Identity vs Authorship
That same night I mentioned her post to my brother Zain over the phone and we discussed the perpetual tug of war between brilliant and never good enough. A quick example: I am a huge fan of my brother’s art, music, and his other “gifts”. Zain is an extremely talented music composer and producer among other things. But in his eyes he is just a new kid on the block compared to others–these others I have never even heard of because I am not familiar with that industry yet they are demi-gods in their own right from what I was explained.
I decided my exchange with him was an appropriate start for a reply to Mariana’s post. However, I was sidetracked by a view down the hill where I found the home of Betsy Learner. I had no idea who she was prior to another writer in my twitter stream providing a link titled: “Are all writers Narcy?” I didn’t know what the hell “narcy” meant so I clicked on the link. Bad idea. No, the post itself was hardly a paragraph, so it wasn’t as if I fell down the rabbit hole. I was more consumed by the comments. Apparently “narcy” was a term of endearment, shorthand for narcissistic. I didn’t enjoy this party and didn’t know what to make of it. I revved up by cybermobile back to my home to look through my writings and never made it to Mariana’s post.
There were 25 responses and except for one or two which tried to find a middle ground, most of these “writers” claimed they were narcissistic about their work, and some claimed this was the nature of being a “writer.” What stayed with me though was this response: “Occasionally I meet insecure writers. They never finish anything.” Um, hello: the title of my own blog is: Trial of Words–Writings and Fragments. Fragments. Fragments are unfinished pieces, need I further define that? And implicit in the word “trial” is the constant examination, evaluation, and even judgment!
Why had I never thought of this before? Did I have a vault of fragments because I was insecure? And if I was, was I never going to finish the manuscript Her Sizwe?
What did I feel when I read others’ stories?
I concluded that I had never consciously entertained this question because I had only been out of the writer’s closet for a little over a month. Just because I am a baby tweeter and don’t know all the streets and detours in the cyber literary world didn’t mean I hadn’t been writing. In fact I have been writing since I was nine years old. That’s when I finished my first short story–20 neatly hand-written pages ready for publication. Wizard of Oz meets Enid Blyton meets Narnia. I wrote it because I didn’t understand why the authors of my favorite books had not collaborated a story just.for.me. Therefore, I decided these people who took pride in being narcissistic had been doing this long enough to feel entitled for their confidence and I just wasn’t ‘there’ yet. But did I ever want to get there? What did there mean?
That’s when I realized the obvious: feeling confident is not the same as being narcissistic. And as a matter of fact, there is a deep-rooted insecurity embedded in all narcissism. One of my biggest pet peeves of online content is good folks paraphrasing and citing others’ blogs or articles. If you are interested in exploring narcissism and insecurity, here is a good article. I would like to carry on beyond that.
I have never thought: why can’t I do that. But instead, yes, that’s how it is supposed to be done well. I have never felt jealousy because I truly believe what we create comes from such a deep source within, a source that we ourselves our learning about, it matters not if you are writing about ghosts, vampires, or the human condition as explored between a man and a woman.
So then where did that initial gut reaction of envy or jealousy sprout? From thinking YOU are the “WRITER” or “DANCER” or “MUSICIAN” or fill-in-the-blank. Essentially, you will continue to get praise and bows from those who think your work is a mastered act of genius as you continue to doubt yourself because you do come across those to whom you look up and feel you can’t even compare. In a “yogic” sense it keeps one grounded while reaching towards infinity and that can be quite challenging. However, it is uncomfortable only if one attaches his or her “identity” to that of the craft. Remove “identity” from “authorship” and you are free to grow.
There is no growth in narcissism or an unexplored jealousy. Moreover, your lack of humility might actually stunt your craft. You have actually single-handedly decided this is the best you will ever be.
This is not to say don’t value what you have to offer. There is a distinction. Confident value is about your relationship with that Source that comes from within and beyond. Self-indulgent foolery is when you equate merely “writing” with “creating.” The two are not the same. Yes, those that create can use the medium of writing; but not all those writing are necessarily creating. By this I don’t mean whether the creativity is “original.” Of course, the more original, unpredictable, and unique a product the better for us all. This is merely about the authenticity of the process.
Little did I know the full impact of my words “I am not a writer but I do write” would have on my journey when I first bought this house (a.k.a. my blog) but they have manifested a deeper meaning for me and the relationships I have developed with other lovely beings who write as well as those who are self-indulgent clichés.
