If the title of this post snagged your attention, good! It was meant to. Actually, I fudged a bit on the truth here…for effect. It really wasn’t Oprah who saved my life, but Oprah’s magazine, and it was my writing life, not my life life. To be specific, it’s the July issue that worked the magic on me, the one on newstands now, the one with Oprah peeking coyly over the top of a yellow book. Here’s what happened.
You see, I’ve been feeling bummed about my writing recently, wondering what the heck I was thnking when I decided some years back to write the family history of my paternal line–the Parrotts. I’ve done tons of research, have THREE file boxes jam-packed with well-organized material I’ve gleaned from libraries, the Internet, and expensive research trips to the Parrott ancestral lands. I have written several chapters, which are still mostly in the rough draft stages. Since my writing classes ended last month, I’ve dedicated blocks of time to really focus on my writing, struggling all the while with niggling guilt that drives me to wonder if my time would be more effectively spent elsewhere. When people ask me what I’ve been doing lately, I feel uneasy telling them I’ve been writing. I always suspect these people wonder who the heck has the luxury to spend her time writing and, worse, wonder who I think I am anyway…a writer? Cough, Cough.
My doubts have multiplied lately because my writing hasn’t been going well. I’m trying to put my Parrott folks in the historical context of their times, and it isn’t easy getting in all the relevant historical facts and still keeping the story interesting and personal–about them, and not a textbook about the beginnings of Virginia, Tennessee, and Ohio. I keep struggling with tone and point of view. Should this be chatty and informal, or more serious? How much should I inject myself into the story, using the “I” to explain my interpretation of things? Originally, I had planned the book for a larger audience than my own relatives. In my current mood, I’m thinking maybe I’ve been aiming too high.
Last week I snatched up a copy of Martha Stewart’s new cupcake book and made two of her recipes. I feel happy and creative when I’m in the kitchen. I even think about the next recipe I’m going to make when I’m exercising in the morning. You always hear that success comes naturally when you do what you love. I love to bake. Can I honestly say I love to write? No. I love having written…when I’m happy with the result. I’ve loved the rare occasions when everything’s clicking in my head and the ideas and sentences that evolve from them flow through my fingers in a seemingly seamless stream of clarity and genius…or so I like to think. But on the whole, I find it all rather grueling. So, while I was making my last batch of cupcakes the other day, I was thinking my college years may have been more productively and joyfully spent at the Cordon Bleu cooking school instead of at UCLA majoring in English.
My pity-party was going full blast when Oprah came to my rescue. I sat down for lunch and opened her magazine to the literature pages, the first section I usually read. Turns out page 120 focuses on writing, and how writers do it, and how they struggle to do it well. Here’s a quote from the first article, by Jim Shepard, that began to breathe some life into my deflated psyche: “When writing is going well, it’s hard, and for most of us, most of the time it’s not going all that well.” Amen. I’ve read this kind of stuff before from other writers, but I needed to hear it again from someone else–today!
Shepard goes on to make this monumentally helpful observation: ”When students ask, ‘When did you know you might be a writer? How did you know?,’ one of the things I tell them is that they may be designed for that life if (a) they need to do it in order to feel good about themselves, even though (b) doing it almost never makes them feel good about themselves.”
Bingo. Lightbulb. That’s me! Maybe I don’t have to throw in the towel and admit that my life has been a waste. I just need to keep plodding, accepting that misery and doubt go with the territory, that it’s normal. Heck, I can do misery if I know it’s normal.
If you can relate to anything I’ve said here, do yourself a favor and buy the magazine. There are some encouraging words from Toni Morrison after Shepard’s article. And if Shepard and Morrison don’t lift your spirit’s , Oprah has an article about finding the right ”Have you lost weight” dress–something I’ll surely need if I keep making Martha’s cupcakes. Here’s a thought: Writing is more slimming than baking!
It’s all that misery.