I have so much to say. I went back to read an old post of mine in which I quoted you, and I think I'll just drop your words back to you here: "Writers who are writing are among the most hopeful people." I heard you say that on a podcast somewhere. Write for whoever the heck you want to write, however and whenever and whyever. Lament and complaint and tales of mistakes are still hopeful words.
For what it's worth, I feel compelled to say that your writing journey has been deeply influential to my own writing journey. I wrote my first novel while following along with your "Video of a Novel" series last year. On the wake of that success, I finished my second novel this year. I am so deeply grateful for your contribution to my own artistic life, and although we've never met, my heart hurts for the year you and your family seem to be having and for how difficult the writing has been. I know a stranger's words don't carry much weight (as it should be), but I suppose I just want you to know how much I've appreciated your transparency and for the effort and energy you've put into the many things you're now quitting. If the goal with all of those ventures was to help writers thrive, you can be sure that you've accomplished it for at least one person. You've enriched my life with your journey. Best of luck as you keep pressing on!
Oh I loved this. About learning how to speak the truth but in a way that helps people keep going.
Madeleine L’Engle talks about this - how after her decade long rejection and nothing being published she just decided to write because she was a writer and for no other reason.
I often come back to this.
I hope you keep writing. I appreciate your honesty.
Love the honesty in this post. And this: “A story about fallible fathers and what happens when raising kids doesn’t go the way you thought it would and what to do with a faith that’s been buried and might be gone and then somehow pushes up through the parched ground, sort of weak and anemic but somehow alive...”. Cant wait to read it...
I am truly sorry for the loss and grief that's led you to this point. I'm no doctor but it sounds like your give-a-shit is broke. Not always, but sometimes this can be a gift...
I’ve been in the quitting season. Mine was almost a decade. Grief has a strange clouding and clarifying effect. I couldn’t see anything for so long, and then there was a path. But I don’t know if I would have seen that one if I had continued with the grind through my grief.
Untimely losses (and timely ones - “daddy” becomes “dad”, “mommy” becomes “mom”, and the household begins to shrink) change us all, and force us to grow in often painful ways. There are more gifts to come, I promise. Your faith is not gone, the presence is holding you and feeling your pain. Peace be with you🙏🏻
Really enjoyed this. I'm one of those young writers that you talked about - the one that has the totally unfounded drive to just do it, just write. (I'm also a lifelong pessimist, and am pretty sure that if my writing takes off it'll be after I'm dead, so no shaking required.) We're in very different places, but your words resonate. Life takes us in different directions and we just gotta go along with it. Just doesn't always mean what we first think that means.
Beautiful writing. “Write every day without hope or despair,” sayeth Isak Dinesen. I taught (and developed the curriculum for our arts magnet school) creative writing. I read, edited and nurtured so many promising young writers, bursting with ideas and enthusiasm. But it became harder and harder to encourage them to actually pursue writing as a profession, based on many reasons you lay out here. I recently rediscovered my own writing passion, starting my own Substack (Life Tumbles Forward), and for me, it is a venue, a place I go to for the love of writing. That’s it. Thanks for your eloquence. Keep writing. For you.
Love this so much. As I read, Wendell Berry came to mind:
“It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come to our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.”
And this one from Henri Nouwen:
"Speak from that place in your heart where you are most yourself. Speak directly, simply, lovingly, gently and without any apologies. Tell us what you hear and what you want us to hear...Trust your own heart. The words will come. There is nothing to fear." — Henri Nouwen
I’d say your writing has found a beautiful new path to follow. I look forward to seeing how it unfolds.
I found myself nodding in agreement to so much of this. “This, I wonder, might be the key to everything: knowing the truth, but knowing it in a way, seeing it in a way, that makes us want to keep going.” Yes. To know this and see this and keep offering it up so that others might have company on the road is a gift, Shawn. I’m grateful for what you bring.
Hear me out but this post reminded me of Episode VII of The Last Dance on Netflix about Michael Jordan and the Bulls. That episode chronicles the tragic loss of Jordan's father, his grief and what led him to playing baseball. It was so moving and brought me back to the thin spaces of grief I have experienced. I'm in that stripping down of all I thought "should" be and never thought a docuseries on Jordan would meet me exactly where I'm at, but there you have it.
Also, please continue writing. Your words have really meant a lot to me as of late.
I have so much to say. I went back to read an old post of mine in which I quoted you, and I think I'll just drop your words back to you here: "Writers who are writing are among the most hopeful people." I heard you say that on a podcast somewhere. Write for whoever the heck you want to write, however and whenever and whyever. Lament and complaint and tales of mistakes are still hopeful words.
Thanks, Tresta. I'm glad our writing journeys have been running along together for a bit.
