Growing my characters and myself...

My husband used to play with a singer who had a pretty limited vocal range. People would suggest he take singing lessons to help him expand upon his talents. However, he refused out of fear that training his voice would take away its natural honesty. He did not want to come off as contrived. I thought about this as I was riding to the cabin in Colorado last week. I was talking with an author about different writing techniques. I asked him, did he not feel that using these techniques made his writing feel forced? His answer was, no, they help me to get my point across more effectively.

Today I was reading more of my new book on writing, and I fell in love. The author explains so many seemingly obvious methods of writing that I had never thought of myself. And, suddenly, I understood what my author friend had meant. Utilizing some of these ideas could make my characters come alive and jump right off the page. I was so excited I wanted to read more.

In addition to all of the surprising revelations I experienced last week, I found that I can handle criticism. How freeing a realization! As I have written, I had previously never shown my work to anyone, excepting one boyfriend and my husband. When I received criticism from these two readers, I was upset, because from them, I was expecting simply a show of support. But, having these as my only prior experiences with criticism, I feared this week's encounters with my readers. I fully expected myself to end up a sniveling little five-year-old throwing a tantrum on the floor. I was wrong. (Thank God.)

When I took in the comments from each of the experts- the author, the agent, the editors, my friend- I actually craved more. I felt distanced just enough from my work to see it as this thing that I wanted to grow. I did not see it as an attached limb- something to become defensive about, the way I had imagined I would. Talking with my friend was the most enlightening, because he gave me some great ways to grow my character, again obvious things that would have never occurred to me. And, that's when I knew I was a writer. I felt about my work the way I would feel about a child. I realized I want my story to have the best. I want my characters to be understood. But without this outside input, that would be nearly impossible.

This evening, as I was reading my book on my back porch, I thought about this in relation to ordinary defensiveness. When people discuss religion and politics, opinions and feelings fly, yet not much gets accomplished. I think this is because of what Byron Katie refers to as our being attached to our thoughts. What I think about governmental issues and how I feel about God are thoughts in my mind. My attachment to them can be harmful if I allow it to make me defensive, distancing myself from others. But if I can severe that appendage just enough to distance myself slightly, I would be more accepting of others' opinions about life. And, I might even learn something.

I think people are so afraid of feeling forced that instead of openly listening to the thoughts and ideas of others, they push them away out of fear. Just because I listened to my friend's ideas for my character does not mean I have to take them. Similarly, just because I listen to someone else's view on religion does not mean I have to assume it. But I can respect it and be thankful for their willingness to share it, and possibly take something from it that makes me grow.


This is one of my favorite shots from the week. The field where the foxes lived was filled with old sheds, an old house, and old rusted farming equipment. I couldn't stop playing the 10,000 Maniacs song, Gold Rush Brides, in my head the whole time we were there.