“I am only one, but still I am one.
I cannot do everything, but still I can do something.
And because I cannot do everything,
I will not refuse to do the something I can do.”

Edward Everett Hale

Friday 19 June 2020

Finding Your Own Place

The Greek philosopher Plato wrote, "There is a place that you have to fill that no-one else can fill, and there is something for you to do that no-one else can do."


By sheer, gorgeous serendipity, this fits in beautifully with the audio book I have been listening to this week, Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert. Its sub-title is 'Creative Living beyond Fear' and it is about exactly what Plato says. Finding your own creative place in the universe, and writing / painting / crafting / creating what you do, because it is yours to do.


When I first read it, I had not dipped my toe into the (to me) dangerous waters of fiction writing. I had written a memoir, Gems for the Journey, and was about to start doing the research for my book about Unitarianism in the UK, Unitarians: Together in Diversity.  And of course, I was writing an address each week, as part of my role as a minister. Which, although I did not realise it, was helping me to find my 'voice' as a writer.


So although I had no difficulty in seeing myself as a writer, the idea of writing fiction was a scary one. Where would I get the ideas? What if they stopped coming? What if the ideas were stupid? How could I dream up something original? How would I be able to hold a reader's attention?

Then I joined Northampton Writing Circle, a monthly group for local writers. We meet at the Quaker Meeting House, and are given a topic / theme to write a short story about, each month, by our Chairman. Then, the following month, we read our contributions aloud to each other, and receive the group's critiques. I had never attempted to write a short story before, but I thought, 'How difficult can it be?'

I had so much to learn...

At first, I found it very difficult to receive feedback about my stories. Any criticism (as I perceived it) left me feeling prickly and defensive. But I gradually realised that if I received it with an open and grateful heart, I would learn more, and slowly, very slowly, my writing has improved.

Reading Liz Gilbert's book was a real boost in this process. She shares her philosophy that being creative should be fun and stimulating and inspirational. That the idea of The Suffering Artist is a toxic one. If writing (or painting or whatever) gives you so much grief, why do it?! She taught me that writing can be a joyful process, something that would feed my heart and soul.

And so it has proved. After I had read Big Magic for the first time, I thought to myself, "Why not?" and started the long, slow, but infinitely rewarding process of writing my first novel. Which I managed to fit in alongside doing the research for my Unitarian book, and the day job, being a Unitarian minister. Then I revised it, and revised it again. Then, in fear and trembling, I asked the Writing Circle's Chairman, who is also a professional editor, to edit it for me.

Which was a whole 'nother learning process in itself. By the time he / we had finished with my MS, it was much tighter, better structured, and more readable. I began to hope that I might find a publisher. And I did! My novel will be coming out on 1st October this year.

But if I had listened to the gremlins, who were telling me that my writing was no good, that I could never write a fiction book, this would never have happened. I would never have found "my place", which no-one else can fill.

What place might you have to fill, that is yours alone?

1 comment:

  1. I love Big Magic - by sheer coincidence/serendipity, it's sitting on the table next to me as I read this.

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