Mette Ivie Harrison's Blog, page 29

Failure

Talking to my oldest brother over the weekend due to a family wedding, I discovered that he regularly refers to me as “the sister he hates.” He says this in a joking, kind way because he hates me for all the best reasons. He lists them as:

1. Got a PhD from Princeton University at age 24.

2. Has published 7 books with national publishers (and has contracts for more).

3. Is a nationally ranked triathlete who beat me by 30 minutes at the only race we’ve run together, despite the fact that she had a stress fracture in her right foot.

4. Has 5 awesome children, the oldest of whom are enrolled at MIT and Berklee School of Music.

These are all true. Strangely, I do not think of my own life this way. Rather, I think often of these facts:

1. Spent 6 years getting a PhD, then got not a single interview from the 60 jobs I applied to the year I graduated.

2. Got fired from the adjunct position at the university where I had done my undergraduate work.

3. Wrote 20 novels so badly that I will never publish them before I got a contract from a very small publisher for a book that never earned out and is now out of print.

4. Had my first big contract cancelled by a major publisher after a long, depressive episode in my life.

5. Struggled so much with one of my children that I called a helpline, genuinely afraid that I would hurt her physically. (I got therapy and so did she and we all survived and are good now).

6. Was a terrible athlete in high school, and am only now (at age 43, when it is too late) figuring out how to excel at it.

7. I have made less money writing over the last 10 years than I would have made if I had spent all those hours working minimum wage at a fast food place.

It’s really true that you can look at your life as a series of failures or a series of successes. The same life, the same facts, just turned different ways. I think that it’s also true that failing is just a way of saying giving yourself another chance for success. You can’t have success if you give up and don’t try anymore. I keep trying. If there is any formula for success, that is it. Luck is just the persistent belief that around the corner lies the next big break. And by believing it and working for it, we often make it come true.

Depression and Medication

Sometimes people who are not depressed look at those who are and think that they can diagnose all the problems with the depressed person's life. Look, if that person got a better job, started marriage counseling, and started exercising, all their problems would be solved. Yeah, well, that's not how it works.

A depressed person tends to have a problem snowball, and only when things get really bad does it seem obvious that some massive intervention is needed, like medication. Some people take medication for a few months and they are able to get a handle on their problems and then stop taking medication. In my experience, these people are the minority. Many, many depressed people need to take medication for the rest of their lives. There is nothing wrong with this. It does NOT make them weak.

However, it isn't a cure-all, either. That is to say, taking medication does not magically solve all your other problems. So for those of you looking in, it's not like it's unfair and depression medication would help everyone if they were allowed to take it. It wouldn't. And even if it did, it wouldn't matter because it doesn't work that way. Depression medication just makes it possible for you to have enough energy to see the problems around you and figure out a way to deal with them.

If you are on depression medication, please PLEASE do not stop taking it without consulting with a medical professional and also the other people in your life. You may not realize how important that medication is to maintaining normal relationships with other people. I am not saying that you should take medication just to get along with other people. But truly, if you have a mental illness, the part of you that makes good judgments is impaired. So you may not be able to recognize what is going on without some help. Just a heads up.

If you are around someone on medication and they go off it, be gentle in your suggestions that they might reconsider. It can feel hurtful to be told that you are impossible to live with without medication. On the other hand, don't be passive about it. You deserve to have as close to a normal life as you can. And remember to continue to give the message that the medication isn't changing the person that you love. It's just helping them be more themselves. It is actually helping their brain to work more normally and to deal with things that need to be dealt with.

When People in Your Life are Stopping You From Writing

When I hear people complain about other people in their lives, I almost always think that the problem is with the person complaining. Not that I think that misbehavior of an abuser is the victim’s fault. But continuing to accept misbehavior is partly the victim’s fault (and partly the society that teaches the victim to accept misbehavior). One of the most important steps for an abuse victim is the realization that this misbehavior should not be tolerated. And to get help. Which means that when you are abused, you leave the situation.

If you as a writer find that the people around you aren’t accepting that you have set aside time to write, this is often your fault. Because you are not setting up firm enough boundaries about your writing time. You let yourself be talked out of writing to go do something more fun and easier. And then the next time, the person who tries to talk you out of writing is already set up to expect that all he has to do is convince you that the non-writing event is going to be really fun.

The more that you let yourself be talked out of doing something that isn’t your writing, the more the people around you are going to keep doing this. In fact, I suspect that they would be very confused to realize that you are resentful. They feel like they are doing you a favor, giving you an excuse to do something fun instead of the dreadful chore of writing. They think writing must be a dreadful chore because it would be to them. And also, when you talk about writing, you complain about it a lot. As if you hate doing it. So why are you surprised when the people around you don’t want you to do it, either?