I am confident about what I share–often I have spent hours re-writing a paragraph and wouldn’t alter it even if a demi-god editor asked me (yes, that was my attempt at practicing faux narcissism; of course if I understood the why beyond a stylistic choice I would)–but I would be lying if I didn’t feel a knot in my stomach before I hit send to a publication or even my own website.
I have many fragments because up until this point in life I was a lawyer and before that a teacher, but I wasn’t those identities either. I was and am–as are you–more than what you do. The closest essence of our identity might perhaps be found in “creating” for it is an innate desire (regardless if developed or not) of our species to make, but it is indeed crippling to conclude your authorship is your identity.
So, the comment I would have written on Mariana’s post would have been: I would rather explore the path of that green monster tugging at me than feel narcissistic at any point about my craft.
“I truly believe what we create comes from such a deep source within, a source that we ourselves our learning about…” – as do I.
I too know that knot in the stomach before hitting post, send, upload etc. Even after it is “up” I worry… a lot. But I also know this is why we are able to create; to understand, to relate, to tell a story. Some might get it, some might not but regardless it is a small way of sharing the experience of being alive.
I love that we have found ways to revisit moments in words, photos etc.
I love that there are endless possibilities and that we can explore them all.
I love that we can break out of the boxes and despite what is said, find places where we are enough.
This may not be exactly on topic; however Annie your words offered some peace… and for this I thank you!
indeed! eckhart tolle is big on not assuming your profession is your identity…lots of bad stuff can pop up if you follow that path.
simple logic: there a gob load of writers in the world…all different, all weird in their own ways. we can’t lump them together and say this is how all writers think, act, etc. it’s what they write about which gives them a true voice. ahhh i heart this.
and for the record i’m TOTALLY insecure about my writing…i think we’re much too young in the game not to be. lol
Dear Annie,
There aren’t too many writers that I envy but I have contempt for writers who are critically acclaimed but feel their writing is horrible. I am more envious of strings of sentences that are composed in such a way that puts me in awe. It is a rare thing that one single person can do this consistently. If I should come across such a person I would say my envy is in truth more of admiration.
When I was in high school I was told I had a gift for writing. I look back at my writings as a child and see that my skills have regressed. I figured out how to overcome “writer’s block” but now find myself running into a problem with “how to write what I want to say.” This is an objective view, not some subjective pity I throw into the wind about my inabilities to succeed as a writer.
I am not sure why I struggle with it and I haven’t read anything on point. However this post has given me some ideas on how to correct my issue. The following statement was like a sucker punch which I saw coming but couldn’t get out of the way.
“Moreover, your lack of humility might actually stunt your craft. You have actually single-handedly decided this is the best you will ever be.”
As I picked myself up off the floor I realized what I read from that statement was not what I initially understood. The second sentence seems to negate “lack of humility” from the previous sentence if taken out of context. Trying to work out what I believed to be a contradiction I realized a solution to my problem. Realizing a solution is the first step in resolving a problem but execution is a completely different animal.
Thanks for sharing your literary thoughts!
John
Hey Annie,
I find this post interesting on a number of levels. Mainly because I’m unconvinced that the meaning of ‘writer’ is perceived in the same way by all. I feel the term, these days, and with the sheer level of content online, is too generic.
The main problem I have is detaching myself from (and please excuse the expression because it’s not meant in a derogatory fashion) self-indulgence and earning a living. I can’t view any piece any more without thinking in terms of publication.
Let me explain. Because of the way journalism has been pilloried online (mainly by fairly bland writers) it’s the fashion to blog. But what blogging doesn’t do is nurture discipline. Some of the greatest writers I know will write, to deadlines, to word-counts on a diversity of subjects and do this day-in, day-out. How can this be? Because they’ve learned their craft.
Which leads me to the point of having an editor and working with teams of people who can look at a piece in a very different way. We have to all bite the bullet and wear our copy on our sleeves. We have to allow other eyes to see and read our work, feedback and fine-tune it so we don’t become one-dimensional. That, to me, is one of the biggest drawbacks of relying on blogging. It lulls a writer into a false sense of security. I’ll be writing about this more on isca later.
