Tag Archives: Julia Cameron

On writing self-help, or have you eaten your tail lately?


https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20171204-the-ancient-symbol-that-spanned-millennia

I’ve been researching the “how to write/edit your book and get it published” industry as I prepare for my editing work and it is starting to make me laugh.

It’s an ouroborus, that magical snake eating its tail. There’s a lovely article on BBC about the history of this symbol, which is used to denote the cycle of life, the never-ending story, birth and rebirth. It’s been around forever, as, I suspect, has the self-help industry.

All of it makes me think of all those people who sell books telling you to market your book before you even start writing it- to check what sells and then write to the market. Most of the books they have sold, these marketing-focused authors, are self-help in one way or another. Cheery blandishments about living for today, stress management, decluttering, how to market yourself, write that novel now!, etc etc. It goes on and on and on.

Either that or a stories about werewolves in a post-apocalyptic world where there are three suns and 14 moons.

In the writing field, it seems to be the thing to write a book telling people how to write. I’ve been fooled into purchasing several of these, having been told they were “must reads” if you want to understand the writing process. A few are good. One or two are extremely valuable. And the rest? Ummm.

I’m getting cranky now, as I get older. I’ve also bought too many of these tomes, only to open them and realize there is nothing inside but babble and dross, most of it promoting other self-help or writing books. And when I read things like the “Self-Publishing Formula” and am told these authors are cranking out a book a month, I can’t help wondering if all the things being spun out are of any worth at all. (After all, writing a book seems to take me YEARS!) But people sell them, and promote them within the community, all telling everyone that that book by their friend must be read.

And so the snake goes on, eating its tail, being reborn as yet another self-help book, forever.

One of the most visible ouroboros writers is Julia Cameron. She had a good idea, with her “The Artist’s Way” book, and she has been spinning out the morning pages and artist dates ideas into book after book after book – all with essentially the same content. I’m not sure if I am envious of her success at persuading publishers to buy in over and over again, or just irritated that so many trees are being killed to produce the same thing over and over, with a slightly different take. I mean, I know the lass has to make a living, but I do wish for fresh ideas.

It’s really tough to come up with a creative, original story line for fiction, romance, science fiction, mystery. In these areas, rehashing the exact same ideas is somewhat frowned upon. I suspect it is less tough to come out with a book on truisms and how-tos. Or involving werewolves.

I expect publishers like the non-fiction things, too, in that people keep buying them, never mind the post-purchase regret. And much of the self-help industry relies on well-written book blurbs that lead us to expect great things from the enclosed advice. So we buy, and regret.

I adore good non-fiction, the stuff that is carefully researched, that shines a light into an area I know nothing about. I’m always looking for new sources of knowledge. See: Entangled Life: How Fungi make our worlds, change our minds and shape our futures by Merlin Sheldrake (Such a glorious name for someone writing on fungi! I mean, he thanks the fungi from which he has learned in acknowledgements! I love him already.)

But the ouroboros of retelling the same mundane details and self-help advice that is written in poetic smarm – that I can do without.

Thank heavens for libraries that allow you to dip in without financial commitment – and yet the authors get a bit of a payback nonetheless, enough to compensate for the work they’ve done reworking concepts. I always buy the ones I find useful. I suspect Mr. Sheldrake will gain a spot on my bookshelf.

Oh, Mae West, how I wish I’d known you…


original“Whenever I have to choose between two evils, I always like to try the one I haven’t tried before”, she said.

She sounds like me, totally resistant to treading the same path, always looking for new experiences, unable to commit to a true path, even in evils.

I’m doing the 3rd chapter of The Artist’s Way and it is about recovering power and healing the childhood hurts that exist within us.  I find this, on page 68, talking about the fear of punishment:

“Many artists begin a piece of work, get well along in it, and then find, as they near completion, that the work seems mysteriously drained of merit. It’s no longer worth the trouble. To therapists, this sudden surge of disinterest (“It doesn’t matter”) is a routine coping device employed to deny pain and ward off vulnerability.”

Aha.

