by Elizabeth S. Craig, @elizabethscraig
This post has spoilers for Beth Spann. (I’ve already texted Mama and asked her not to read my Monday post—Mama, if you are reading the post, this is your spoiler alert!)
I was at a garden center last week, looking for a Christmas cactus to give my mother for Christmas.
There was a really pretty plant there—it’s in the picture, above. It was obviously the best choice for a gift.
While I was looking around, the owner of the garden center bustled around, answering questions and sounding extremely knowledgeable about plants. But by the time I’d make it to the register, she’d disappeared to a different area of the nursery. There was another lady at the register who smiled at me. “Can I help you?” she asked.
“I don’t have much luck with indoor plants,” I said. “I need to make sure this plant makes it until Christmas. Do you have any tips for me?”
The woman looked at me with wide eyes. “Let me see if I can find Sara real quick.”
She did her best to find Sara, but she was nowhere around. The woman returned slowly to the register. “I’m afraid she’s not around.”
“Do you know how much water it needs?” I asked. “I usually have problems with watering.” There wasn’t one of those little plastic stakes that usually tells how to care for the plant, either.
The woman took a deep breath, seemed to do a mental search of all her knowledge on cacti, and said, “Well….the soil should be moist, but not wet to the touch. You need to keep it out of direct sunlight and make sure it’s not under any heat vents.” She continued talking about the plant, getting more confident as she went and giving me more and more information about Christmas cacti.
I thanked her for her help, and then said, “You seem to know a lot about the plants.”
“Oh, I take care of them,” she answered.
So…she took care of the Christmas cacti every day, but didn’t seem to trust herself to explain to me how to care for them. She wanted to find the expert—the owner.
This is the way I think many of us feel when we’re writing, too. We don’t trust ourselves to tell the story. We hesitate as we’re writing, thinking we can’t tell the story the way we want it to be told.
We read up on the writing craft, but sometimes this reading takes the place of our practice time. There’s definitely a point where we need to put our how-to books aside and just write our story.
Like the lady who took care of the plants—when we practice, we learn. And once we finish our first draft, we have ample opportunity to edit our story to ensure it’s exactly the one we meant to tell.
A few tips for making sure we finish our story:
Set a manageable goal. Revisit that goal if it proves not to be manageable.
Show up. Meet that manageable goal we set for ourselves by sitting down and opening up our document.
Be flexible with our writing time and the places we write. Be open to writing on the spur of the moment.
Read books in our genre. It’s the only way to learn how to structure books, or to get a sense of the right pace for our stories. Read blog posts, books, and articles that help us improve—but don’t let the how-to reading interfere with or take the place of our writing time.
Be forgiving of our first draft.
Stop comparing ourselves to others. Enjoy others’ work, learn from it. But develop our own voice and confidence in our writing…by writing regularly.
Do you trust yourself to tell your story? How do you work through your insecurities to finish your draft? Tips for staying motivated?
Elizabeth – I couldn’t possibly agree with you morea bout the need to trust our instincts when it comes to our writing. Yes of course it’s always good to hear from experts and I learn a lot from other writers’ experiences. Why re-invent the wheel? But at the same time, I think you’re quite right that we need to have faith in our storytelling ability. That faith comes through to the reader and helps win us fans. Betcha the next time you go looking for a plant, you’ll go to that same person who didn’t seem sure she knew what she was talking about. That’s what I mean.
Hi Elizabeth .. trust yourself, otherwise you’ll never move forward. What a great example of story telling; yet perhaps the owner dominates and doesn’t let the assistant have a go … trust your staff, especially if they’re interested.
Love the Christmas cactus .. lucky mother .. cheers Hilary
Great advice, Elizabeth. I know a lot of people who could take a lesson from this.
Elizabeth, you have no idea how much I needed to read this post today. Thank you!
Karen
It’s YOUR story, after all. If you can’t trust yourself, then who can you trust?
Hilary–Yes, I think it’s a good lesson for business, for sure. Trust the staff and let *them* grow and assume other roles. They’ll be more confident and satisfied with their work…and stick around longer.
Paul–Thanks for coming by!
I was trying to figure out Scrivener a couple of weeks ago, and it totally messed me up in terms of trusting myself. Once I went to my blank page and didn’t think about the story, only the scene I was writing, things started flowing again. (And, as so often happens, we’re in cybersync today, because this is my own blog topic!)
Terry
Terry’s Place
I trusted myself more in the beginning because I was naive! I didn’t regain it again until several books later.
Perfect for me to read today, and a very encouraging post. Thank you, Elizabeth. I finished reading Quilt or Innocence a short time ago, and I loved it! It was fun and I couldn’t wait to get back to it when I was away.
Kathy M.
Learning to trust myself is an ongoing project. I’m much more confident now, but it’s still a process :)
We gain confidence the more we write and practice.
Margot–I think lack of confidence is what makes many writers get frustrated with their writing and run into blocks. Yes, I’ll know who to go to at the garden center next time!
Diane–Ha! I know what you mean…confidence can come and go.
Karen–Oh good! Thanks so much for coming by. :)
The Daring Novelist–Exactly!
Kathy–Thanks so much for saying so! I’m looking forward to reading one of your books soon…hope your writing is going well. :)
Alex–It’s really the only way to get it, isn’t it?
Terry–Oh, I bet that messed you up. Learning new apps is tough…I’m working on Evernote and finding it more difficult than I thought it would be. I’m like you–I think of my story in terms of scenes.
This is a great analogy and an example of really good story telling. Writers wrestle with the issue of trusting their judgement more than they care to admit. Part of the writing process involves vulnerability, and that’s where the doubt can creep in. It’s a beautiful plant! Fiona
As someone who has had these plants for years and kept them alive, as well, I suggest you give the plant to your mom NOW. By Christmas, all the blooms will be gone.
If you live in a colder part of the US, be sure to use some newspaper or floral paper as a collar/scarf when you carry it outside, or it will be damaged. You can also knock off the blooms if it’s jiggled too badly.
Otherwise, the advice on care was spot on. Tell your mom to give it a light feeding of liquid fertilizer after the blooms fall off.
Jemi–You’ve worked so hard since I’ve known you–I think you’re doing a great job! Looking forward to reading that book of yours.
fcmalby–Thanks, Fiona! And I think you’re spot-on–what makes writers good writers…sensitivity, vulnerability, etc., can also make us insecure and hesitant.
Marilynn–Uh-oh! Ugh..not sure if I’m seeing her before Christmas.
:( But…I do have some really pretty pictures of it! Sigh. No, I’m in the South. But I’ve already jiggled off some blooms as I’ve moved it around, so thanks for the suggestion!
That’s a very nice and encouraging post.
Cacti in plural; then I’ve learnt something today too. Latin origin, is it? Like radius – radii.
Cold As Heaven
Cold–Ha! Yes, I think so…took Latin ages and ages ago. You’ll enjoy this one: octopi. :) Isn’t that fun? Ahhh…English.
Elizabeth, keep the cactus for yourself and buy a huge poinsettia for your Mom. They can last forever. I’ve had mine with color into late summer.
Marilynn–A sound tip! Thanks so much, Marilynn. :)
You know, sometimes I don’t trust myself, and this is such a timely post. Thanks so much, Elizabeth!