I can’t get the image of Viv Albertine out of my head, from
’s post last week.She taught herself guitar by lying on her bed and waiting. She played around with making sounds on the guitar, but mostly was waiting for a sound, a specific type of sound, that she knew she was getting closer to. She says, “Every day the task seems hopeless and I feel like giving up. I lie on my bed a lot, just holding the guitar, feeling like a fraud.”
I keep thinking of her, lying there with her guitar, doing nothing but waiting. And I’m struck by the worry that that doesn’t happen much anymore. If Viv Albertine were a 22-year-old in 2022, chances are she would pick up her phone and sever the thread of creativity, the thread that was leading her closer to that sound she was waiting for. She might post something and wait for quick feedback from outside.
But in that stage (what we’ll call the “waiting for the sound” stage), the feedback you need is from inside yourself. You need to listen to yourself, your gut, and the sounds in your head that approximate the ones you’re waiting for. It’s not a time to listen to the feedback of others, and especially not strangers. We’re so quick these days to sever that thread and give ourselves over to strangers. So often, in this waiting-for-the-sound part, the feedback we’re getting from our inner gut is: you’re not nearly good enough yet. And we know that if we go to a stranger, they might say, “Good for you! You’re awesome!” and then we’ll feel like we have accomplished something.
Right now I have some picture book manuscripts that I’ve been working on for a long time, and which are getting closer to done, and I want to rush them, but I know that’s not the right thing to do. They are coming to me slowly, and I could call them done right now, but I know in my gut that they are not done yet. It’s all such a slow build. Little bit by little bit, and they’ll be done when they’re done. But it’s hard.
There’s this thing now in modern life where we’re conditioned to think all our work needs to be sharable in some form. Post your progress! Tell us what you’ve done! Share a photo of you, lying on your bed, holding that guitar, hashtag waiting. I have been guilty of this, sharing my progress and doing my best to make it good content. I’m finding (especially now that I’ve stepped away from social media) that the real work is not much of a photo op. It’s boring. The slow, steady work is not particularly sexy or shareable until the very end. We need to recondition ourselves to know that’s ok. It’s ok to be by yourself, working on things, and not make it pretty so you can share it with others.
Take your time. Protect your creativity. Wait for the sound that you know is coming.
Shameless Holiday Book-Buying Plug
It is Thanksgiving week here in the U.S., which means holiday shopping is barreling toward us. If you have any inclination to give someone a signed and personalized book, you can always order my books from my local indie bookstore, Print: A Bookstore. All of my books from Print are signed, and if you want the inscription personalized, and write the instructions on your online order page (“Please write ‘Happy December, Mopsie, Love Cottontail’”, or whatever).
Here’s a quick guide:
Snappsy the Alligator (Did Not Ask to Be in This Book) is snarky metafiction about an alligator who is annoyed that he’s in a book all of a sudden. You can hear David Harbour read it. The sequel, Snappsy the Alligator and His Best Friend Forever (Probably) continues the story, and includes wearing pizza as a hat and the word “pinochle.” (Print | Bookshop)
No Boring Stories is about a bunny who wants to write weird stories. It’s essentially my memoir. There is a pile of sandwiches in it, and also a nuclear explosion. (Print | Bookshop)
Yours in Books was pitched by my agent as “84, Charing Cross Road meets the Hundred Acre Wood,” which is accurate. It has a map on the endpapers, and a cake shaped like an acorn. (Print | Bookshop)
The Great Indoors is about all the woodland animals who go on vacation inside a house for the week the human family goes camping. It includes an overcaffeinated baby skunk, a deer licking a stick of butter, and beavers making casseroles. (Print | Bookshop)
Rick the Rock of Room 214 tells the story of a rock who lives on the Nature Finds shelf in an elementary school classroom, who realizes that most rocks have outdoor adventures. So he decides to go outside, which isn’t easy, since he’s a rock. There is an exploding volcano. The rock on the cover actually feels like a rock, sort of. (Print | Bookshop)
The four Two Dogs in a Trench Coat books (1, 2, 3, 4) are about two dogs who love their boy so much that they decide to stack up, throw on a trench coat, and matriculate as a human student so they can go to school with him. They fool everyone (except their boy, who recognizes them immediately). The dogs are hilarious and obsessed with food, and they misinterpret everything. These are heavily-illustrated chapter books, perfect for grades 2-5. There are terrific audiobooks of these also. (Print | Bookshop)
Thoughts and Links
I talked about how to write an epistolary book over at Stefanie Hohl’s PB Writing Challenge, and I share some of my favorite old postcards (ones that were written on) (by other people).
I liked this George Saunders interview in Esquire, especially this part:
I’m still thinking about Steve Keene and his assembly-line approach to art. I appreciate this: “This is a 30-year affordable art experiment that he’s been undertaking. It’s dramatic, it’s joyful and it’s created a community of fans that are very loyal.” I love his energy and his rituals. Creating 300,000 paintings and selling them for $10 each does add up to something, eventually (even over 30 years, $3,000,000 is nothing to sneeze at). However, the thought of managing the boxing and shipping of all those paintings overwhelms me.
Waiting for the sound
Julie, that Steve Keen article is so interesting! Thank you for sharing--I had never heard of he or his art before.
AND I love your take on epistolary picture books (related: Yours in Books is so, so good). I have, so far, ever written only one epistolary PB manuscript, and after I finally shared it for a critique, the editor correctly identified it as early MG, which was super embarrassing, hilarious and 1000 percent accurate upon reflection. (The emotional core was wrong for PB, really.) She did at least want to see the the early MG if/when I ever finish it (working on it now!)--but clearly I can use all the epistolary PB tips I can get because that one was very much a bust!
I love how directly character voice develops in epistolary writing--like it's two one-sided conversations, course-correcting and adapting at intersections, instead of throughout (like dialogue). I feel like that gives the characters more opportunity to reflect on what's being said in a natural way--I mean, outside of maybe Oprah or Terry Gross, who has the ability to truly reflect WHILE simultaneously holding up their side of a spoken conversation?
I was at a David Sedaris reading with my teen last night and he had a piece about folk art and how he thought maybe Yelp reviews are kind of folk writing because you can really "know" a person after reading one. Anyhow, your postcard examples brought that to mind for me--folk writing. Maybe folk writing is when an "untrained" writer flexes their voice through written words--even if just on a postcard? There can be something powerful about almost primal writing--pregnant words, arranged in unexpected, immediate ways. It's something I will be mulling over!
Have a lovely week! If I don't meet enough of my goals to treat myself to reading things as they post, have an amazing Thanksgiving, Julie!
Feeling these words of wisdom this morning, Julie! I've just had a weekend of reminding myself that my writing cannot be rushed, and solitude with my thoughts is essential to producing the words that are right.
Thanks for the book recommendations, and for sharing YOUR books! I'm adding them to my wishlist for Storytime at Planters--free events for our community kids where they hear new stories and get to choose one brand new book to take home. Also ordering a couple to put in our Little Free Library. I love discovering new childrens books!