I get this a lot. “Oh, you’re so lucky, you can write. I can’t write.” When I hear this, I wonder if it means that the person isn’t interested in writing, and is politely communicating, I’m glad you’re doing it—cause it’s soooo boring. Or does it mean, I wanted to write but I felt like I wasn’t talented enough because some jerko said that my writing sucked and I took it to heart—that my potential as a writer would never be realized because I’m a failure with words?
I guess I should ask people what they mean. And, maybe, next time I will, but I haven’t so far. This is because I imagine what I think they mean. This is where my fiction writing mindset comes in. I like to make up stuff. Anyway, if the person means that they are not interested, then fine. It’s like me and car engines. At this current point in time, I’m not interested in becoming a mechanic. If someone starts to talk about carburetors, I completely tune out. Now, maybe, if I were working on a manuscript about a person who worked on cars, I’d tune back in. I’d have an authentic reason to want to learn, but right now carburetors are just pieces of machinery I’d rather not spend time learning about. End of story.
Same goes for writing. There are those who might appreciate good writing when they read it, but they are not interested in apprenticing how it all really works. You know, the mechanics, the structures—and all those storytelling tools. About as boring as a wrench is to me.
But what about the other folks? Do they want to write, but are just afraid they don’t have the right stuff? To those people, I say you have been handed a leaky burned out car battery. Anyone can learn to write. Sorry, I just don’t agree with the people who say it’s only natural born talent blah blah blah. I believe it’s all about desire and a willingness to apprentice the forms. Look, everyone’s first drafts sucks. Believe me, I know mine do, even though when I write them I think they’re brilliant and worry what will I do when I am nominated for too many awards. I’ve read early manuscripts of what became major award winners and they were bird turd. But…after a few drafts, maybe, there is something there, maybe the potential is coming to light, and, eventually, the draft isn’t bad, and, then maybe, it’s good. And beyond that, we can all shoot for greatness, but I think that’s a rather vague thing, isn’t it? I mean whose idea of greatness is it anyway? I think if the story is really working and the author had fun and it’s at a place where there is a readership, most likely, it will be someone’s idea of greatness. So all of you “I wish I could write people,” you can write. The thing is—do you want to? And that’s a question I ask myself every day. And the only correct answer (for me) is—to write.
Footnote: By writing, I mean the whole gamut here. This could be writing, re-writing, editing, planning, imagining, line editing and polishing, deleting, doing research. It’s all part of writing. So, if you want to write, get to it!
The Treat: This is the last stanza of the poem Can’t by Edgar Albert Guest.
My fabulous fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Chase, had us memorize it (well, an edited version of this). I always think of it when I think I can’t do something, which is usually means writing.
Can’t is the word that is foe to ambition,
An enemy ambushed to shatter your will;
Its prey is forever the man with a mission
And bows but to courage and patience and skill.
Hate it, with hatred that’s deep and undying,
For once it is welcomed ’twill break any man;
Whatever the goal you are seeking, keep trying
And answer this demon by saying: “I can.”
To read the whole poem, go to http://allpoetry.com/poem/8471321-Cant-by-Edgar_Albert_Guest
Thanks for the encouragement, Hillary! I’m going to share that poem with the kids.
That’s great, Frank. In fifth grade, I memorized a version of this and it seriously sticks with me. It’s like one step beyond THE LITTLE ENGINE THAT COULD, who muttered, “I think I can.” This is all about — I can and I will! This is the official edited version of the poem (emailed to me by my fifth grade teacher that we memorized).
Can’t is a word that is foe to ambition.
An enemy ambush to shatter your will.
Its foe is forever a man with a mission
And bows but to courage, and patience, and skill.
So whatever the goal in life you are seeking,
Answer the demon, “I Can’t,” with “I WILL”.
By, Anonymous
Thank you for your encouraging essay. I have this beautiful poem by Denise Levertov in my studio that feeds me every time I read it:
Variation on a Theme by Rilke
A certain day became a presence to me;
there it was, confronting me – a sky, air, light:
a being. And before it started to descend
from the height of noon, it leaned over
and struck my shoulder as if with
the flat of a sword, granting me
honor and a task. The day’s blow
rang out, metallic or it was I, a bell awakened,
and what I heard was my whole self
saying and singing what I knew: I can.
— Denise Levertov
Oh, I’m liking our collection of “can” poems.
Here’s another:
The Victor
by: C. W. Longenecker
If you think you are beaten, you are.
If you think you dare not, you don’t.
If you like to win but think you can’t,
It’s almost a cinch you won’t.
If you think you’ll lose, you’re lost.
For out in the world we find
Success begins with a fellow’s will.
It’s all in the state of mind.
If you think you are out classed, you are.
You’ve got to think high to rise.
You’ve got to be sure of your-self before
You can ever win the prize.
Life’s battles don’t always go
To the stronger or faster man.
But sooner or later, the man who wins
Is the man who thinks he can.
What fun to connect with my former students! Hillary had quite a gift of writing in elementary school and we ran the race of fifth grade together! The version of, “Can’t,” that I taught forty years of students who I worked with in the public schools was meant to encourage them to go after their goals and to work as long as it took to achieve them. It is like tying the knot in the rope to hang on for a little longer! The version I taught my students was given to me by a classmate in a statistics class when I was taking graduate school and I was working hard and still not doing quite well. On the day I was to drop the class I came back from break in my class to find the version of this poem in my place in my book. All the tears that flowed were from realizing the outreach of someone who wanted me not to give up and not to drop the class. Thus, I put the word Anonymous at the end of this version of, “Can’t,” to give credit as I knew it then to the person who gave this incentive to me. The short of the story is that I passed the statistics class with a C with A’s in other subjects to balance it out to keep me in the graduate program. Above our handwashing sink in the classroom I posted from time to time the poster I bought at a Hallmark store which showed Wiley Coyote and the Road Runner at a waterfall with Wiley Coyote trying to swim UP a waterfall with the caption, “Ever have one of those days?” These things were to encourage, “my kids,” who I “adopted for a lifetime,” to work hard and to realize dreams by taking whatever time was needed to do so. I STILL say this poem to myself as I tackle things and having had two knee replacement surgeries in 2011 the poem, “Can’t,” served me well as I worked through a wonderful PT program. To Hillary….. I continue to cheer her on as she continues on her path of dreams and accomplishments! I am so thrilled to see that she is still using her gift of writing!
Thanks, Jeanne! It’s so exciting to be able to call you Jeanne now 🙂 I think we all need to internalize an I- can mantra, and yours has been with me for a long time. It was a gift that I truly appreciate. And the canoe trip, too. That went hand in hand with the verse. Luckily, unlike Wiley Coyote we didn’t have to paddle upstream, but if I have one those days, I know what my mantra will be…