reminded me about dharma -- the idea that whatever we are doing right now, we are meant to be doing it. Even if writing feels selfish at times, it has a larger purpose. I don't know if that is the official definition of dharma, but it is interesting, and it helped me to feel better. If I want to writer, maybe I am meant to be a writer.

And maybe, just maybe, all those other parts of myself will forgive me for forgetting them just long enough to finish this next story...

     In a time and place that is now both gone and forgotten, there lived a young stick of a boy, who lived all alone in a tower by the sea cliffs. With no one to talk to and no family to look after him, he would go down to the rocks and forage for his meals. He pulled seaweed from the rocks, caught crabs and shellfish from the thick mud, and once in a while, harpooned fish with sharp pieces of wood. 

And when his belly was full, he would write. He wrote all his words on the paper he could find, and when the paper was all gone, he wrote on dried leaves and curtains and on the stones in the walls. People, families, friends, they lived there in his poems and stories. He could hear their voices in the corridors, behind the mirrors, and even in his dreamless sleep...

The Need for Creativity

It's been a while since I last posted, but I have been a busy bunny.

In the past few months I have taken up full-time work at a natural health store in the city where I live. It is a mixture of retail and something close to pharmacy. People come into the store and tell me what their problems are, and I see if I can help.

They have a cold, I recommend some supplements or nutrients for their immune systems. They are stressed, so I recommend maybe some Bach flower essences or herbal medicines to relax the nervous system. They are getting muscle cramps at night, so I advise magnesium tablets, etc.

It's good work.

Unlike writing, you have constant face-to-face contact with the people you are trying to reach and support. You get feedback too. I love feedback. It lets me know if what I am doing is working or not.

Though I have recently been published in The Art of Healing Magazine, Organic NZ Magazine, and The New Zealand Journal of Natural Medicine, these articles go out into the void and I never know if they have made a difference to the readers. But I do hope.

Asides from this good work, I am focusing once again on my poetry. After a long string of rejections in 2012, I am picking myself up off the kitchen floor and getting back into it. Rejections are hard. Every creative knows this. While at times it feels like a slap in the face, it is good for us. Or me, I should say. It reminds me that whether I am successful or not, good or not, publishable or not, I still have to write.

Why do I have to write?

Not long ago I had coffee with a friend of mine who is currently in employment by the local council. It's a good job and she worked long and hard to get there. But now she has little time for her creativity -- her botanical painting, and her knitting and sewing.  She told me, though, that she can't just give up because she has no time. Creativity, the will and drive to make something out of nothing, is in her -- and it is not going away.

I was glad to hear her say this, because I feel the same!

For the last few years the drive and passion for writing and storytelling has gripped me. It will not let go. And please God, don't ever let it. After a few weeks of no creativity, I start to bunch up inside. I snap at my partner, bark at our dogs, snarl at customers (well, on the inside, sometimes) and just feel downright cantankerous.

A few moments of pure, unadulterated writing is all it takes to transform me back into the zen-like creature I like to imagine I am most of the time.

Recently this all took place. After a few very long weeks of working over-time at the shop, I was feeling rather Orc-ish. One night after hissing at my boyfriend over something significantly trivial, I took myself off for a late night coffee and a session with my notebook.

Instead of writing about how bitter and terrible my life was, I started writing a story. It was a small story, a cute story, about nothing in particular, just a man searching for something -- I have yet to finish the story though, and find out if he reaches the end of that journey.

But that one night opened up the dam again. Ever since I have been writing pages and pages of notes, poems, stories, quotes, lists, etc. It helps. It helps so so much. I need it, the way a bubbling pot of newt eyes and bat wings needs the lid taken off once in a while to let off some steam.

I don't write because I want to be a writer. I write because I have no choice.

If it doesn't make life easy at times, it makes it interesting.

And isn't that better?

Small Things That Quicken The Heart

When the spirit is feeling a bit blue, sometimes it helps to eat something bright and alive, from nature. 

If you have a garden, picking fresh flowers and salad greens for lunch is sure to quicken the heart. 

Here is a mixture of calendula, borage, nasturtium, and fennel from my garden. 

What a delicious mixture to add to a pot of rice and tuna!

This week has been incredibly difficult in many ways, but it is the small things that make life worth living. Something as simple as a special, fresh lunch can be enough.

Freelance Writers New Zealand

Just a quick shout out about this!

Even in New Zealand, a relatively small island country, it is possible to feel quite isolated and alone as a freelancer. Working at a home office means that you don't get to chat to workmates, you don't get to get together after 5pm, you rarely have the opportunity to network. With very little in the way of associations and groups that are accessible to everyone, I have decided to start a Facebook group: Freelance Writers New Zealand.

While many groups online have fallen way to self-promoting of services and products, Freelance Writers New Zealand is designed to be purely a community for connecting, learning and sharing. We can't all get together all the time, sure, but that is no reason not to be able to connect with others -- especially in this day-in-age!

Besides, as freelancers, we need reasons to procrastinate.
Right?

If you are a Kiwi and you have a blog, send out the odd article, or work as a full-time freelance writer, please check out the group and feel free to join!