The other day, a non-writer friend of mine complimented me on how I was able to complete a certain writing project on top of my other work. Being naturally dismissive of compliments, I responded, “Oh, writing comes easy for me.”
And then I wondered why I had just lied to my friend.
Writing doesn’t come easy for me. I doubt it comes easy for anyone. And lying about it perpetuates a myth about creative people that I despise: the myth of natural talent, of people who produce great things without effort.
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I’m not about to deny that talent is important, or that it even exists. I’m a music teacher; I can compare two kids who work equally hard and achieve unequal results, even after years of comparable education and opportunities. Talent is real, but it only gets you about 15% of the way to success. The other 85% is hard work.
Emphasis on the “hard.” Not “coming easy,” as I told my friend.
But I also understand why I said it. In that brief moment of compliment disorientation, I forgot about the hours and years of work I’d put in on my writing, and simply spoke to how I felt about the project she was referring to. The truth is, though the whole of my writing career isn’t easy, I’ve gotten to the point where it sometimes feels that way. I’ve put in enough time and work on my process to experience the occasional burst that simply comes out of my fingers, with little effort and great joy. This blog post, for example: I’m writing its first draft in about twenty minutes at the end of a long, tiring day. I could never have done that three years ago. My blog-writing time has gotten shorter over the years, because I’ve gotten into the habit of writing pieces of similar length and tone. The hard work I’ve done in the past makes the current work feel easier. That’s what I should have told my friend, if I was being completely honest.
As Norton Juster wrote in The Phantom Tollbooth, one of my favorite children’s books of all time:
“You’ll find,” [the Mathmagician] remarked gently, “that the only thing you can do easily is be wrong, and that’s hardly worth the effort.”
Have you ever told a lie about your writing life?
Every time people ask how my story is coming along and I say, “Slowly” even though I haven’t looked at it in days (or months), I’m lying. But I’m afraid of what they’ll say or think if I respond with the truth of how hard it is or that I’m stuck.
Tracy, thank you for sharing that. I often feel the same way. Just remember that when you answer truthfully, you’re doing it as much for yourself as for others. It might make you feel better to tell people how hard it is, or that you’re stuck, even if they say the wrong thing. I think it’s even harder to be honest to yourself than to others. That’s the main reason I feel ashamed for lying about writing… in that moment, I was lying to myself as much as I was to my friend.