Finding Your Way Out of the Maze (A Love Letter)
A few thoughts on being stuck in the story you tell about your writing
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Hi lovies,
I have a friend.1 They are younger than me (everyone is these days), live in a different place, and are a writer. And they have a story. Oh what a story they have! It is a story about why and how they are stuck where they are—unpublished, broke, unhappy. It’s never their fault. It’s the fault of the partner who left them, the family who disliked them, the dog that pees on their feet every time they step outside. Oh, and the publishing world which has spurned them, academia which has rejected them, the current state of the media which means there are no journalism jobs anymore. Of course, they wouldn’t get hired even if there were jobs because nobody gives the little guy a chance these days.
The thing about this story is that it’s persistent. And consistent, too. They tell it over and over and over again, in great, lurid detail. On social media. In blog posts, over texts and emails. On phone calls, in meetings. I can only imagine, but it must be a constant loop running in their head.
This person is stuck in the Maze. This is a concept I read about this week in Pulling the Thread, Elise Loehnen’s newsletter, but it resonated with me immediately. Because of the nature of what we writers do, essentially putting our hearts and souls on the line everytime we sit down to write, it’s easy to get stuck in a maze. It could be a maze of self-doubt, misbeliefs (just like our characters), doomsaying, ruminating over the unfairness of the world toward writers, you name it—choose your own maze adventure. Most of us already have.
The Maze is a concept that will be thoroughly discussed in an upcoming book Loehnen helped to write, True and False Magic, by Phil Stutz. (Link is for pre-order, but it will be out in a week or so.) Here’s a quote that, um, just might, resonate?
“We enter the Maze when our feelings are hurt, or when we feel we’ve been mistreated, and we can’t let go of the situation. As a result, there’s no forward motion. We obsess and ruminate: We want to get even, get paid, get an apology.”
Uh-huh, writers, can I get an amen?
We tell our negative stories over and over and over again. Sometimes this happens as overtly as in the case of the friend I mentioned above. But sometimes it is a lot more insidious. We don’t broadcast it, but we tell it to ourselves. That’s just as dangerous, maybe more so. Because after awhile, it becomes our default. It’s the elevator music that always runs in the background, slightly elusive. We can’t quite hear it but we don’t really need to because we know it by heart.
Being stuck in the maze is deadly, because the longer you stay in there, the harder it is to find your way out. And pretty soon that story is entrenched and then it is your best friend, the one you wrap around yourself like moth-eaten tattered blanket. It’s gross but it still gives a bit of warmth so you clutch it ever more tightly to yourself.
But to make progress in the world, in, say, your writing, you’ve got to find a way out of the maze. Here’s the catch—it’s pretty much up to you to do this. Others can help, sure. A friend can point it out to you (though you will probably not be happy to hear it). A therapist or coach can give you pointers to ease your path. But only you can actually do the work to shake yourself out of the maze.
It’s not that hard, though. Seriously.
The first trick, as with so many things, is awareness—catching yourself telling your story. The second trick is to quit telling the story when you catch yourself. And the third trick is to write a new story for yourself.
Which is the easy part, because you’re a writer, right?
Love, light, and good writing,
Charlotte
P.S. Drop a comment and let me know how you’re doing.
Free Class on Writing Dynamic Scenes!
First class is tomorrow—sign up soon!
My business partner Debbie Guyol and I are offering a two-part zoom class on writing scenes. Here’s the scoop.
Mondays at 5 PM Pacific, March 17th and 24th
We are excited to present this two-part class to give you an opportunity to see how our workshops work. BUT this is not a sales pitch. We will be presenting helpful information on writing scenes.
--Review elements of scene
--Discuss what a scene should do
--Talk about what a scene should not do
--A brief discussion of the concept of the sequel
At the end of the first workshop, we’ll give you an assignment to write a scene that you will send to us and the members of the class. During the second session, we’ll review and discuss your scenes, workshop style. Don’t worry, we’ll be gentle.
To register and receive the zoom link, please email Charlotte at chardixon@comcast.net with SCENE CLASS in the subject line. (Or you can reply to this newsletter.) Please do join us!
Articles and Resources
There are some great happiness boosters in this post.
We talked about this in the Artist’s Way this week and I found out about it in this post from Oliver Burkeman.
7 Ways to Be Consistent. Good advice here for, oh I don’t know, developing a consistent writing practice? https://www.sahilbloom.com/newsletter/how-to-be-consistent-7-strategies-that-actually-work
Books
The Courting of Bristol Keats, by Mary E. Pearson. This is one I hope to read or at least start this weekend. As Bristol and her siblings struggle to support themselves, they receive word that an aunt wants to help. This leads Bristol to face a world of gods and fae and monsters. Fingers crossed this is a fantasy I’ll like. Update: I love her world building and cited a paragraph of hers as an example in my post on writing setting.
Workshops in England and France
Life is crazy here (and everywhere in response). So why not shuck it all and go to England (think swans and the gorgeous garden in which they live and an ancient cathedral with sort of magical Evensongs and a high street bursting with people of all ages and dogs and pubs with fish and chips and mushy peas) to write for a week? I think it’s an excellent idea and I’ll be there to hang out with you. Tons of info, including dates and cost is here. England is easy because they speak the language. Ish.
But there’s also France coming up! We may not speak their language but as long as you give it a whirl (Bon jour is easy to say) you’ll be fine. Find out more on our France page. And seriously, give it a thought. We’d love to have you accompany us for either workshop.
And if you want a taste of the adventure that awaits with our overseas workshops, you can read my posts about this year here, and here, here, here, and here.
Other places to connect with me:
My website (badly in need of an upgrade)
Our workshop website
My original blog (now for archive purposes only, no longer updated, but damn there are a lot of articles on it)
Thanks for reading! I love you all.
Details have been changed to protect the innocent. They wouldn’t recognize themselves anyway.
This so resonates. Eons ago, when I first decided I wanted to explore therapy (spoiler: it's a healthy person's response ...) I interviewed a therapist who led a group. She described the group and the work in terms of being victims. Blerg. I had been a victim, and my intent now was to get out of that space (e.g. MAZE). Best decision I ever made. It can be scary to leave one's story behind. But oh, the blessed freedom to live your way into new and more authentic narratives. It reminds me of this Rilke quote, one of my favorites:
“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.” Rainer Maria Rilke
All very true. There’s so much static, but our voice on the page or in what we make is our way through!