Valuable Mistakes

It occurred to me as I was reading a book on writing this weekend that the mistakes were far more valuable to me than explanations of why things worked without any mistakes shown. So I wondered if it would be useful for me to talk about some mistakes I’ve made on the way to producing finished novels.

1. Mira, Mirror was originally about a mirror who learned from the evil witch in the Snow White fairy tale how to be a terrible human. Why this was a mistake? No one wants to read a story about a character who has nothing human to make her sympathetic. I think this applies to a lot of sff writing.

2. The Monster In Me originally began on about the last page of the published book. Why was this a mistake? The character had already done all the changing that the book needed to be about. So the book just wasn’t very interesting and the scenes had no narrative power to transform the reader. Which is what a novel is all about.

3. The Princess and the Hound was originally a story about a prince who was trying to figure out the secret about the princess who always had a hound with her. Why was this a mistake? The prince was rather like a pale version of Dr. Watson. He was telling the story, but he had little story of his own, except a desire to get the girl. It was only later that I added in the story of Prince George’s own magic and his struggle to conceal it, and then finding the courage to reveal it.

4. The Princess and the Bear was originally a retelling of Ladyhawke, the movie. Chala and Richon were human at opposite times of day, and never either human or animal together. Why was this a mistake? It was basically impossible to have any meaningful dialog or much interaction between them (this wasn’t a movie, after all, and the visuals were all with words).

5. The Rose Throne originally took place over the course of about 7 years, beginning when the two princesses were only eleven years old. Why was this a mistake? A YA reader generally likes to read about YA. I’m sure you’ve heard that. But in addition, this long span of action really cut down the tension. I ended up lopping off the first six years of the book (about 100 pages) and just making myself write a new intro to the characters and the situation.

Learn from this what you will. I suspect that my mistakes are not particularly original, though I hope that eventually my solutions to them are.

You are in your own race. Make your own rules.

When I was at a race recently, I passed a guy on the run who was doing well, but just wasn’t going at the pace I was going. He cheered me on and said, “You started later than I did, so you’re even farther ahead of me than you seem.” I called out to him, “We are all in our own race.” The longer I am a writer, the more I believe this is true. You can’t compare yourself to other writers or to other people in any aspect of life. When I race, I don’t compete against the other people in the race. I compete against myself, and that’s the only real satisfaction I get from racing. If I take a few seconds off my best time, I am a winner, no matter how many people beat me. And if I didn’t, then I feel frustrated, even if I came in first place.

If people around you are actively pointing out your flaws and chortling over them, or are sneering at you for your failures, well—I would say you need to avoid these people as much as you possibly can. If you can’t manage that, then try making a list of mental illnesses that they need to be medicated for. They are sick, sick people. Feel sorry for them rather than feeling angry at them, because anger takes up too much energy. But whatever you do, don’t let them set your agenda for success in life.

Books I read in 2013--the Complete List

The Troubled Man by Mankell Henning

Pyramid by Mankell Henning

The Rose Garden by Susannah Kearsley

A Kiss for Midwinter by Courtney Milan

The Duchess War by Courtney Milan

The Governness Affair by Courtney Milan

Unclaimed by Courtney Milan

Unbroken by Courtney Milan

Unraveled by Courtney Milan

Unlocked by Courtney Milan

Unveiled by Courtney Milan

Before the Frost by Henning Mankell

Life of Pi by Yann Martel

Seraphina by Rachel Hartman

Claws by Rachel and Mike Grinti

Summerset Abbey by T.J. Brown

Page by Paige by Laura Lee Gulledge

Saga Volume 1 by Brian K. Vaughn

Ten Things We Did (And Probably Shouldn't Have) by Sarah Mlnyowski

Wolf at the Door by J. Damask

Blackwood by Gwenda Bond

Winter Sea by Susannah Kearsley

Ordinary Magic by Caitlen Rubino-Bradway

The Lucy Variations by Sara Zarr

Maybe This Time by Jennifer Crusie

A Natural History of Dragons by Marie Brennan

The Disappeared by Kristine Kathryn Rusch (audio)

Jennifer A. Nielsen's The Runaway King

Mrs. Drew Plays Her Hand by Carla Kelly

The Devil in Winter by Lisa Kleypas

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

Above World by Jenn Reese

What Darkness Brings by C.S. Harris

A Natural History of Dragons by Marie Brennan

Secrets of a Summer Night by Lisa Kleypas

Semper Fidelis by Ruth Downie

Maybe This Time by Jennifer Crusie

The Dovekeepers by Alice Hoffman

Faking It by Jennifer Crusie

It Happened One Autumn by Lisa Kleypas

A Scandalous Proposal by Ashlyn McNamara

Shadowy Horses by Susanna Kearsley

The Edge of Nowhere by Elizabeth George (part)

