Go Home and Start Writing

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Sharing the stage

Not so long ago, I was at a festival listening to a series of writers read from their recently published books. As can happen at these events, the writers slated to share their work that evening were at various stages of their career. A first-time author came after a writer who had published several widely acclaimed novels.

The reading from the more established writer had the entire audience captivated. The writer took us deep into the story. I could clearly visualize the scene and feel the intense emotions between the characters. And the language. Oh my, the language. You know that feeling when you come upon really good writing. It can be overpowering, the flood of admiration and sudden stillness, the delight of deep listening.

Pausing to reflect

A roar of applause followed the reading and the next writer came to the mic. He was at the start of his journey. His first book had been published and he’d been invited to read with the other writers at the festival. He had important things to say and he said them well.

But before opening his book to the spot marked by a post-it note, he praised the author who came before him. We’d all just finished a long round of applause, so there was no doubt that the room was with him in his acknowledgment. What amazed me was the depth of his calm. If I’d been asked to read after such a great writer, I’m pretty sure I’d feel awkward.

It’s one thing to be awed sitting comfortably in the audience and a whole other experience to be the next person on stage. But this writer stood in silence, unconcerned it seemed about who might be watching him. While the large audience waited for him to begin, a reverent look came over his face. With true humility, he said, “I can’t wait to go home and start writing.”

More space to play

Rather than being discouraged by the other writer’s abilities, he turned that person’s excellence into his motivation. I’ve thought a lot about that night and the idea of using admiration as a reason to work harder.

The standard model of competition says one person wins and everyone else loses. Under this model, if another writer is better than you, there is little point trying—you have already lost.

What if instead of a win/lose equation, we looked at comparisons as a way of delineating opportunities? If one writer finds new possibilities in form, it expands what is possible for all of us. If a sentence seems almost to burst your heart, remember what that felt like and dream of the day when a sentence that powerful comes through your fingers. Then go home and start writing.

Debbie Bateman's avatar

By Debbie Bateman

Debbie Bateman is a graduate of The Writer’s Studio at Simon Fraser University. Her short stories and personal essays have been published in anthologies and literary magazines. She works as an editor for Thompson Rivers University and was formerly the fiction interviews editor for The Artisanal Writer. Her collection of linked short stories about peri-menopausal women, "Your Body Was Made for This," was published by Ronsdale Press. A proud mother of three sons, Debbie lives in Quw’utsun (Cowichan) on Vancouver Island with her husband and soulmate. She is a Buddhist of Scottish/Irish descent and a quiet rebel.

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