Why I Write
It seems that I’ve written about a septillion essays titled “Why I Write”. It’s a common interview question. It’s something I’ve mulled over for years.
Why do I write?
I’m going to be honest. It’s tempting, in the secret hyper-ego part of my brain, to write for the praise. To get those 5 star reviews. I’m telling you, a good review is a rush. Having someone say good things about my stories feels super good. Like chocolate and coffee and sunshine. And it’s very hard NOT to write for all of that.
It’s also tempting to write so that I win awards. So that my name is known throughout the world. So that Finkbeiner can be mispronounced by the greatest literary critics of our time. We all want to be known on some level. It’s very difficult to NOT write so that people will bow to my fame.
Oh. And the money. Wait. No. There’s no money in writing unless your name is Stephen King. And that’s not my name. So. Yeah. The money is no motivation.
And, one more thing, I fight the urge to write for the sole purpose of publication. What? Seriously? Yes. Publication is necessary for me to continue writing as much as I do. It’s imperative that my work is published in order for people to read it. But publication isn’t the ultimate joy and rainbow unicorns that some assume. If writing is hard, publishing is 20 times more difficult/stressful/terrifying. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a published author. But if I never publish another novel, it won’t make me less of a person.
So.
Why do I write?
Because I love stories. I love reading them and writing them and dreaming them. I love sharing them with others. I believe that story reaches a place within us that can’t be touched by numbers or hard facts. Story moves us, brings joy and hope and empathy.
I write because I really, really love people. And I want to encourage them. Help them. Show them a piece of the world…of me…of themselves.
I write because it’s how I figure life out. It’s how I pray. How I worship.
Because the stories don’t stop coming. If I tried to stop, I would be a woman haunted by fictional characters, begging to be brought to life on the page.
I write because words are pretty.
Because the world is full of ugly and beautiful and I want to show that any amount of light can displace darkness.
I write because God lets me.
All the other stuff is good and fine for other people. Publication. Fame. Awards. Money (still laughing that people think it’s gainful employment). But those things aren’t good enough for me.
I write for love. And as cheesy as that may sound, it works for me.
Why do you write? Or paint? Or strum a guitar? What is it that motivates you?
3 Rejections That Made Me Smile
Wednesday I blogged about how to deal with rejection. Go ahead, you can read it. Click HERE.
I wanted to tell you about the 3 rejections that made me smile. In fact, that made me a little giddy.
1. When I finished the very first draft of Paint Chips I naively thought it was ready to be seen. Ugh. I seriously want to smack myself in the face for thinking that it was polished. Anywho. I sent query letters (in the biz, these are letters asking agents and/or editors if they’re interested in our project), proposals (basically an overview of the work, the author’s street cred, and is worse to write than the actual novel…I’m not kidding), and sample chapters (typically the first 3 chapters) to agents. 11 of them. I received 11 rejections.
One stuck out.
It wasn’t long. Only about half a page. And it was, without a doubt, a rejection. But the agent said this…
Did you see that? I have flashes of good writing. I HAVE FLASHES OF GOOD WRITING!!!!! Yeah. He also said the novel needed work. But the flashes are there!
Jeff thought I was off my rocker at how I danced around the house after receiving this letter.
And, yes, I keep this letter in a very safe place. It’s one of my treasures.
2. After many, many, many revisions to Paint Chips, I had a book contract with WhiteFire Publishing and was looking to add an agent to my career. I queried an agency that is in my city. The answer I got back? Not now. And what did the agent say?
“I believe in your writing”.
Wowza! Really? Wow!
And, guess what! I signed a contract with her as my agent last fall. Her name is Ann and she’s one of my favorites…she would be even if she wasn’t my agent, though. She’s fabulous.
3. This week, I received a rejection from a BIG publishing house. I was bummed, but not enough to feel like crying. My skin is becoming thick as raw hide. An editor that I deeply respect had done his work, passing a proposal and sample chapters of my novel (the one I’m writing now) around. No bites on it. But then that editor told me that he had faith that I would find a home for the story.
His words prodded me on, made me want to write the best story I possibly can.
Rejection isn’t fun. It isn’t something we necessarily want. However, it can be a turning point in a career. A life. It’s all in the way you look at it.
Hey, I’ve got a give-away going on…You could win a signed copy of My Mother’s Chamomile for you or someone you think is pretty cool. Click HERE to enter!
Aw Snap…Mother’s Day’s Coming!
