I go to books.
I go to books. Any time I have a question, looking for clarity, want to know, need a break, must get motivated, crave commiseration, for anything and everything, I go to books. There are many books about writing books, many written by successful authors. A few of those have been weaved into the fabric of my writing world that have nudged, prodded, and hit me over the head as I’ve thought about writing, stopped and started, stopped and started again. They have come into my life in a specific order, at specific times, for specific reasons.
The first book ignited and extinguished a flame simultaneously. I was young, in college, deciding a career path, deciding on a family. Though seemingly lighthearted with its humor and whimsy, A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf was a gentle slap in the face. It’s thin, just over 100 pages, and full of sophisticated language by a successful female author about the realities of women writing. In modern times, we’d need a universal basic income (enough money to not have to work) and a space to call our own (a room of one’s own, and she didn’t mention who would take care of the kids). I’ve always had to work, and the closest thing to a room of my own has been a vacant table on the patio at Starbucks. I didn’t come from money, and I’ve never been financially supported. At the time, perhaps somewhere inside me, I intuitively knew this would never be the case. And, honestly, who would care for the kids?
Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh was given to me by a very close friend. I was too young at the time and in the throes of a challenging relationship. I gave it back before I left town, only one chapter read and put down. It was passed along to me again at a time when I found myself in a situation with plenty of time to read. This time it grabbed me by the shoulders, whipped me around, and stared straight into my soul, never to leave my heart or book shelf again. It spoke of the time and space in all increments (minutes, hours, weeks) that women need to focus on themselves. Anne, being a writer, was talking directly to me as a writer.
Steven Pressfield is inspiring and truthful. His book, The War of Art, was recommended to me by a writer friend during a vague period of time when I had gone from career to career and business idea to business idea and was trying to center myself in my personal pursuits. I had been revisiting my initial longing to write, a path I had begun to follow more than a few years after graduation from college. The War of Art teaches about the one great evil that keeps us from creation and pursuing our purpose…resistance. Pressfield numbers the manifestations of resistance and how to conquer them while speaking to my faith in a muse, either here in the physical realm or from beyond, somewhere in the universe. This book inspired me to set aside time between the job I had to do making money and the work I did at home in my family, plucking away on my laptop on the patio at Starbucks, finally forming an idea for a novel and then building its world and characters.
Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert pushed me over the edge, in a good way. At the time, I was tagging along with a friend to a writers group, searching the internet for a writer’s conference, looking for validation. The Setting Sun was probably 75-80% complete, and when I picked up this book, it was all the validation I needed. The chapters/parts are titled Courage, Enchantment, Permission, Persistence, Trust, and Divinity. Her words somehow connected, mingled, and reconciled the admonitions and shortcomings (in my mind/my experiences) of Virginia Wolff, Anne Morrow Lindbergh, and Steven Pressfield that further fueled me. When I heard her say out loud (while talking about the book in an interview or on her podcast), “Get off the runway,” everything shifted, and I could not be deterred from the finish line.
I am not surprised by their appearances (the circumstances or their messages), but I AM consoled in them. As I’ve stumbled along my path in life, it feels like someone or something was looking out.