Dec 12 2008
Don’t Be Afraid to Experiment With Your Writing
Creativity demands experimentation.
But many of us are afraid to experiment. In school we learned that experimentation is dangerous. Most test questions had only one right answer. Even with essay questions, we had to provide the specific information the teachers wanted to read. Experimentation would have gotten us flunked.
If you want to become the best writer you can be, you have to be willing to take the risk of experimentation. Will you fall on your face? Sure you will. Possible several times. But if you stay with it and faithfully pay attention to the whisperings of the muse within you, you will eventually write what only you can write in the way only you can write it. Then you will be a true writer.
Don’t be afraid to fail. In any creative pursuit, failure is the price of eventual greatness. You are not a student in a post-graduate school, where they boot you out if you fail one class or one test. Nor are you an airline pilot or brain surgeon. For them, experimentation and failure can be fatal. You are a writer. For you, the fear of experimentation and failure is fatal.
Think of other people in creative fields, such as inventors. Thomas Edison failed 1800 times in his attempt to invent the light bulb. One success at the end of so many failures brought lasting fame to him and light to the world.
My son was a sponsored snowboarder. One day, when I told him to be careful and avoid falls, he said, “Dad, if I’m not falling, I’m not progressing.”
Novelist James Joyce wrote, “A man’s errors are his portals of discovery.”
Push yourself. Experiment. Fail and try again. Explore new territory in your writing. From where you are now, you can’t know where your commitment to fearlessly push your writing forward will take you. But you can be sure it will be well worth the trip.
PS. In my last post, I invited all of you to share an excerpt from your journal with the rest of us. Come on – don’t be shy!
Journal? No I have never kept one. I either just sit down and write what I feel at the moment or scribble an idea on a scrap of paper, a napkin, bubble gum wrapper or whatever is handy. I have, at my age, memories. Some sad, some funny and some frightening. I write mostly humor as a way of supressing some of my demons. If I can laugh about them now, they are less painful. My dad was a wonderful man. Hard drinking Irish and life long military. I miss him more than I can say but rather than dwell on that I write about all of his funny stunts such as riding the baby’s big wheel and his girlfriend falling off the sofa at granny’s funeral. Is this an entry in a journal? Perhaps not but, it is an entry in the journal of my life and my heart.
I have been writing since I was 6 or 7, for 36 years I never wrote anything extraordinary, and, although it gave me pleasure, I felt none of it worthy of trying to publish. Within the last year I have been experimenting with my style, the way I write things and just what I have to say. At long last, my writing has begun to have some sparkle. It has been a long road, but that experimentation has given me the confidence to try and sell some of my work. I have had failures, but I’ve also had some small successes. Thank God for experimentation!!
The other day I was remembering what an idealist I used to be. My heart would bleed over all the suffering, pain and ugliness in the world and I longed to do something about it. I became a hospital volunteer in my early teens and later on joined a group that was fighting against discrimination and poverty. As a nurse I tried to ease the pain and loneliness of many of my patients struggling to get better or just learn to accept their fate in life. The concept of a better world was an important part of me.
As I grew older and grew up, reality crept in and overtook idealism as I sadly put it to rest with all my favorite things. The understanding being that the two could not co-exist. It was either/or. Face reality…..be real……Look at life realistically. These were the banners that took first place. Sure, there were moments when I caught glimpses of ideals floating around in my head but reality can be overpowering. So often we associate idealism with youth and irresponsibility and sand castles in the sky. A time for searching for answers and self identity and a higher purpose. Striding into Adulthood we face the challenges of everyday living and practicality and food on the table. Getting a job, having money to maintain a lifestyle or not, striving for stability becomes the name of the new game.
Reality tends to take the shine off idealism and we are left with a monochromatic view . Disillusion is part of the package. Yet it is not so grim as it sounds. It is good to be able to see the difference between the two and know that opening yourself to what is real can be a valuable and special experience. It makes you strong. Accepting your limits and being happy in spite of it. That is what I have learned at the knee of reality.
Well, the other day I had an AHA! experience. I came to the realization that I was still an idealist! Reality and idealism did co-exist within me. Theory without practice or practice without theory does not a good life make. All those years my ideals were lighting the way for the real things that make me who I am today.