The Aura of a Writer

At university, my daughter was stopped by a friendly, random stranger to ask if she was an athlete. Surprised, my daughter wasn’t sure how to respond. She loves sports and used to play, but isn’t right now so she can focus on her studies. Her first reaction (besides what made you think that?) was hesitation. Normally, she identifies as an athlete, but she felt she couldn’t lay claim to the title because she wasn’t participating in sports at the moment. 

Eventually, she stuttered a “yes, but…” They chatted for a few minutes, then went their separate ways. 

Sports have always been an interest of hers; that doesn’t change just because her circumstances change. The same with writing. We want to identify as writers, but “I don’t write”. And you may not write because of your current circumstances. Or you may think you have no claim to the identity because you don’t have a book published. But the friendly, random stranger did not ask if my daughter was on any award-winning, sports team. They just saw an aura they connected with “athlete” and made a leap. 

Which is why you are as much entitled to the identity of “writer” as any NYT bestseller, award winner or even published author, no matter your experience. No matter if you’re even writing at the moment. If you write/have written/want to make time to write in the future, then you get to decide. Yes, I am a Writer.

Labels Can Be Important

How excited was I when I found out there was a name for me! A label! I “suffer” from tsundoku, a Japanese term for the phenomenon of acquiring reading material but letting them pile up in one’s home without reading them. 

That’s me! I have large to-read piles, and multiples of them, too. I love going to bookstores and stocking up, but always it’s accompanied with guilt. When will I ever get to these gems? How will I ever get to them all? And here comes a term that basically lets me off the hook. I don’t have to! I can collect! I can enjoy the look and feel, the atmosphere and mood that my piles of unread books give me. The pleasure and anticipation of potential. The plethora of choice when I do have a chance to pick one up. 

My daughter collects replica swords. She has a beautiful array of weaponry on her wall. Yet she isn’t using them (thank god!) My books are the same. I’ll read what I can when I can, but if not, that’s okay. They still bring me joy. 

Tsundoku. That’s me.

How You Think

You may have heard the phrase “how you live each day is how you live your life”. I like the practicality of that—what is life if not a collection of days, weeks, months and years?—but I also chafed at what I originally felt was some sort of judgment. If I wanted to be a writer, but I didn’t have time to write (thanks, day job, kids, husband, family responsibilities, domestic chores and more), if I wasn’t writing every day, then was I not living the life I wanted to have? As a writer? 

Now my day job is all about writing—my own and coaching others. So now I can buy into that phrase? But just because I had made changes in my own career didn’t mean that was possible for everyone, so were they not integrating writing into their lives if they didn’t write every day? I had trouble reconciling the statement. 

Until I realized it’s not what you do, specifically, on a daily basis, but how you think. If you think like a writer—you have story ideas buzzing around your head, you’re interested to pick up the next book off your to-read pile, you can’t wait to join your next book club discussion, you decide on a new direction for your plot—then it is part of your everyday life. 

Even if you can’t write for an hour, or even five minutes, you’re still living the life of a writer. 

Inspiration from Arcane

In the gorgeously animated series Arcane, based off League of Legend video game characters, is a quote by one of the protagonists: “There is no prize for perfection. Only an end to pursuit.” 

The character may have been talking about something as minor as altering the minds of every human, but despite the frivolous throw-away line 🙂 the sentiment aptly applies to our writing life. 

We often strive for perfection—as represented by the manuscript that lands an agent or a publisher or hits the bestseller lists, not to mention the awards and accolades it could earn. While we know, cognitively, that none of those criteria prove perfection (ever read a bestseller you loathe?? Wonder why that book won a prestigious award??) we often feel like we’re not making it like those other authors because we don’t (yet) have the perfect manuscript. If only we did… and so we keep striving. 

Yet if there were objective perfection in a novel (an idea as fantastical as, well, the world of Arcane), it would be a loss for us all. It’s the pursuit of our own talents, our own capabilities, our own limits, that drive us to write better—and, not surprisingly, to produce better books. It’s not perfection that makes us better. It’s the pursuit of being the best writer we can be. They are vastly different notions, and for that I’m grateful. It takes the perfectionist pressure off, don’t you think? 

Reading Assumptions

Are you a one-book-at-a-time reader? Or do you have multiple stories on the go? For most of my life, I’ve been a strict one-book-at-time reader. I always feared I’d forget too much of the story if a book sat half-read for too long. Of course, if my interest waned in a book and I hadn’t yet pulled the plug on it, then my reading habits waned. I would be stuck in reading purgatory: I wasn’t yet ready to give up on a book, yet not able to pick up a new one.

Then I got into ebooks. Print is and will always be my favourite. I could heat our house for a whole winter, should I ever have to burn my book collection for fuel. (Of course I’d freeze to death first!) But suddenly, with reading apps on my phone, I could squeeze in a few extra minutes of reading when I was out and about. But I wasn’t about to pay for a digital copy of my print books, so I started to buy different ebooks. And now I’m a book juggling fiend! 

It’s taught me a lot about assumptions—about myself. I was adamantly opposed to reading on a screen. I would scoff at the idea of reading more than one book. Yet, when I let go of ingrained notions of “who I was”, I benefited. 

Consider doing the same thing. Question your own assumptions about who you are as a reader and a writer. It’s what we expect of our characters; you deserve no less. 

