Cindy on December 27th, 2011
It’s a DIY world, but you can’t do it alone. Build your team as wisely as you would choose typefaces or words for lyrics. Embrace your place on earth as creative. Give thanks you
were given this gift to share. Turn a deaf ear to those who say the path of art is hard. Doing something you don’t love is a much harder path.” – Patti Digh, from What I Wish for You
– Original mixed-media art by Cindy La Ferle –
Cindy on August 24th, 2009
I believe that modern Americans are feeling less and less satisfied even as their freedom of choice expands.” — Barry Schwartz
When I was a gangly, insecure kid in junior high, I kept a green eye on others who were smarter, cooler, prettier, and more athletic than I was. Like most preteens, I measured my worth against the status of my peers. And like most kids, I often found myself lacking, no matter how much encouragement I earned from my parents and teachers.
As I matured, I grew thicker skin and self-respect, and even began to trust my own insight. I understood, as my folks often reminded me, that I’d always encounter people who were faring better or worse than I was. I also caught on to the fact that conformity was a dead-end street and not a path to personal fulfillment.
Regardless, I was boggled by the options open to me after I earned my liberal arts degree. I was told that the world was my oyster, and if I really wanted to I could pursue journalism, art, advertising, marriage, motherhood, travel, teaching, publishing, public relations, law, or writing for non-profit organizations. Or maybe several of those things at the same time. On a good day, I labeled myself a Renaissance woman. Most of the time, though, I felt like a dilettante. A dabbler.
After a five-year stint in reference book publishing, I finally settled on marriage, motherhood, and freelance writing, all of which I found truly satisfying. Still, I didn’t stop looking outside myself for answers.
All too often, I questioned — or doubted — my abilities and choices. Did I really have anything new or interesting to say? Was my writing worth publication? If there were so many books, essays, and articles in print, well, why would anyone bother to read anything of mine? (Even now, as I edit this blog entry, I can’t help but think of all the other good blogs and worthy Web sites competing for attention.) Thankfully, I’ve ignored the voices of my inner critics and forged ahead.
All of this came tumbling back when I started reading Barry Schwartz’s The Paradox of Choice: Why More is Less, which Business Week voted a “Top Ten Book of the Year.” Thanks to a tip from another blogger, I rediscovered this fascinating book after overlooking it (too many books to choose from!) when it first hit the bookstores. And I’m glad I did.
The Paradox of Choice would be an excellent gift for any new graduate who’s wrestling with “what to be” when they grow up, as well as for anyone who’s chronically overwhelmed by modern culture and its smorgasbord of “options” — from electronic gadgets to graduate schools.
As Schwartz points out, our abundance of “choice” comes at a great price. “We get what we say we want, only to discover that what we want doesn’t satisfy us to the degree that we expect,” he writes. “We are surrounded by modern, time-saving devices, but we never seem to have enough time. We are free to be the authors of our own lives, but we don’t know exactly what kind of lives we want to ‘write.’”
Covering everything from the perils of conspicuous consumption to the virtual emptiness of extreme competition, this book will get you thinking about the choices you make. It might even help you find the courage to simplify your life and find more satisfaction in having just enough. — Cindy La Ferle
Cindy on August 12th, 2009
Irrespective of what she reads, though, when she goes back to sit before the computer, there is the same stubborn emptiness, the same locked door.” — Elizabeth Berg, Home Safe
As soon as I hit the “Publish” tab, I started worrying about last week’s blog post. Not that I regretted exposing my family’s elder-care crises. I know many of you can relate to or sympathize with the heartache of witnessing the decline of aging parents. But later in the post, I got a little too gloomy about journalism, blogging, and writing careers.
I didn’t mean to discourage anyone.
This site was originally designed to keep in touch with my newspaper column readers, and over the years it also morphed into a blog for my writing workshop students. I usually don’t give writing “advice” — but I try to offer some insight on the writing life. Most of my students tell me that getting published seems like a mysterious, impossible thing that other people do. So, I make a point of reminding them that that’s not the case at all. Published writers are ordinary people who grow tomatoes, burn casseroles, gripe about politics, miss their kids when they move out, and wish someone else would wash their cars. People like me.
Until recently, though, I’ve rarely said much about the lonely hours of isolation, the frightening abyss of writer’s block, the times I’ve been annoyed at editors and baffled by agents, or the times I’ve wondered if I’m just wasting time. I’ve avoided discussing all that because I believe my role is to encourage, inspire, and excite new writers — to remind you that your dreams of publication are not out of reach. And yet, with so many newspapers and magazines folding lately, and with the book publishing industry in a major crisis, too, I think it’s misleading to suggest that being a writer is loads of fun right now. When the only ones signing fabulous book deals are loons like Sarah Palin (who can’t even deliver a coherent speech), well, to paraphrase Anne Lamott, you too might be inclined to get “down on your hands and knees and drink gin straight from the cat’s dish.”