It’s interesting you mention Alex. I think I know her pretty well! One of the things I admire enormously, is that she can write engagingly about any subject. That to me, is the standard to work towards. But then, I call that journalism. I see structure and a style, slant, angle, all developed without losing her voice, for whatever publication she’s writing for. Online or off.
Which is why there are different rules for fiction and factual writing. The difference between a novel and newspaper column, a screenplay and a sonnet. It’s impossible to lump all these together and consider the same writing rules apply.
We learn to drive yeah? But the technique for driving of bus and a racing car are completely different. The same for writing. This is why people specialise. It takes time to learn.
If we write for ourselves then that, to me, is self-indulgence. “But, you should always write for yourself’ I hear people cry. Well, tell that to the editor of the The Times. We write because we enjoy it. But ultimately, we have a responsibility to our readers. If we ignore that, then that’s the ultimate in narcissism.
Which is not a bad thing. Some of best friends are narcissists. Society just calls novelists! 😉
What do you think?
@Luke James – @Luke James –
I forgot to sign off..:) Best wishes, Luke 🙂
When I was 18 and had just moved on my own to Toronto, I found a copy of Jack Kerouac’s The Subterraneans. I stepped outside and this woman noticed it, remarking at how rare that book was at the time, and we spoke of other things “beat”. We discovered we were both writers – both poets actually – and she asked if I would like to get together with her and meet some of her fellow poet friends. Of course I agreed! I was excite! Her poetry was in only one bookstore and I went to get it. I went home and read the whole thing through… absolutely crushed by how good her work was. I looked at my own scribble… and realized I would never call her. I didn’t feel narcissistic. I felt ashamed at calling myself a poet, when comparing my work to hers. And this shame was a curse that haunted me for many years. It was not until I met poet & scholar John Ditsky, who described me as a poet in the very matter-of-fact style that he had, that I ever felt justified in using that word in describing myself. Still, published myself by then, and much improved in my skills, I still felt that tinge of shame. Comparing one’s work to others can be quite beneficial, but the field is littered with such land mines. Beware.
@Luke James – “I feel the term [writer], these days, and with the sheer level of content online, is too generic.” –> this was one of my points. I agree completely.
“That, to me, is one of the biggest drawbacks of relying on blogging. It lulls a writer into a false sense of security.” –> Yet, Luke, apparently this false sense of security is the very grounds of a narcissistic attitude that I am pointing at!
Also, just because one has the discipline and a team that edits, doesn’t necessarily mean something “new” has been created. Allow me to define what I mean by “new.”
Let’s take the string of articles by Alex which I mention and you rightfully explain why they are so great. I believe she is able to offer something NEW and hence I consider it ‘creating’ not just merely “writing.” I borrow John’s words from his comment: “strings of sentences are composed in such a way that put me in awe.”
Although the same writing “rules” do not apply to the different genres you mention, I believe there is “good” writing and then writing. And, without getting caught up in semantics, I believe one of the defining things about good writing is that the author “creates” something…plays with the craft. It matters not if it is fiction, journalism–factual reporting or lifestyle. This is also why I hate the word blog–because it sounds like “blob” which means a spatter of ink or a lard ass that doesn’t move.
I once read this article in the New Yorker (I will see if I can find it) which says that even those who write a “diary” are hopeful that it will one day be found and read! So, we are always writing for someone.
Now back to your point of publication (one that pays and therein assists in earning a living) versus self-indulgence. My whole post was originally borne out of my misery that any and everyone is calling themselves a writer because they are doing workshops, webinars, blogging, and well, even have a book about their workships, webinars, blogging, if not a motivational book on how to do all of the above in addition to how I did all of the above, add to that another book on LET me tell YOU how to write because, well, because I got published and have a ticker on my blog that tells me the stats.
I am no one to judge whether they can or cannot call themselves writers. But I believe it is fair to point if there is not craftsmanship in the writing. That being said–let’s be honest–they are paying bills by “writing” no matter if I consider them worth reading or not.
Is craft dead?! My God. Tell me no.
And yes, couldn’t have said it better, if we ignore that responsibility to the readers, that is the ultimate in narcissism.
Hmm, I’m leaving a reply that I think will generate many “You’re a total narsy” thoughts, but there you go:
I see myself as a writer because I am what I am. I don’t even like this distinction between published and unpublished writers — the ‘author’ and the ‘writer’.
Am I saying that my work is fabulous and I have nothing else to learn? Of course not.