It’s the Thursday before Mother’s Day. Are you like me? Did you totally forget that it was coming? I do this every year…it sneaks up on me!
Do you need a few bookish ideas for gifts? Well, let me give you a few ideas…and a GIVEAWAY!
For the mom with a slight coffee habit…
For the historical fiction loving mom…
For the history buff mama…
For the mom who always dreamed of Vikings…
And…of course…
In a rush? You can purchase just about any ebook to give as a gift…
Want to shop at a regular old store? Well, if you live in West Michigan, you should go over to Baker Book House. They have a vast selection of great books, jewelry, music, movies, t-shirts, Bibles…everything you can think of. They also carry copies of Paint Chips and My Mother’s Chamomile.
If you are in another region that doesn’t have a Baker Book House…{sob}…I am sorry for you. But you should find a nice, local place to find gifts.
Have fun picking out something special for the women in your life who mentor, love, nurture, and prop you up!
And, to make up for being SO LATE in remembering Mother’s Day…how about we do a GIVEAWAY!
Go ahead and click this Rafflecopter link, do the various fun things to enter, and you might win a signed copy of My Mother’s Chamomile for you or someone you love! I’ll announce the winner on Sunday…Mother’s Day!
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Have a great day!
Yoda. Snooki. Stephen King. And Dealing With Rejection.
Last night I learned that an editor declined to publish the novel I’m working on. No. No. No. Don’t feel pity for me. Don’t. I’m fine! Seriously.
This isn’t my first rejection. It won’t be my last.
Rejection is part of the job. It’s in the package deal. I knew this going in and I accept that it will be a common occurrence in my career.
I’m not saying that I’m jumping up and down and celebrating it. That would be insane. But, over the years, I’ve learned how to deal with the “no thank you” letters without binging on chocolate and flooding my house with sobbing.
That may or may not have happened after the first rejection I ever got.
So, here you have them. I hope they help you…
1. Recognize that it stinks, but don’t roll in it. Yeah, it’s not the news you wanted. It stinks pretty nasty. And you’re going to smell it for a couple days. But if you dwell on it, roll around in it, you’re never going to be able to get away from it. Plus, everybody around you is going to smell it on you…and they won’t want to be around you all that much. So, look at it, recognize the stink, step around it, move on.
2. “Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.” -Yoda. Okay, so you’re disappointed, maybe a little hurt. But don’t let yourself get angry. Or bitter. Or hateful. Editors are people. Good people. They don’t deserve to be the object of anger or hate. So, don’t ever, ever, ever confront them. NEVER. Can I say that again? DON’T YELL AT THEM! It’s just not cool. Oh! And don’t internalize your anger, either. When you get angry after a rejection (at yourself or somebody else), you’re just going to be miserable. Then you’ll be rolling in the stink (which really should be a Weird Al parody, right?). And see #1…nobody wants to be around that.
3. Yeah. Snooki has a novel published. So what? Before Paint Chips was published, I suffered a good deal of angst over Snooki (from The Jersey Shore…she’s a party girl…and…well…honestly, I don’t know much about her other than she was an MTV star for awhile). I also bemoaned that, “Other people who aren’t as good at writing are getting book contracts”. I spent time boo-hooing and feeling sorry for myself. So much that one day I was sick of myself. Let Snooki have her novel. Don’t read it while eating sour grapes. Just don’t. Her career is hers. You’ve got your own novel to write. Or song to perform. Or…whatever. But don’t hate someone else for their success. See #2 and #1.
4. “I get knocked down, but I get up again. You’re never gonna keep me down.” -Chumbawamba. Don’t quit just because you get a rejection. Get up. Make sure you don’t step in the stink (see #1). Keep going. Repeat.
5. Add the badge to your letterman jacket. Okay. So you don’t get a varsity letter for it. But just go with it a second. A rejection is a badge of honor. You tried! You put yourself “out there”! You were brave! Stephen King has more rejections than you, I bet. So does J.K. Rowling. The Help was rejected 60 times! One rejection is a step in the right direction, if you ask me! Maybe it’s better to think of it as a battle scar. It makes you look tough. Be proud.
6. Get back to work. Give yourself a day or a couple hours or whatever to be sad. That’s okay. It’s normal. But don’t forget that you’ve got a job to do. Get to it. And make sure you’re doing the best you can. Remember, just because one editor said “no thanks” doesn’t mean another won’t embrace the work.
Speaking of work…I’ve got to go. I have a novel to write.