Read What You Like–And Maybe What You Don’t

I live by the principle that you should only read what you want to read (students excluded!) and if you’re not interested in the book you picked up, then put it down. 

Only, I’ve come to realize, I risk limiting myself. A genre I think I won’t like actually ends up teaching me something. An author’s vastly different writing style that seems off-putting ends up showing me new insights. An ending of a book I might otherwise have put down resonates with me long after I finish. 

A crisis of faith, then: do I discard my long-held reading principle? Do I slog through books that aren’t to my (assumed) taste just to learn something? 

As a writer, I’ve come to learn that the answer is YES. Yes, to getting out of your reading comfort zone. Yes to attempting a book that might not initially appeal to you. Yes to reading a style that might grate. Because yes, you learn from each and every one of these reading experiences. If only to hone your own style. If only to see what you don’t like. If only to show you what not to do. 

The trick, of course, is moderation. Reading can’t be a slog all the time! Pack your to-read pile will all your favourites! Just slip in a few unknowns, too. 

Take a risk as a reader to learn what it takes to be a writer. 

Riddle Me This

You know this classic riddle? “What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three legs in the evening?” 

You know the answer? A person. Babies go about on all fours (infancy) until they learn to walk, which they do well into adulthood, until old age requires them to use a cane to support themselves.

I got into an amusing family discussion about the literalness of riddles. They’re not meant to be taken literally, but there has to be enough that’s literal for the riddle to work. Metaphorical and literal work together to reach an enlightening conclusion. 

But it also got me thinking about our assumptions. The convention of old age is that a person walks with a cane. But not every old person needs one, so, naturally, it’s not literal. And not every adult can walk on two legs, so, again, not inclusively literal. 

Riddles, like other forms of allusion, only work when the writer anticipates what the reader knows (canes = old age) and the reader can extract the writer’s meaning. Without this collaboration, the purpose of the riddle is lost. 

Keep this in mind as you write your own story. What are you expecting the reader to know? And will they know it? 

Then, like any good riddle, let the reader work out your meaning. 

Change YOUR Perspective

I recently rewatched the 1989 movie Dead Poets Society starring Robin Williams as a progressive English teacher in a 1950s boarding school who encourages his students to seize the day. In one scene, he has the students stand on top of their desks so they can get a new perspective on their world. 

We may not all be wanting to climb up onto our desks, but I came across another method, one that was much more subtle, yet still as powerful—and one that may help you as a writer even more. 

I had just put on a pair of boots with a two-inch heel, then realized I’d forgotten my phone in the kitchen. I don’t usually wear heels when I cook, so I’m used to the counters being at a certain height for me. Yet, suddenly, I was now two inches taller, and the counters felt like they were in the wrong place! An illusion, of course, but one that had me mildly disoriented. 

That’s what you want to do to your characters. Whether the discomfort is mild or extreme, we want them to start to see the world in a new way. It’s how we track their character growth and evolution. So, the next time you’re looking at your character, look for a way to make them “taller”. Or shorter. Or whatever. Just make them change. 

Then you’re well on your way to your own writing Carpe Diem. 

Writing IS Messy!

When I went to a doctor’s appointment recently, I walked into a medical building in the middle of a paint job. Baseboards had been removed, drop cloths scattered and paint tins full. A painter was sprawled on the ground, paint brush in hand. 

No surprise, the dishevel made the place look a mess. 

Did it bother me? Of course not. It was obvious why the hallways looked the way they did. Having painted my own house (and I’m so not a painter!) I could appreciate that the mess had to happen to get the results the painter (and building owners) wanted. 

Sound familiar? Does this sound like your first draft? That you necessarily have to make a mess before you can craft it into something beautiful, polished and finished.

And that’s that everyone expects. 

We usually apologize for our “shitty draft” or “terrible writing” or “mess of pages”. We shouldn’t. The painter I passed did not apologize for his work—he had no reason to. I understood he couldn’t do his job without making a mess. But I had every faith that he’d follow through the steps of a good paint job and finish. I’m sure the next time I go, the place will look fresh and finished. 

Therefore, there’s no reason for you to apologize for following the writing process. Unless you’re a literary genius (and I have yet to meet one), you will make a mess on your first (and second, third, maybe even tenth draft). It’s expected! 

So never feel like you need to say sorry for being creative. 

In the Moment

Happy New Year’s Eve! 

It’s tradition to look back on the year past and to look forward at the year to come. Absolutely there’s value in that. You can see how much you’ve accomplished—even if it’s just writing one word. You can set goals for what you’d like to accomplish—even if it’s just writing one word. 

But I’m taking a different track today. I’m neither looking forward, nor looking back. I’m going to be firmly in the moment. What do I want to do today? Do I want to write? Do I have time to write? If yes to both, then I’ll write. If no to one or the other, then I won’t. 

And then I’m going to do the same the next day and then the next day and the next. And maybe all of January and then February and the rest of the year. I’m going to ask myself do I want to write? And do I have time to write? And that’s going to guide me in the moment. 

For you, I wish you the same. Look forward or look back, if that helps you. But don’t forget to look at the here and now. That’s where you’ll find the most writing joy.

Wishing you all the best in 2025. Happy New Year!