So true! I continue to grapple with 'what's the point' of making art. But I think it's important to remember that it's also about the process - what's discovered on the way. If we didn't take part, we wouldn't discover those things are only hidden in the depths of the creative process itself. Your timely post also coincides with a daily blogging challenge I've started for May, which as visual artist makes me feel wholly uncomfortable and out of my depth. A 31 day writing challenge. It's day 1, and it's excruciating, feels pointless and I'm asking why because I'm not a writer? But the curiosity of what will be discovered in those pointless musings are enough to keep me coming back to my keyboard ;)
Agree! Well timed. I usually star important newsletters for later so I can focus on my work but I am getting in the habit of reading these first thing, with my tea. They so often give me heart. Today: “Uncertainty is a virtue, and the tolerance of uncertainty.” And: “when I succeed, there is nothing in life—except love—that equally verifies my existence” I would substitute “celebrates” for “verifies”
Again, perfect timing with this wise reflection! The same goes for my films. If my own personal inner conflict isn't connected to the story, it's impossible to even make it. That's why making art is excruciating, but also cathartic (sometimes, haha). Thank you, Mason!
I recently heard this quote from Vivian Gornick which struck me, in reference to memoirs where the narrator is entirely innocent and the antagonist is entirely a monster: "For the drama to deepen, we must see the loneliness of the monster and the cunning of the innocent." Oof, but also... yes. I know I write, in part, to figure out what I think about things, but also to see myself more clearly, in all my messy complexity. Because without all that mess I'm not a real person, but only a caricature of a person. So, perhaps, that's the benefit of all that angst, if you can avoid using it to actually torture yourself (which is no benefit to anyone). It helps remind you of your own humanity, and if you can bring that to the page then you're touching on the real, which I believe is what makes great writing.
First, a favorite saying of Brother Cadfael (from the Masterpiece series starring Derek Jacobi), "Sometimes I like to introduce the sand of doubt into the oyster of my faith."
Second, I saved this ages ago-- didn't note the source, sorry:
***
Doubting is but the forefront of faith,
a faith in the infinite growth
of an unbounded creation.
A doubting age is one of restlessness
and discontent with what is current
a doubt is an idea that is still alive.
To doubt that that past has uncovered all things
is to express faith
that many things are still to be uncovered.
To doubt that we have grown
to our full stature and knowledge
is to express faith that we may develop
into beings of such power and dignity
that we cannot as yet imagine what shall be.
***
I love this: "A doubt is an idea that is still alive."
I'm coming at this from two perspectives. As an academic writer, the writing process is super frustrating and filled with crippling self-doubt. It almost feels like I'm not doing it correctly without those feelings. And, I know I'm not alone in this. At some point, though, I decided I couldn't continue living that way. So I started to write in other genres (like Substack!) and it's been a totally different experience. I guess, what I'm wondering, Mason, is if different genres require different levels of doubt. Writing on Substack has been psychologically much easier, but I'm also not getting as deep into a subject as I have in the past. So there's a trade-off.
Mason, this was a deeply satisfying read. I came upon your work by accident and it was exactly what I needed. I was sitting in the library waiting for my kids to pick out their books and saw a copy of "Daily Rituals: Women at Work" on a display of productivity-hack books, and I assumed it was going to be saccharine reminders to stretch or meditate or use to-do lists. 10 minutes later I was taking pictures of blocks of texts and sending them to my writer friends. It felt like absolution, recognizing that whatever I feel as internal turmoil or (manageable) madness is probably what's making me good at what I do, rather than being the big obstacle to success I've long thought it was.
Your newsletters are therapeutically insightful. I spent 5 months writing an amicus brief on a topic about which I care deeply, for two audiences: one that does not care about this topic (our Supreme Court) and the other which wants me to tell their story however unsympathetic it might be to that very Court I'm trying to persuade. I've been endlessly hard on myself that it took me so long to write it. There would be weeks in which I could not write a word, could not read another study, and then days in which I researched and wrote for 16 hours straight. Some of this is credited to my ADHD, without a doubt. But some of it was the grinding uncertainty I felt about the topic and the resulting rewriting and deleting and rewriting. The brief could have taken me 2 weeks. I have colleagues that churn these things out in a few days. But your essay reminds me that the uncertainty I felt in writing probably resulted in a more resonant piece of work than if I had just summarized the research and turned it in.
And it reminds me that my greatest enemy is myself, as no one has criticized the amount of time it took me to write, and I get positive feedback on the brief. I just can't hear the positive feedback over my own internal chiding that it took too long, and isn't going to succeed. Hopefully some of that insecurity drives me??
I look forward to these newsletters. It's some of the best writing in my life right now, and I hope to see more and more from you.
Aside from maybe having personal or professional acquaintanences that could be considered enemies.the worst enemy are our own words,especially if they come from a point of a negative,critical attitude.
I do believe the delays and strife are a gift but even more, they are part of the process. As though the writer has to grow a little more before the next part can be revealed to them.