The Story of Paula and John and the Book That Was Sold
My buddy Bruce Matthews told me a few months ago that I should start reading Wendell Berry. So, I ordered a few of his books, used, from Amazon.
My copy of Hannah Coulter arrived in pristine condition. Then I got the copy of Fidelity.
I noticed that, about half-way in the pages was a gap. I flipped through to that section and found a hidden treasure.
A NOTE!
Like any good novelist, I read the letter.
It was addressed to Paula on October 3. Which October 3? I don’t know. But the paper is crisp and the fold lines aren’t worn. I figured it was pretty recent. The copyright on the book is 1992…which seems pretty recent to me (until I realize that was the year I became a freshman in high school. Ouch).
The letter writer discussed the literary merits of Wendell Berry. Recommended that Paula stick with his fiction rather than his essays. Mentioned that the book would be waiting for her when she returned from Amarillo.
I wish I knew Paula and John. Wish I could return the book to one of them. But then I realize that this book has more history than I know. That it was sold for a reason.
Maybe Paula disliked Wendell Berry.
Or she had a falling out with John.
Perhaps she died, leaving a vast estate of books.
Or there was a bankruptcy and she needed a little cash, selling off everything quickly, forgetting about the precious letter from John who loves her. (Oh! That’s a good story for Nicholas Sparks, huh?).
What if the book got buried under a pile of mail while she was gone in Amarillo? She didn’t notice it for years (is she a hoarder???). When she finally did, she never noticed the note from the man who loved her…the man who only, in this note, made it known in his way.
What if…what if…WHAT IF????
This book by Wendell Berry promises Five Stories written by the literary master.
But it has another, stuck with care between the pages. The story of Paula and John and the book that was sold.
It Takes Courage
I’m pretty much a scaredy cat. In fact, I’m afraid of cats. Truly. Even little kitties. I’m also afraid of sharks, rats, spiders, lice, skunks…among other assorted nouns.
I’m frightened by those tubes of crescent rolls. Those stupid things really shouldn’t be so inconsistent in their explosions. I get dizzy when I’m in high-up places. Crowds make me nervous.
Okay. This isn’t a confession blog. Suffice to say, I’m a lily-livered, yeller-belly, coward.
Problem is, it takes courage to be a
Mom
Wife
Friend
Daughter
Sister
Aunt
Cousin
Writer.
So, how does this faint-of-heart girl make it? Hm. That’s a good question.
I could wax theological. Could give 5 steps to becoming a more courageous person. I’m sure there’s a meme somewhere that would work perfectly, nestled in this post.
But I’m not going to do that.
I’m just going to write the truth. What works for me. It might not work for you. But it might give you an idea of what will…it might prod you a little to find what does work.
Here’s how I, a gutless girl, make it in all that I do.
I just keep going.
In Scripture, Paul calls it pressing on for the prize. And that’s what I’m trying to do. The prize isn’t publication. It isn’t well groomed children who get all A’s. It’s not a beautiful house or a perfect marriage.
The prize is doing what you’re given to do. And doing it as an act of worship, of thanksgiving to the One who gave you the work in the first place. The prize is being called a good and faithful child of God.
In my writing life, I’m working on a novel that doesn’t have a publisher yet. I’ve had moments of paralyzing fear over that.
But I keep writing.
In my home life, I have three kids who are wonderful, but who are becoming more independent every day. Nightmares visit me, telling me all that could happen.
But I keep parenting.
In the world, bad things happen every moment of every day. Sometimes I think I’ll crumble under the grief for what others are capable of doing to each other.
But I keep living and praying and trying to act justly and love mercy and walk humbly with my God.
Whatever you have to do, whatever it is that scares you…don’t let the fear defeat you.
Keep going. Keep living. Keep loving.
Press on.
It takes courage to be who you were made to be.
Silence is _olden…_olden…U_h!
Monday mornin’ our electricity went out. My laptop suffered a power zap. It’s in the repair shop.
That’s why I’m so quiet.
It’s also why I am usin’ my old laptop. A laptop with a broken key. ABCDEF_H…
You see what I mean.
Thus the silence.
I should have my MacBook soon.
In the mean time,
Enjoy this…
Drought — Short Fiction
Today I’m rushing around, preparing for a speaking engagement. No time to blog. So, here’s a little short story from my archives. Good for this rainy day. Enjoy.
The sun scorched grass prickled in her bare feet. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. As she walked across the yard. Just a couple steps to the fence. To the shady spot under the old tree. She never could remember what kind of tree it was. Just knew it was big. And that when it stormed she feared it would topple down and crash into the roof of her house.