Regardless, last week I wondered if it was wrong to broadcast how pessimistic I’d been feeling about the future of publishing. And wasn’t it a bit unfair or mean-spirited to announce that “the magic just isn’t there for me” in blogging — especially when I know that many of you take pride in your blogs? So, I almost went back to delete that downer of a paragraph from last week’s post.
But then I finished Elizabeth Berg‘s sweet new novel, Home Safe, and I changed my mind.
In Home Safe, middle-aged novelist Helen Ames is coping with the loss of her husband and her father — and facing a newly emptied nest. Despite all the free time she has, Helen is impossibly blocked, unable to do the writing that has always fulfilled and saved her. I won’t spoil the entire plot for you, in case you’d like to read the novel, but I suspect that Elizabeth Berg herself has endured some of her main character’s career angst. What writer hasn’t?
Like the fictional Helen Ames, I’ve often thought about throwing my drafts in the trash compactor and applying for a “real job” in retail. (I’ve seriously wondered if I’m better suited to a gig at an Eileen Fisher boutique or a cozy independent bookshop with a resident cat.) But along the way, Helen reluctantly tries teaching a writing class, and ultimately learns that she is lifted by coaching others. Just as I’ve been lifted by every hopeful student who’s had the courage to share his or her stories in my classes.
Reading Home Safe, I felt at times as if Berg were holding a mirror to my own conscience. But the real gift in this novel was the permission it gave me to admit aloud that I do get burned-out and discouraged; that no matter how much I’ve achieved, I’m not immune to doubt and insecurity.
Burnout, discouragement, doubt, and insecurity are inexorably chained to the writing life — yet they often precede a second wind or a second act. If you’re in it for the long run, there’s no way you’ll fully appreciate the thrill of seeing your byline under a magazine article or your name on the cover of a book until you’ve battled these demons and gremlins. I wouldn’t be honest, or fair, if I didn’t share that with you too. -- Cindy La Ferle
Cindy on May 8th, 2009
The creative space is the place where no one else has ever been. You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. What you’ll discover will be wonderful. What you’ll discover is yourself. — Alan Alda
The “Summer at the Center” catalog just rolled off the press, listing a variety of creative classes at the Birmingham Bloomfield Art Center. Of special interest to suburban-Detroit writers will be the Writer’s Retreat series, which includes my weekend workshop in writing and publishing short personal essays on June 20 and 21. This will be a relaxed workshop, with plenty of encouragement and writing time. Weather permitting, I hope we can spend some of the time outdoors.
From songwriting to screenwriting, this new series offers several classes for both new and experienced writers. Concluding the summer series on August 8, the “Writer’s Life” afternoon forum gives new and aspiring writers an opportunity to discuss the realities of freelance writing with a panel of Detroit-area journalists and editors. (I’ll be on hand to moderate the panel.)
Space is limited, so you’ll want to register for your classes soon. The summer catalog is now available at the BBAC, or click here to check out the PDF version. Copies of Writing Home will also be available for students to purchase in the BBAC Gift Shop. For class fees and additional info, contact the BBAC, — CL
–”Imagine” garden stone photo by Cindy La Ferle–
Cindy on April 20th, 2009
“Nothing splendid has ever been achieved except by those who dared believe that something inside them was superior to circumstances.” — Bruce Barton, American Congressman
It’s no secret that the print and publishing industries are in turmoil and transition. In this climate, it’s nearly impossible to get a major publisher to look at your manuscript — unless you happen to be Joe the Plumber or Nadya Suleman (aka Octomom).
“As a writer, I find this worse than depressing,” wrote columnist George Cantor, addressing this issue in the Feb. 12 edition of The Detroit Jewish News. “My agent tells me it is getting harder to sell a book of any kind unless it involves a celebrity or someone who has already written a best seller.” Which might explain why so many serious and talented writers are considering self-publishing as a viable option.
Is there a novel, a poetry collection, or a memoir in your desk drawer? As print-on-demand publishers are quick to point out now, many literary giants, including Virginia Woolf, were self-published authors. If you’re willing to work hard to get your own stuff out there, self-publishing might be for you, too.
But don’t even consider it without doing some serious homework. There are several resources available, including Deana Riddle’s 2009 Writer Watchdog Self-publishing Directory, which includes an article I wrote about my own adventures in self-publishing. Riddle’s directory features more than 200 useful resources for self-publishers, in addition to some solid advice from industry professionals. And I highly recommend a visit to Dan Poynter’s Web site, where you’ll find a list of his outstanding directories and some tips for getting started. See you in print! –Cindy La Ferle