I started identifying myself as a writer on the very moment that I decided to turn my life to this direction, even before I wrote the very first word of my WIP’s outline, or my very first short story.
I disagree with you John, when you say that acclaimed writers should feel more confident about their writing. If we don’t doubt ourselves, the quality of our work, we’ll never strive to improve it, and we’ll fall into the narcissistic behavior Annie described so well. (Btw, I hated the post that sidetracked you Annie. Not because of the sidetracking thing, but because of the message and the (mostly) horrible comments. blah)
So, resuming my line of thought, we should always look up to high quality work — green beast or not, heh — but never let our doubts pull us down. As you said,
There is no growth in narcissism or an unexplored jealousy.
Thank you for the tag and the thought provoking post. You’re a writer my dear, whether you choose not to see yourself this way yet or not. 😉
ps.: I tried unsuccessfully to find Neil Gaiman’s musing on being or not being a writer, from which derived my personal opinion, but I couldn’t. Sorry? If I do find the article, I’ll certainly post a link here. 🙂
OK, I was laying in bed next to the gorgeous Mrs J aka Ms R 😉 and couldn’t sleep just thinking about this. Bloody hell Annie. Time to stop analysing.
Here’s my take. You’re only unpublished until you’re published. So Mariana’s point is on the nail. Therefore, by definition, you’re a writer either way.
Let’s talk business for a mo. What are you writing for? A hobby? In which case that’s cool but I’m outta here because that’s not my territory.
If it’s to be paid…then, you’re going to be working towards learning the skills (both writing and business) to fulfill that aim.
But…what do you want to write? If you want to only about the things you decide..forget it. That’s a luxury. And anyway. What kind of writer do you want to be? A journalist? Then you have to learn those skills.
Everyone needs to have some sort of validation. What publication does is give a writer that. However, where that publication takes place and the style, professionalism, reputation etc. does matter. And so it should.
I was chuffed to bits when I got front cover on Italian Vogue. It took me five years and it’s a one off. But during all that time, I was shooting stuff I didn’t want to but learning all the time. Then, when the opportunities come, and they will, you can take them.
All of us are insecure about our work. Get used to it. It doesn’t get ANY easier and I don’t know anyone at the top of their profession who feels happy about their creations. They may blag it. But get them on their own.
Hang the semantics. Leave that to the academics. I want to see that five year plan! 😉
@Luke James –
p.s. I should add, that no matter what, the thrill of publication soon wanes. For me, the biggest validation is when someone hands me a cheque. Not just because of the money, but because I know I’ve done a good job. And for sure, I’m already thinking about the next one.
Thought the following from a post
on Jane Friedman’s blog was very on point:
The Writing Advice Book That Would Never Sell
The book I really want to write would encompass the following dilemmas and contradictions:
• Talent vs. Practice (or Discipline). Some people are born to be writers. Others seem to be blessed with the discipline to get better. Can you succeed without any talent? Which quality is more important? And how do you know if you have any talent to begin with? Certainly those with talent need to practice, too—or not?
• Luck vs. Persistence. I’ve seen so many lucky writers—people who were at the right place at the right time. Yet the cliche is that luck favors the prepared. That feels true, though I’ve met a lot of prepared people who never seem to catch a break.
• Confidence/Ego vs. Doubt. I’ve never met a writer who didn’t have self-doubt, though not all will admit to it. We’re always waiting to be revealed as complete phonies. Yet without some measure of outrageous ego—a belief that you have something to say to the world—there’s no way you could justify writing. Writing is not for the weak. The weak ones give up easily, sometimes with the first rejection.
• Professionalism vs. Eccentricity. The writers who are business-savvy and have a flair for marketing & promotion almost always do well. Yet the writers we tend to fall in love with, and the ones we remember, can be the craziest, the most rude, or the most outrageous. Strong personalities sell, too.
• Extroversion vs. Introversion. Extroverts network better and find more people to help them. Introverts are naturally suited to writing and often notice all those wonderful details that extroverts miss. Horrible stereotyping here, but still.
Excellent and thought-provoking post Annie.
I believe you’re a writer if you write. I also don’t like the difference between “author” and “writer.” Who’s to say that the editors and agents are right?
I’m very glad that I didn’t come across the post you read and the comments re “narcy” writers.
