by Elizabeth S. Craig, @elizabethscraig
Last weekend, I was in South Carolina for the Festival of the Arts in the town of Anderson.
I’m originally from Anderson and Jane, one of the event organizers, called me last fall and invited me to attend. She explained that it wasn’t a signing or speaking gig, but more of an exhibit. The artists would be there to talk to attendees about their creative process, etc.
The word “artist” gave me pause, although I frequently use it in reference to writers. This time, though…. “Who is going to be there?” I asked.
“Sculptors, painters, photographers, quilters, woodworkers…” The list went on.
I wasn’t sure. “I’m going to be the only writer there?”
That was correct.
I agreed to go, but remember feeling…well, a little insecure about it. Those other artists are artists! In every way.
Time went by until about two weeks ago and the organizer called me again. “I’m in the process of setting up the tables for the event and wanted to go ahead and plan your exhibit. What kinds of things would you like to bring in?”
I paused. “What are the other artists bringing in?”
“Photography, maybe some woodwork they’re working on or a current canvas they’re in the process of painting.”
I said, “Jane, all my stuff is going to look like clutter! In fact, it is clutter. It’s notebooks and Post-Its and scribbles. The stuff in the notebooks is going to sound absolutely crazy. Besides, most of the writing I do is on my laptop and that’s not going to be very interesting.”
But she convinced me to send along what I had. I put together some of my books, some of my printed rough drafts that I’d marked up with revisions, an ARC of one of my books, and a few notebooks for past projects that had sticky notes scattered throughout and cryptic notes to myself.
And it was clutter! Mine is the center, yellow table in the picture. Jane arranged it as best she could, but there’s only so much you can do with clutter. :)
When I got to the festival last Saturday, I learned that I wasn’t the only attendee to have second thoughts or doubts. Jane told me that a large number of the artists she’d called had told her that they didn’t consider what they did art. Some did consider their creative efforts art, but they didn’t think it was good enough to display. Some were uncomfortable with anyone viewing their art, stating it had really just been done to please themselves.
I’m fairly confident about some aspects of my writing now. I’m confident I can finish a book. I’m confident I can deliver what my editors are looking for (or, if not, that I can tweak it to make it work.) I’m confident that I can fix whatever disaster of a first draft that I write.
But this just serves as a reminder that we’re never really over feeling insecure about what we do, especially in comparison to others’ efforts. And that apparently is true for other areas of the artistic community, too.
Once the exhibition started, though, I think all the artists forgot their self-consciousness. That’s because our audience came in. And they were eager to see what we were doing, ask questions, and enjoy what we’d created.
This makes me think that if we think less about what other artists or writers are accomplishing, less about our own fragile egos, and look toward our readers, we might have a shot of getting past our insecurities.
How do you step outside your comfort zone as a writer? How do you battle insecurities?
I’ll be traveling again tomorrow, this time to the Book ‘Em Conference in Lumberton, NC. I’m speaking on a panel at 2:00 there with my writing friend L. Diane Wolfe. Hope you’ll come if you’re in the area. http://www.bookemnc.org/
This is an opportunity disguised as a problem: It’s often said that to do great things, artists need to learn to embrace failure.
We often try to grow by doing things that are difficult, but really, we can often grow the most by doing little things that are uncomfortable. Exposing small vulnerabilities — letting people see something that isn’t perfect. Admitting that you didn’t succeed as well as you wanted to at something. (Admitting that when you were supposed to be diligently working, you were really playing games.)
I’ve been posting artwork on my blog. Sometimes I don’t have anything I want to post, but I’m trying to get more up there, because it makes me work better.
I’d never heard of a writer’s chaos being made into a display – how fascinating. I shudder to think what anyone could create with mine; little scraps of paper with scribbles on them, charts which make sense only to me, odd words splattered in the middle of pinned up paper on my bulletin board. Do you remember Pigpen and the dust cloud which went with him every where he went? Think of my writing detritus as my dust cloud.
This is such a wonderful post, Elizabeth. I think everyone has insecurities in the creative arts. I’m so jealous you are going to meet Diane. You two are two of my favorite bloggers. Have fun.
Karen
What you do has to be art if you take that mess (middle table)and make it into one of your wonderful books.
JUST KIDDING about the mess–not about your wonderful books.
Have fun tomorrow. Wish I could be there.
T
Haha, that’s funny because I’ve always considered writers to be artists! Even bakers and cooks are artists. There are so many professions and jobs out there that take a creative approach, and I consider that art. :)
Glad you had a good time at the exhibition!
Oh, I think this is fabulous! I wouldn’t be sure what to display either, though the storyboard I did for my first cozy might be nice. But yeah… mostly papers with curled edges and coffee smudges. teehee. nice to know other types of artists have the same insecurities.
Now that is definitely trying something different.
Looking forward to meeting you at Book ‘Em, Elizabeth.
I don’t think my stack of notes and notebooks would really impress anyone.
H Elizabeth .. such a great post – “have faith” – should be our motto .. and people are interested they wouldn’t bother to attend otherwise .. if no-one’s interested in us – we can tag on to someone else and learn about their craft a little ..
Cheers Hilary
I like to philosophize a bit. I try to be willing to “take that leap in the dark.” I tell myself that “the lowly turtle can only get ahead by sticking his neck out.” And last, I remind myself that “I’ve got nothing to lose but something I didn’t have in the first place.” Works for me.
Laura–You’re absolutely right. And flower arrangers, too, I think. So many different ways to make art!
Hart–A storyboard would have been a lot more impressive, I think! Yeah, mine were all about the coffee stained crumply pages! Ha!
Diane–Me too!
Alex–Yep, I didn’t think mine would, either!
The Daring Novelist said…
This is an opportunity disguised as a problem: It’s often said that to do great things, artists need to learn to embrace failure.
You make such a good point. It’s really the best way to grow…by stretching ourselves and recognizing and accepting the fact that we’re not perfect. The whole process of writing a book is about failing over and over again throughout the process in little ways–the stilted dialogue, the humor that wasn’t funny, etc…and then improving because of the failure.
Elspeth–Pigpen was always one of my favorites! And I know what you mean. I can open up my car door and bits of stories come spilling out of my car. Sigh.
Hilary–I was really fascinated by the different types of art that were represented there. So much creativity in one place! It was very inspiring.
Karen–I’m looking forward to meeting her! :)
Journaling Woman–You’re sweet! And there’s a lot more mess where that mess came from, believe me…ha!
Nancy–That’s a good way of looking at it. And you’re right–we have nothing to lose and a shot at gaining something great. :)
I hope you had a good time and gained some readers, too.
I sort of know how you feel about calling yourself an artist. And yet when you stop to really think about it, writers are artists. We create something that before was only in our heads. And if we’re lucky and good at what we do, it’s a beautiful thing.
If I’d been to that room, your table would be the first place I’d visit. Not because I know what a fabulous artist you are, but because it would be so interesting – like seeing into someone’s mind. Courage is when we get up on our horse, pick up our sword, and move into the battlefield – in spite of our fear. You did that, Word Warrior!
Helen–You are so right and put it perfectly. And I do really feel that way…but it was so hard to remember that in a room full of paintings and woodwork!
Jan–Word Warrior! I like that. :) I’d love to see your scribblings, too!
I’ve lived a charmed life that has allowed me to create art through acting, designing, and writing. I believe we all have a creative core and we can manifest our talents once we learn tools of expression in a specific area.