“Storm,” she thought. “Wouldn’t mind a good storm.”
Some kind of bug landed on her foot. She kicked her foot in the air to make it hop away. Locust or grasshopper. She never cared to know the names of insects. Never mattered much to her.
“Ain’t been no rain round here in so long,” she said out loud. Hearing her own voice caused her to start a little. It’d gotten so deep and rough over the years. “All that smokin’ makin’ me sound…
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Reading in the Chaos–5 Ways To Sneak In The Reading
Last night on Facebook I posted that I’d finished book #31 on the Jon Acuff Empty Shelf Challenge.
Within moments, my high school friend Susan VanSyckle had posted on my wall.
Fair question. Here’s my quick answer.
I just do.
Now, I’m not going to get into why I read so much. I wrote about that in a blog a few months ago (you can read it HERE).
However, I am going to tell you the 5 ways I make time to read. Susan, I love that you used the word MAKE not FIND. If I searched, I wouldn’t find. However, making is an intentional act.
1. I Always, ALWAYS have a book with me. You never know when you’ll have 5 minutes here or there to read. Waiting rooms, pick up lanes (for school, not night clubs), lines at the grocery store…we all spend a lot of time waiting, don’t we? Use that time to get a chapter in!
2. I read while cooking. I’ve done this for years. It keeps me from over-stirring the food. Plus, it’s comfortable to read while standing. I’ve memorized my kitchen so I don’t have to take my eyes off the book to grab a spoon…just so long as the knives are facing the right way. Oh! And I’ve never burned anything doing this.
3. I rarely watch TV. I know myself very well. I can get pulled into a TV drama/comedy pretty quickly. That can be a big time drain for me. So. I just don’t watch much. If I do, it’s Saturday Night Live or The Daily Show/Colbert Report. But those viewing times are rare and usually after I’ve done a big day of writing and need to numb my brain a bit.
4. Well…this…
5. I read with my kids. A lot. So far, because of school reading/assignments, I haven’t posted any of our “together reading”. But this summer, I’ll make a point of reading chapter books to my kids at lunch every day. It’s one of my very favorite things about being a mom. Also, that said, I never feel guilty reading around my kids. They see that reading is important and, because they witness me reading, they see it as a positive way to spend time. Besides, they’re always welcome to approach me. I might make them wait until I finish my paragraph first, though.
How about YOU? How do you make time to read? What are you reading right now?
Power of the {Handwritten} Word
You know what I love?
Well, there’s a whole laundry list of things…oddly enough, laundry isn’t on the list of things I love. Hm.
One thing that is on that list is a thoughtful, handwritten letter.
As a person who loves words and the meanings behind them, I feel especially loved when I get a letter in the mail. It far outweighs an email or Tweet or posting on Facebook.
A handwritten letter or note means that someone is willing to give a little of their time to swirl the letters on the page. They are making themselves a little more vulnerable than they do when typing. After awhile, the reader becomes familiar with the penmanship, knowing who wrote it without having to see the signature.
It’s an art that has long been neglected. It’s something I am working and resolving to bring back into my life.
Last night, my friend Kristy sent me a message. She told me that she was rereading a book she had in high school…almost 20 years ago (ouch….ouch…ouch). Between the pages she found a note from me…
“Kristy, Where are you? My life is not worth living w/out you! Come back soon because otherwise I will go even CRAZIER! I love you a lot, Sooze”Neither of us can remember where Kristy went or how I got the note into her book (although, we didn’t have locks on our lockers…would that make them no-lock-ers?). However, we both got a smile out of her finding the note now. Years later. With many movies and career changes and life events.
19 years after I wrote that note, it still had power. Not because I wrote it. But because it captured our friendship, the love we still have for one another. We have history. I’ve known Kristy since 1st grade. The grade my daughter is in now (oh, wow…). If I could, I would thank 17 year old Susie for writing that note to Kristy. It reminded 36 year old Susie that she has a few letters to write today.
How about you? Do you handwrite letters? Who do you write to? Is there someone who might appreciate a letter from you? It’s so worth it!
ALSO, there are several beautiful books written in letter form or with snippets of letters within the chapters. One is Goodness & Mercy by Patti Hill. It is one of my favorite novels and is only $2.99 for Kindle and less than $12 for an honest to goodness paperback. Do yourself a solid and buy that book.
susiefinkbeiner.com 