tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1616769513702255459.post6575200365518898809..comments2024-03-28T17:25:39.164-03:00Comments on The Southern Yankee: A Writer's Log: On Doing What You LoveDan Newlandhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01054536465220812092noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1616769513702255459.post-48875726274914327822010-09-20T18:12:31.221-03:002010-09-20T18:12:31.221-03:00Yes, Murr, I definitely think perfectionism is my ...Yes, Murr, I definitely think perfectionism is my great advantage...as long as I quit applying it to other people's goals and businesses in detriment to my own. <br />That's what I'm doing more and more now and it's working, to the point that I now hold out great expectations for reaching some of those goals that I've long postponed. <br />I should note that I have always had the ambition to write and have taken the time to do it as well, beyond journalism where I made my living writing for many years. What I never seemed to find the time and knowhow for was PROMOTING my other writing and getting it published. Blogging is bringing me "out of the closet" so to speak, as a creative writer and that's a direction I'm taking with ever surer feet, while reorganizing my other writing and translating activities. <br />I should also note that this piece is meant to have a positive message. It's not bellyaching, but an assertion of the view that we need to give ourselves permission to do and to focus on what we love, without, of course, as you wisely point out, throwing everything else in our lives under the bus.Dan Newlandhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01054536465220812092noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1616769513702255459.post-81960549628657070122010-09-20T17:09:12.028-03:002010-09-20T17:09:12.028-03:00Oh, that poignant "now it's later...much ...Oh, that poignant "now it's later...much later." That's the only thing I don't like about getting older: being closer to dead.<br /><br />I wonder how much we are hard-wired to be ambitious, or the opposite. Surely a huge part of maturity for any personality sort is to be able to recognize how much of what we've told ourselves our whole lives is a fable, even if it's our own, legitimate fable. My favorite all-time bumper sticker is "Don't believe everything you think." <br /><br />I spent most of my life thinking I could be a good writer even though I spent very little time doing it. I played with phrases in my head all the time but rarely put anything down, except for letters to the editor and commemorative doggerel for birthdays, retirements, etc. It took one (young!) person to challenge me, in my mid-fifties, to produce one thing for him to read, to finally get the ball rolling, and now I don't know where it will stop. He had sized me up and knew just what sort of kick in the pants I needed.<br /><br />This is what I always wanted to do "some day," but I was well aware of my lack of ambition, and didn't think I'd really come through for myself. That boy did me a big favor.<br /><br />I'm curious: do you think you can overcome your own perfectionism? Or does it work in your favor?Murr Brewsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03422638986410813520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1616769513702255459.post-15992851045150784852010-09-20T15:58:05.960-03:002010-09-20T15:58:05.960-03:00Murr, thanks for your thoughtful comments. I quite...Murr, thanks for your thoughtful comments. I quite agree with you and my point certainly wasn't that people with a talent shouldn't develop other skills. In fact, you seem to be the kind of well-balanced individual I always wished I could be. Nor do I think you can just tell your kids to "do whatever they want to" without finding out what that might be and encouraging them in every way you can, but without ordering them to be whatever you would have them be.<br />The point here is that you had a job you could "punch out of" and that, I believe, is healthy and perhaps would even serve to keep "artist types" in harness. I, instead, sought jobs that were "similar" - I told myself - to what I wanted to do, which was to write fiction (literature) and non-fiction (sort of easy-going political and anthropological travel books and articles). <br />Instead, I worked in killer jobs with killer deadlines and no set timetable (24/7) in newspapers and magazines, and in translating projects, etc. And because of my bent for perfectionism and recognition, no matter how hard I tried to remain a simple "foot soldier", I always ended up being a chief, being in charge, "being the job" and leaving everything I loved "for later". <br />Well, now it's later...much later. And my best advice, based on my own experience, to people like myself who tend to obsess and to never give themselves an even break and to feel they are "never giving enough" in their jobs unless they've reach the breaking point, can only be, don't be bound by the strictures of what you've been conditioned to do. Break out, throw off your chains, DO WHAT YOU LOVE, do it well and succeed at it, by your own definition of success.Dan Newlandhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01054536465220812092noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1616769513702255459.post-50589399426250265782010-09-20T14:56:00.984-03:002010-09-20T14:56:00.984-03:00I was recently host to a group of bright 25-year-o...I was recently host to a group of bright 25-year-olds who were all unemployed and who talked about the particular generational paralysis they experienced because they had all been told, from infancy, that they should do "whatever they wanted to do." As bright as each one was, they all laughed and whinged, "somebody please tell me what I want to do!" Clearly it is important to follow one's heart and to tell oneself the truth, but some of life's strictures (such as the need for food and shelter) are conducive to mental health. As a sometime artist, I am happier having limits put on my work ("this is good, but can you make something in blues and greens that fits over my sofa?") than working in the yawning, limitless world of possibility. I also enjoy writing while constricted (by word count, subject, or, in the case of the NPR 3-minute fiction contest, first and last lines). I enjoy the other sort of writing, also.<br /><br />I believe there is a nobility in the performance of menial but useful labor. I enjoyed my 32 years in the post office--and thank you for that vignette about Faulkner--which didn't prevent me from creating. In fact, it supported it. The ability to punch out every day sets the mind free; the modest but adequate pension does that even better. If I had undertaken to make a living as a writer, I would not have been as happy, I suspect. (That's just me; some of us folks are meant to be drones, and others must run their own show.) But I remain a writer, artist and musician, even without monetary compensation. You can't take that away from a person.Murr Brewsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03422638986410813520noreply@blogger.com