A wise friend of mine told me yesterday that both she and I are adjusting to being “visible” again, putting ourselves out there where we can be seen and judged. My son recently asked me why I never send writing to magazines and such, only enter contests and classes.  I know why I do. If I have to rush to a deadline, or submit to a crazy set of protocols or be a student, I can make the result not matter, still be part of my learning. I’m not ready to take the training wheels off, for some reason. So instead I leap from activity to activity, trying out the new activities…instead of focusing on one or two and seeing it to the end point. It’s like when I did pottery classes and pulled up cylinders, only to cut every single one in half to see how even I’d made it, never seeing the piece to its final stages.

All of this is a part of the recovery I am working on – the recovery of self-esteem after the loss of my job in horrible disarray after my diagnosis of MS and later breakdown, the recovery of my soul after a long time ignoring it and covering it over with iron and glass, the recovery of the ability to accept love, maybe even return it, after marital and familial wounds. Been hurt, yes, still smarting, yes. It’s gone far enough I do not allow myself a moment’s pride in what I have accomplished. I need to get past this.

I’d like to sit with Mae, have a cigar, talk about where she really was about this evils thing,intardaetà and whether her tough exterior covered a world of hurt and self-doubt, and how she pulled her spirit out of that and moved on.

Revisiting THE ARTIST’S WAY


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Julia Cameron has made a life out of morning pages, those three pages of brain dump that she encourages everyone to do every morning without fail. In The Artist’s Wayshe starts her journey, to be followed by many more books on the same theme.

Like Natalie Goldman, she says the same things, over and over. And yet…

This first book is rich. It is deep and thoughtful and effective. I haven’t looked at it for years, actually gave it away, until a friend of mine started it recently and I had to go out and buy another copy.

There’s something about the practices of those morning pages, the artist’s date, the examination and thought about creativity that makes you do a bit of growing inside. I recommend it highly to people who are feeling blocked, or uncreative, or sad. It will tow your thoughts to a more expansive location, allow you to feel the joy of creation again, lift your sails. (Marine analogy courtesy of looking out my window at the ocean).

I’m glad I bought a fresh new copy, with none of my old thoughts littering up the pages. I’m different than I was ten or so years ago, my goals are different, the things flying out of my head are different.
I need to wander through them, pick them up like stones on the beach, turn them over, decide if I want to tuck them in my pocket or toss them back into the sea. The Artist’s Way will help me as I wander…

Loving your inner editor, or why too much freewriting might screw you up


Everyone seems to love freewriting. Julia Cameron, with her morning pages, even Sarah Selecky in her

Story is a state of mind

online course (which I’ve just started). Everyone in writing classes and conferences and lectures and such tell we learning writers to just write and write and write, and never mind the level of crap that spills from our pens.
The aim is good – get the writer over the hump of feeling ridiculous or frozen into immobility.
I’ve got a million journals filled up with my scrawling, and then there’s this blog thing. I love writing down vignettes of scenes at the coffee shop, doodling writings with the starter of “I remember”, digging in my head to clarify my thinking, sort out my loose threads, play with the colours of the windmills of my mind.
I seek comfy pens that can skim across the page without slowing my thoughts. I choose journals carefully so the paper has just the right give.
Have I published a lot of stories, novels, articles?
Nope. I’m having too much fun freewriting with my writing time. It’s easy. It doesn’t need a plot, well-drawn characters, believability. I can tell myself I am a writer simply because I am writing, right? It’s not about having people read my writings, is it?
I would actually argue that most freewriting is really another source of procrastination. Sure, if you can’t get going, do a bit here and there. Explore a thought while you warm up your creative mind.
But Cameron’s 3 pages daily risks exhausting that creative spark on what really often ends up being pages of dreck.
Sure, sometimes there’s something to mine from the pages. Sometimes an idea will pop up that is worth pursuing. Not often, though.
What needs to happen is the hard work of writing a coherent story, rewriting it, and finding it a home. Clutch your inner editors in an embrace and welcome them then – they are just what you need.
Because writing is meant to be good. It’s meant to mean something. It is meant to be shared.