Be Yourself--In Writing and In Life

Because everyone else is taken

I’ve recently landed on a new-to-me Instagram page. It’s from Diane Shiffer, “your chubby vintage nana.” I’m very late to the Diane party because she has 523k followers on Insta and over 741k on TikTok. She’s an unlikely internet star and that’s putting it mildly. She potters around in her flowered Eileen West nightgowns and robes (some purchased off Ebay, we learn in the comments) or an April Cornell (again, flowered) dress with a Vintage sweater, arranging vintage china, making tea, or shoveling snow. All while dispensing cheerful, positive advice. Often, too, her videos are filmed as she is putting curls in her hair with bobby pins. (I put a link to them in case some of you don’t remember what they are.) She tells her followers that she loves them and calls them “my darlings.”

Cottage Core Vibe—Photo by Paige Cody on Unsplash

Her comments light up with young women telling her how much they love her, that she reminds them of their grandmother. I have to admit she’s one of the Insta feeds that I check daily—just because it’s a little whiff of inspiration and positivity.

But what I love most about her is her motto: “be so completely yourself so that everyone else feels safe to be themselves too.”

And there’s a life lesson for all of us in that. But there’s also a writing lesson.

This blog is about writing (mostly) so let’s discuss the writing lesson first. Here it is, ready? Be yourself. Okay, lesson over. Seriously, that’s all you need to know. Easiest lesson ever. And also the hardest. Because being fully and honestly yourself is scary. Even scarier is putting that full, honest self out into the world. It’s a primal thing, leftover from the days when human survival was always in doubt and sticking with the tribe was the only way to ensure it. Be too weird or different? A male refusing to hunt or a female bored with gathering? Out you went. There was no use for you in the cave.

Our lizard brains still respond to that. Being yourself is hard. Usually we take the line of least resistance: conform, toe the line, don’t make waves. I am a huge proponent and fan of education (you’re talking to a woman who went back to school to get her MFA in her late forties) but let’s face, half of what our educational system does is prepare us to be a cog in the wheel.

And so, too, with writers. We hew carefully to the expectations of genre. We follow rules of structure (The Hero’s Journey! Save the Cat! Inside-outline!) and guidelines for creating character. (Gotta have a wound and misbelief!) We subscribe to newsletters and blogs, much like this one, that tell us how to write.

But then someone like Colleen Hoover comes along and does everything her own way, because she doesn’t know any better and because she wants to do. She writes in all different genres, and her image is not that of your average young literary lion. She lives and works (or at least she used to) on a dairy farm in Texas. Or how about Katelyn Doyle, who I read about just today? Publisher’s Weekly announced the sale of her next rom-com, Just Some Stupid Love Story in a “major deal,” which in their lingo is $500k and up. Nice deal if you can get it! But, while PW is calling her a debut author, under her nom de plume as Scarlett Peckham, she’s written a slew of historical romances she calls “wicked wares.” They are not your grandmother’s romance novels (though the grandmas I write about here would love them). They are stories of “complex, ferocious, tender, women finding love, intimacy, and sexual freedom.” I couldn’t download one fast enough.

Colleen Hoover

My coach and mentor Camille Pagan always says to use 75% like everyone else (i.e., conventions of your genre) and 25% your own special sauce. I think that’s what Scarlett Peckham does—a lot the same (historical romance) and a little different (alpha women, sexual freedom, wicked ways). But putting in the special sauce—being yourself—is what is going to make you stand out. And get you that $500K book deal. Okay maybe not that, but success all the same.

How then, to foster this ability in your own work? Mostly it comes from writing. A lot. The more you write, the more facile you get with words. And the more facile you get with words the more you’re able to yourself on the page. A few tips:

—Journaling is great for developing your own voice. When it’s just you and your journal, you’re writing for yourself, and since you are not Anais Nin, your journals are not going to be published. You can be as free as you want. Following the words that pop up in your brain with abandon, listening to your own inner voice.

—Meditating. God, I hate sanctimonious people telling you to meditate—people like me. It sounds so holier-than-thou, blah, blah, blah. But the truth is, this advice is given over and over again because it really does work. Sigh. I hate/love it. And also: I do consider a journaling session when the words are practically being channeled as a meditation. Same with a peaceful, quiet stitching session, where I’m laying in stitches, one after another. So too with walking—but not if you’re listening to music or a book.

—Regulate your nervous system. This is a très chic topic at the moment but again, with good reason. If ever you’ve been shamed or embarrassed in your lifetime (and who among us hasn’t) your nervous system may act up at the first sign of publishing something self-relevatory. It’s simply protecting you from being forced out of the cave, even though you don’t need that particular brand of protection anymore. Ways to temper it: meditation (you knew that was coming), or even just deep breathing, cold exposure, humming, singing laughing. At the last workshop I taught, we had a certified laughter instructor among our students. She did a mini-session with us, and it was, well, hilarious.

Second the life lesson: or at least a life observation. I think we are all longing for some vitamin grandma. We need grandma energy—unconditional love, total acceptance of who we are, joy in the minutia of our day to day—in our lives something fierce. It’s a respite from the insanity of the world we live in. (Brief aside: I remember saying that the world was insane a few years ago, pre-pandemic. Oh boy, how innocent I was back then.) Witness the popularity of the Grandmillenial look (chintz needlepoint, traditional prints), the coastal grandma look (relaxed, casual, gracious style, this blog post explains it all) and Cottagecore ( rural settings, European and vintage style, the simple life). It’s all harking back to a lighter, easier time.

I never had much in the way of grandmother energy in my life. I never knew my paternal grandmother (who I look just like) and my maternal grandmother died when I was three. Sadly I have no memory of her. Because of that I pour buckets of love and energy into my grandchildren. All five of them know I’m a sucker for whatever they want—two adult size scoops of ice cream instead of one kid-size scoop, buying them something, anything at the store, dropping whatever I’m doing to watch some random video with them. (I get to do this all the time because I live in a multi-generational home, in an addition behind the house my daughter, her husband, and her three boys live in. My son and his two kids live less than five minutes away.)

Grandma energyPhoto by Andreea Popa on Unsplash

So I don’t get grandma energy, I give it. And that’s pretty damn great. I’m the grandmother I never had. And you can be that for yourself, too! It’s about joy in the little moments, dare I say it—mindfulness and gratitude. It’s about choosing the positive over the negative, love over hate, silence over gossip, looking for the bright side of things. In other words, emulating Pollyanna. With a wicked sense of humor and a penchant for a fine glass of red, which all the best grandmas have.

I also maintain that the best grandmas—no, the best people—have a consistent, rewarding creative practice. In my life it is writing. In yours it might be gardening or painting. Whatever it is, do it. You’re setting a grandparenting example whether you’re grandparenting small children or yourself.

Okay that’s it, that’s all I’ve got for now and this post has gone on way longer than I planned anyway. Welcome to my new subscribers! Know that I’m loving Substack and still figuring it out as I go along. On the horizon for paid subscribers are classes that you can take right here on these pages and also chats, Q and As and so on. And by and so on I mean I don’t know but I’ve got lots of cool ideas.

Have a great week. In the words of Diane Shiffer, I love you, my darlings.