So true! I continue to grapple with 'what's the point' of making art. But I think it's important to remember that it's also about the process - what's discovered on the way. If we didn't take part, we wouldn't discover those things are only hidden in the depths of the creative process itself. Your timely post also coincides with a daily blogging challenge I've started for May, which as visual artist makes me feel wholly uncomfortable and out of my depth. A 31 day writing challenge. It's day 1, and it's excruciating, feels pointless and I'm asking why because I'm not a writer? But the curiosity of what will be discovered in those pointless musings are enough to keep me coming back to my keyboard ;)
Agree! Well timed. I usually star important newsletters for later so I can focus on my work but I am getting in the habit of reading these first thing, with my tea. They so often give me heart. Today: “Uncertainty is a virtue, and the tolerance of uncertainty.” And: “when I succeed, there is nothing in life—except love—that equally verifies my existence” I would substitute “celebrates” for “verifies”
Again, perfect timing with this wise reflection! The same goes for my films. If my own personal inner conflict isn't connected to the story, it's impossible to even make it. That's why making art is excruciating, but also cathartic (sometimes, haha). Thank you, Mason!
"Continuing to write means I have learned to not quit."
I'm printing this off backwards and gluing it to my face so I am forced to read it every time I look in a mirror.
I recently heard this quote from Vivian Gornick which struck me, in reference to memoirs where the narrator is entirely innocent and the antagonist is entirely a monster: "For the drama to deepen, we must see the loneliness of the monster and the cunning of the innocent." Oof, but also... yes. I know I write, in part, to figure out what I think about things, but also to see myself more clearly, in all my messy complexity. Because without all that mess I'm not a real person, but only a caricature of a person. So, perhaps, that's the benefit of all that angst, if you can avoid using it to actually torture yourself (which is no benefit to anyone). It helps remind you of your own humanity, and if you can bring that to the page then you're touching on the real, which I believe is what makes great writing.
A couple of thoughts on Doubt.
First, a favorite saying of Brother Cadfael (from the Masterpiece series starring Derek Jacobi), "Sometimes I like to introduce the sand of doubt into the oyster of my faith."
Second, I saved this ages ago-- didn't note the source, sorry:
***
Doubting is but the forefront of faith,
a faith in the infinite growth
of an unbounded creation.
A doubting age is one of restlessness
and discontent with what is current
a doubt is an idea that is still alive.
To doubt that that past has uncovered all things
is to express faith
that many things are still to be uncovered.
To doubt that we have grown
to our full stature and knowledge
is to express faith that we may develop
into beings of such power and dignity
that we cannot as yet imagine what shall be.
***
I love this: "A doubt is an idea that is still alive."
Just added Orphic Paris to my TBR based solely on your summary. 😊
I'm coming at this from two perspectives. As an academic writer, the writing process is super frustrating and filled with crippling self-doubt. It almost feels like I'm not doing it correctly without those feelings. And, I know I'm not alone in this. At some point, though, I decided I couldn't continue living that way. So I started to write in other genres (like Substack!) and it's been a totally different experience. I guess, what I'm wondering, Mason, is if different genres require different levels of doubt. Writing on Substack has been psychologically much easier, but I'm also not getting as deep into a subject as I have in the past. So there's a trade-off.
Mason, this was a deeply satisfying read. I came upon your work by accident and it was exactly what I needed. I was sitting in the library waiting for my kids to pick out their books and saw a copy of "Daily Rituals: Women at Work" on a display of productivity-hack books, and I assumed it was going to be saccharine reminders to stretch or meditate or use to-do lists. 10 minutes later I was taking pictures of blocks of texts and sending them to my writer friends. It felt like absolution, recognizing that whatever I feel as internal turmoil or (manageable) madness is probably what's making me good at what I do, rather than being the big obstacle to success I've long thought it was.
Your newsletters are therapeutically insightful. I spent 5 months writing an amicus brief on a topic about which I care deeply, for two audiences: one that does not care about this topic (our Supreme Court) and the other which wants me to tell their story however unsympathetic it might be to that very Court I'm trying to persuade. I've been endlessly hard on myself that it took me so long to write it. There would be weeks in which I could not write a word, could not read another study, and then days in which I researched and wrote for 16 hours straight. Some of this is credited to my ADHD, without a doubt. But some of it was the grinding uncertainty I felt about the topic and the resulting rewriting and deleting and rewriting. The brief could have taken me 2 weeks. I have colleagues that churn these things out in a few days. But your essay reminds me that the uncertainty I felt in writing probably resulted in a more resonant piece of work than if I had just summarized the research and turned it in.
And it reminds me that my greatest enemy is myself, as no one has criticized the amount of time it took me to write, and I get positive feedback on the brief. I just can't hear the positive feedback over my own internal chiding that it took too long, and isn't going to succeed. Hopefully some of that insecurity drives me??
I look forward to these newsletters. It's some of the best writing in my life right now, and I hope to see more and more from you.
Aside from maybe having personal or professional acquaintanences that could be considered enemies.the worst enemy are our own words,especially if they come from a point of a negative,critical attitude.
I do believe the delays and strife are a gift but even more, they are part of the process. As though the writer has to grow a little more before the next part can be revealed to them.
Beautifully written. Great work. Our/my inner conflict resonates as the great force for behind my creative actions.
I needed the reassurance that uncertainty is not a bad thing this morning, so thank you!
also - alias east is THE BEST
and so is papalote! we literally used to do the same thing and bring back jars from SF hahah. chipotle is the best flav imo - what do yall think?
I checked your book out from local library when I still had a card years ago! 🤌🏾
My copy of Daily Rituals has been well-thumbed, underlined, and has a place of honor on my mantel. Happy bookaversary!