Flow

Okay, bear with me. This post has got some ridiculously long words, like: Mihaly Czikszentmihalyi, which I have a hard time spelling, let alone pronouncing. However, he wrote a marvelous book about how creative flow works; it's called, very simply, in contradistinction to his name, Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience (Harper Perennial 1990), and I hope you read it. It's significantly easier to get through than you might think. 

The core of his argument lies in this concept: that the "key element of an optimal experience is that it is an end in itself. Even if initially undertaken for other reasons, the activity that consumes us becomes intrinsically rewarding" (67). A "self-contained activity, one that is done not with the expectation of some future benefit, but simply because the doing itself is the reward," is key to what Czikszentmihalyi refers to as an "autotelic" experience, meaning, a self-motivated goal or activity. Even the most painful or difficult experiences, he argues, can become rewarding if the person sticks with it long enough to have that proverbial lightbulb go on. 

That means that if you're not enjoying something actively, but you stick with it, the chances are much better that you will have that moment of inspiration or breakthrough that leads to the next place in your understanding, ability, or talent with something. The preparation is all. The amount of work, conscious or unconscious, that you put into something (like writing, obviously) can lead to greater insight and skill. 

One of the things that makes sense is that writers must be readers, must immerse themselves in the printed, written, and spoken word. To enjoy writing... for it to flow for you, might not happen overnight. I doubt it happens for very many writers. It isn't enough (in my experience, working with published writers as their editor) to get accolades, money, and fame, from your writing. 

To love to write... this is part of the process, and it might not be obtainable. But if you read Csikszentmihalyi, you will get a better idea of how it's possible.

Writing Resources

The time has come, the walrus said, for the teacher side of me to emerge. Today's suggested writing how-to is by William Zinsser (On Writing Well: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction, reprinted over and over again, is now in its 30th anniversary edition, 336 pp., and is published by Collins). This book has been around forever, and its author is refreshingly honest and does not mince words about how difficult writing can be. However, he also offers straightforward writing advice, and is one of the basics I put on any bibliography or list of books I recommend to students. 

Another inspirational book is by Barbara Ueland, and is one of my favorites: If You Want to Write: A Book About Art, Independence, and Spirit, brief at 164 pages, published by bnpublishing (their lower-case, not mine). This was written originally way back in 1938, but nothing that has been written more recently adequately addresses the fears writers face, the inadequacies, all the uphill slog that most writers must battle with before they can ever get a word written. This book in particular is where I would suggest all writers begin, or read if they ever feel low, depressed, or stuck.  (The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron is another one that is very helpful about gently guiding you toward creation, but Cameron owes a lot to Ueland.)

Books written by writers are too often self-serving, but I found Stephen King's (On Writing, reprinted 2002, Pocket Books), really helpful, surprisingly so, since he's a horror writer. His knowledge of overall writing principles is very wise, and he is entertaining but sincere in his approach and tone of voice. 

Starting a writers' group

I am in the process of beginning a writers' "support" group--I don't like to use the word 'support', because it sounds like psychological counseling, but in fact, writers do need support, since it's so damned hard to do this on your own. That's one of the reasons I consider writing to be a collaborative art, because no one ever writes completely alone, isolated from outside resources. But too often, we write without other people taking an active role in our writing, as though that were the way it was supposed to be, but if you've read my earlier posts, you know I don't believe that's true or necessary. 

Now, every time I've been a member of a writer's group, my experience has been that the process compels one to keep writing, if only because the people who show up each week bring their own stuff and you end up feeling a sense of responsibility to make sure you have something for them to look at. Also, there's just the motivation. It's so much easier to keep going if you've got others who give a damn that you're making progress.

Critiquing is a fine art, however. It's a minefield to navigate, because these are strangers, and you don't want to say the wrong thing. It's also not necessary to critique like some kind of literary critic, which would be insulting and pedantic. The goal of critiquing, it seems to me, ought to be to provide honest (and/but) constructive ideas to help the writing along, not to slash anyone to pieces. I've seen both approaches, and these critiques that destroy the writer's confidence are just silly. There's no need for that. Writing is hard enough; you need support, not detractors. 

I've got two people signed up so far; let's see if we get any more. This should be interesting. It looks like we'll meet at Elliot Bay Book Company, probably on weekends. Writers' groups can be very helpful to keep one motivated, so I hope this works out.

Believing in one's writing

This has proved to be the hardest part; this belief in one's self as a writer. I once started a journal with: "I don't know what to write." The rest of the journal remained blank. I don't journal well. 

I fight with myself as a writer every single day. I reject this self-imposed isolation. I hate it. I don't want to do it. I don't know how not to.

It doesn't help that my insecurities are fueled by difficulties getting published. Every time I receive a rejection, it sets me back, and I have to begin all over again, Sisyphus rolling this rock back up the hill. I am getting older, waiting to get that rock up that hill.