Working as a mentor for other writers is one of the most rewarding aspects of my job. I feel very privileged that my mentees put their faith in me, not just in my ability as a teacher or an editor, but also in my ability as a cheerleader, because that’s realistically what a writing mentor should do (or at least that’s how I see it) – they should be there to help a writer with the actual business of writing, but they should also be there to help them with the more psychological stuff like writer’s block and imposter syndrome, those questions that build up inside us like “Is there any value in my work?” “Why is writing so hard?” “How can other writers churn out their words so quickly?” “Why can’t I write in the same way I was able to in the past?”
This is exactly what I needed to read right now. I've been venturing into the desert for a few months now. Sometimes I go along quite happily for a while. Yesterday was not one of those days. It's encouraging to understand this is part of the process.
What an excellent - and reassuring - piece, read from the safety of my personal oasis. I really should venture out from time to time! Your thoughts make good sense, thank you. And I look forward to reading a story about Paco Rabane the Dromedary (my goodness, Paco Rabane takes me back to student days!)
Yes please, I'd be interested in your Curious Curations workshop.
An excellent post that rang bells with me, Matt. I spend far too much time in the comfortable oasis of writing about my childhood. I need to collar a camel and ride into the desert. Serendipitously, this notion came up (though not with the same metaphor) in a workshop by Catherine McNamara - during yesterday's excellent Retreat West Flash Fest. Catherine urged us to decentralise our writing and imagine ourselves being observed by someone else. Item: I would be very interested in a workshop on Curious Curations.
Fascinating stuff from Matt here. The trap of comparison is something I have battled with, through the many years when I dabbled with being a writer, but didn’t commit because I compared myself unfavourably with others.
In the last decade, when I have taken myself seriously as a writer (and a writing teacher), that curse of comparison still continues at times. You see others pushing ahead, winning prizes, getting book deals etc, while you feel stranded, pressured to retreat into the comfort of what you know works, rather than risking further anxiety and failure by exploring the Discomfort Zone.
The reality is of course that no-one’s development as a writer is a smooth upward curve. Few debut authors of novels or short fiction collections come from nowhere, fully equipped with all the talent they need. It’s just hard sometimes to know that rationally AND feel it in the vulnerable place that is your creative core. Sometimes you just want something, anything, to come easily, like it 'seems to' for others.
It comes back, as it so often does, to acceptance, to perseverance, to resilience.
This is exactly what I needed to read right now. I've been venturing into the desert for a few months now. Sometimes I go along quite happily for a while. Yesterday was not one of those days. It's encouraging to understand this is part of the process.
What an excellent - and reassuring - piece, read from the safety of my personal oasis. I really should venture out from time to time! Your thoughts make good sense, thank you. And I look forward to reading a story about Paco Rabane the Dromedary (my goodness, Paco Rabane takes me back to student days!)
Yes please, I'd be interested in your Curious Curations workshop.
An excellent post that rang bells with me, Matt. I spend far too much time in the comfortable oasis of writing about my childhood. I need to collar a camel and ride into the desert. Serendipitously, this notion came up (though not with the same metaphor) in a workshop by Catherine McNamara - during yesterday's excellent Retreat West Flash Fest. Catherine urged us to decentralise our writing and imagine ourselves being observed by someone else. Item: I would be very interested in a workshop on Curious Curations.
Matt, I'd be very interested in 'Curious Curations'. Saving this article for a read on the ferry later. Warmly, as ever, Barrie
I agree with your comments. I do similar work.
On a personal note: I just hate the word 'mentee' (and I won't use it).
What a pity there isn't a good alternative! 🙂
Fascinating stuff from Matt here. The trap of comparison is something I have battled with, through the many years when I dabbled with being a writer, but didn’t commit because I compared myself unfavourably with others.
In the last decade, when I have taken myself seriously as a writer (and a writing teacher), that curse of comparison still continues at times. You see others pushing ahead, winning prizes, getting book deals etc, while you feel stranded, pressured to retreat into the comfort of what you know works, rather than risking further anxiety and failure by exploring the Discomfort Zone.
The reality is of course that no-one’s development as a writer is a smooth upward curve. Few debut authors of novels or short fiction collections come from nowhere, fully equipped with all the talent they need. It’s just hard sometimes to know that rationally AND feel it in the vulnerable place that is your creative core. Sometimes you just want something, anything, to come easily, like it 'seems to' for others.
It comes back, as it so often does, to acceptance, to perseverance, to resilience.
Thanks for sharing this Matt. Ken.