For what it's worth, I feel compelled to say that your writing journey has been deeply influential to my own writing journey. I wrote my first novel while following along with your "Video of a Novel" series last year. On the wake of that success, I finished my second novel this year. I am so deeply grateful for your contribution to my own artistic life, and although we've never met, my heart hurts for the year you and your family seem to be having and for how difficult the writing has been. I know a stranger's words don't carry much weight (as it should be), but I suppose I just want you to know how much I've appreciated your transparency and for the effort and energy you've put into the many things you're now quitting. If the goal with all of those ventures was to help writers thrive, you can be sure that you've accomplished it for at least one person. You've enriched my life with your journey. Best of luck as you keep pressing on!
That's really encouraging. Thanks, Jason. And well done on the writing! So glad to hear you're continuing on!
Oh I loved this. About learning how to speak the truth but in a way that helps people keep going.
Madeleine L’Engle talks about this - how after her decade long rejection and nothing being published she just decided to write because she was a writer and for no other reason.
I often come back to this.
I hope you keep writing. I appreciate your honesty.
Love the honesty in this post. And this: “A story about fallible fathers and what happens when raising kids doesn’t go the way you thought it would and what to do with a faith that’s been buried and might be gone and then somehow pushes up through the parched ground, sort of weak and anemic but somehow alive...”. Cant wait to read it...
Thanks, Jereme.
I am truly sorry for the loss and grief that's led you to this point. I'm no doctor but it sounds like your give-a-shit is broke. Not always, but sometimes this can be a gift...
I'm glad you're my friend.
I think you're right, John. It's a painful injury at first, the broken give-a-shit, but man it starts to feel really good after a little while.
I’ve been in the quitting season. Mine was almost a decade. Grief has a strange clouding and clarifying effect. I couldn’t see anything for so long, and then there was a path. But I don’t know if I would have seen that one if I had continued with the grind through my grief.
I can relate with that, Alise. Grief really does try to help us move out of the grinding way of life.
Untimely losses (and timely ones - “daddy” becomes “dad”, “mommy” becomes “mom”, and the household begins to shrink) change us all, and force us to grow in often painful ways. There are more gifts to come, I promise. Your faith is not gone, the presence is holding you and feeling your pain. Peace be with you🙏🏻
This wisdom means a lot, coming from you, Margie. Thank you for your encouragement.
Really enjoyed this. I'm one of those young writers that you talked about - the one that has the totally unfounded drive to just do it, just write. (I'm also a lifelong pessimist, and am pretty sure that if my writing takes off it'll be after I'm dead, so no shaking required.) We're in very different places, but your words resonate. Life takes us in different directions and we just gotta go along with it. Just doesn't always mean what we first think that means.
Yep. As I let go of some of these other things, I feel myself getting more excited about what the future might hold.
Beautiful writing. “Write every day without hope or despair,” sayeth Isak Dinesen. I taught (and developed the curriculum for our arts magnet school) creative writing. I read, edited and nurtured so many promising young writers, bursting with ideas and enthusiasm. But it became harder and harder to encourage them to actually pursue writing as a profession, based on many reasons you lay out here. I recently rediscovered my own writing passion, starting my own Substack (Life Tumbles Forward), and for me, it is a venue, a place I go to for the love of writing. That’s it. Thanks for your eloquence. Keep writing. For you.
Thank you, Ann, for the encouragement.
This was such a beautiful post. Thank you.
Thanks, Kimi.
Love this so much. As I read, Wendell Berry came to mind:
“It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come to our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.”
And this one from Henri Nouwen:
"Speak from that place in your heart where you are most yourself. Speak directly, simply, lovingly, gently and without any apologies. Tell us what you hear and what you want us to hear...Trust your own heart. The words will come. There is nothing to fear." — Henri Nouwen
I’d say your writing has found a beautiful new path to follow. I look forward to seeing how it unfolds.
Thanks, Michael. I love that Wendell Berry.
I found myself nodding in agreement to so much of this. “This, I wonder, might be the key to everything: knowing the truth, but knowing it in a way, seeing it in a way, that makes us want to keep going.” Yes. To know this and see this and keep offering it up so that others might have company on the road is a gift, Shawn. I’m grateful for what you bring.
Beautiful, Shawn. Cheering you on. My favorite topic is existential-driven reinvention. I appreciate you.
Thanks, Jeff. I appreciate the encouragement!
Similar journeys, friend. (I think.) Take gpod care.
Hear me out but this post reminded me of Episode VII of The Last Dance on Netflix about Michael Jordan and the Bulls. That episode chronicles the tragic loss of Jordan's father, his grief and what led him to playing baseball. It was so moving and brought me back to the thin spaces of grief I have experienced. I'm in that stripping down of all I thought "should" be and never thought a docuseries on Jordan would meet me exactly where I'm at, but there you have it.
Also, please continue writing. Your words have really meant a lot to me as of late.
I love that comparison (and what a great series that was!). Thanks for your encouragement, Lauren...I really appreciate it.
Your honesty is inspiring and beautiful.
Thanks, Andrew.