I continue to be amazed at how people seem absolutely and 100% certain that their work is the best. It’s good to be quietly confident. We all need a bit of confidence to continue writing everyday, as it’s not the easiest job in the world!
You make a very valid point that a lack of humility may stunt your craft. I couldn’t agree more. Some of the greatest writers, whether they are authors, screenwriters or any type of artist are humble people.
Annie,
What if we write because we *have* to write – because it’s part of the way we express ourselves.
This ‘breathing out’ of our creative inspiration
must surely be essential for our well-being – survival even.
Commercial? Self-indulgent? Narcissistic? These are judgments that are only relevant after the fact. The same way a scientist may analyse and judge the result of a chemical reaction *after* the ingredients have been mixed in a test-tube.
Write because you have to write.
HOWEVER…
If you plan to write for a living, then follow the rules of commerce.
If you plan to write for critical acclaim, then follow the rules of art.
But never let the external commentary of post-creation judgment stop the shining out of your inspired breath.
Your friend, Robin 🙂
@Robin Dickinson – YES, THIS NAILS IT! You put it so simply and eloquently. You sure you are draw only? Thank you for stopping by my dirty, needs-upgrading-home! 🙂 Much appreciated.
@Robin Dickinson – I write because I don’t know how to not write any longer.
Someone asked me if I don’t care to be published or for an audience then why the obsession with the craft of it? For me–it is to properly honor the characters that I breathe into life on paper and when it is non-fiction then to allow the space for another to understand as I try to understand too.
I write because I know of no other way to “breathe out.”
I am in the process of developing my rules of commerce via another source–it can’t be through writing. At least not initially if ever. 🙂
Thank you so much for stopping by, reading, and sharing your astute point of view.
~a.
@annie – It’s both an honour and a privilege to be a guest in your creative space – your home. 🙂
@Robin Dickinson – “What if we write because we *have* to write – because it’s part of the way we express ourselves.”
Nothing is further than the truth in, excuse me, my book. I don’t need to write (creatively) to make a living. I need to write to be me. The trials and tribulations during the work week take something away from me. Writing for me allows me to take back me. Nature abhors a vacuum; writing fills in the spaces.
Thank you Mr. Dickson for that simple but profound remark.
*apologies for the idioms*
Great post, Annie, and some very thought-provoking comments too.
My views: first, to equate one’s profession/passion to the entirety of one’s being is dangerous. When someone is a “writer”, it’s easy to define oneself as such, because so much of who they are translates into the writing. But the minute your world becomes about this one thing, doesn’t the quality of your craft diminish?
Second, I admit I sometimes read what others have written and feel envy. Mostly because they have managed what I have not — finished a piece of writing. Regarding the way in which they put their words together, the way in which they articulate themselves, envy is pointless. Their writing is the sum of their experiences, in the same way that my writing reflects my world. It’s pointless envying someone else’s “voice” because no two people will ever see the world the same way, and therein lies the magic/beauty/point of reading what someone else has written.
Thanks for the great read 🙂
Well written, reading your piece, the words feel like soft clear bubbles.
Yet, I am not jealous :), I am inspired, good writing opens a vault which I find only makes me improve my skills as a writer – be they in writing prose, blogging or journalism
This is also why I don’t understand writers who abandon the written works of others as they craft they art, but that’s beyond the point.
Ultimately, no ‘art’ is mine, so neither is it the author’s whose art I might be admiring. A good artist is merely a (often trained) vessel for delivering one side of truth. And there is nothing narcissistic about truth.
Hi Annie, thought-provoking and interesting in seeing the various viewpoints of other people who responded to this post.
I value actions, not in how I judge others but in how I work. Therefore, I think of it as “I write”. Whether someone wants to call me an unpublished writer, or anything else, I don’t know that I care because it won’t change that I write.
However, I don’t write for myself but hope that what I write will be interesting to others and hope to learn as I write to improve my craft to increase that interest.
Ironically, I don’t know that I see myself as interesting in that respect. I’m more interested in my ideas. Which explains why I don’t have any blog posts on my blog that explain why I love everything Swedish; or spend much time talking about me. (Although, this week’s story craft exercise was biographical.)
Aidan
P.S. regardless of how you decide to consider your writing, I hope that I’ll continue to get to see some fragments from your side of the conversation.
Relentless self examination, honesty and transparency are the bones of good writing. Hats off to exploring the above.