One Autumn Night by Lisa Kleypas

Dragon Bones by Patricia Briggs (audio)

Without a Summer by Mary Robinette Kowall

Every Secret Thing by Susannah Kearsley

Earth Unaware by Orson Scott Card and Aaron Johnston (audio)

Game by Barry Lyga

The Duke and I by Julia Quinn

Once Upon a Winter's Eve by Tess Dare

A Dance in Moonlight by Sherry Thomas

The Ice Princess by Elizabeth Hoyt

If I Stay by Gail Forman

The Summer Prince by Dawn Alaya Johnson

Tempting the Bride by Sherry Thomas

Once Upon a Winter's Eve by Tess Dare

A Dance in Moonlight by Sherry Thomas

The Ice Princess by Elizabeth Hoyt

It's In His Kiss by Julia Quinn

Midnight at Marble Arch by Anne Perry

On the Way to the Wedding by Julia Quinn

When He Was Wicked by Julia Quinn

To Sir Philip, With Love by Julia Quinn

Romancing Mr. Bridgerton by Julia Quinn

An Offer From a Gentleman by Julia Quinn

Veil of Lies by Jeri Westerson

We Are Completely Besides Ourselves by Karen Joy Fowler

The Raven Prince by Elizabeth Hoyt

Dark Jenny by Alex Bledsoe (audio)

Consequences by Kristine Kathryn Rusch (audio)
Extremes by Kristine Kathryn Rusch (audio)
Courting Miss Lancaster by Sarah Eden

Case File 13 Zombie Kid by J. Scott Savage

With a Name Like Love by Tess Hilmo

Paloma by Kristine Kathryn Rusch (audio)

Earth Unaware by Orson Scott Card and Andrew Johnston (audio)

The Glass Castle by Jeanette Walls

The Princess Problem by Diane Darcy

Proof by Seduction by Courtney Milan

The Lady Always Wins by Courtney Milan

What Happened at Midnight by Courtney Milan

Here Lies Arthur by Phillip Reese

My Loving Vigil Keeping Carla Kelly

Daughter Dancer Traitor Spy by Elizabeth Kiem

The Tooth Tattoo by Peter Lovesey

A Passage of Stars by Alice Rasmussen/Kate Elliott (partial)

September Girls by Bennett Madison

The Hour of the Rat by Lisa Brackmann

Death of a Nightingale by Lene Kaaberbol and Agnete Friis

The Ways of Evil Men by Leighton Gage

Dead Lions by Mick Herron

A Beautiful Truth by Colin McAdam

The Heiress Effect by Courtney Milan

The Last Runaway by Tracy Chevalier

Buried Deep by Kristine Kathryn Rusch (audio)

Recovery Man by Kristine Kathryn Rusch (audio)

Duplicate Effort by Kristine Kathryn Rusch (audio)

W for Wasted by Sue Grafton (audio)

Firebird by Susanna Kearsley

The Detour by Andromeda Romano-Lax

The Coldest Girl in Coldtown by Holly Black

Crazy For You by Jennifer Crusie

Living With Jackie Chan by Jo Knowles

Waking Dark by Robin Wasserman

The List by Siovan Vivian

The Cinderella Deal by Jennifer Crusie

Blowback by Kristine Kathryn Rusch (audio)

Earth Afire by OSC/Aaron Johnston (audio)

Book 2 by Kathy Reichs (audiobook)

Chimes at Midnight by Seanan Maguire (audiobook)

Anybody But You by Jennifer Crusie

Just One Evil Act by Elizabeth George

A Convenient Marriage by Georgette Heyer

Minx by Julia Quinn

The Kiss of a Stranger by Sarah M. Eden

Just like Heaven by Julia Quinn

A Night Like This by Julia Quinn

The Dissolute, Scandalous Mr. Wright by Tessa Dare

A Lady Awakened by Cecilia Grant

Cheating on Myself by Erin Downing

Deadly Decisions by Kathy Reichs (audio book)

Fatal Voyage by Kathy Reichs (audio book)

Murder Plain and Simple by Isabella Alan

Bellman and Black by Diane Setterfield

Killer of Enemies by Joseph Bruzac

Pumpkin Roll by Josi Kilpack

The Sum of All Kisses by Julia Quinn

My Sweet Folly by Laura Kinsale

A Blind Goddess by James Benn

Grave Secrets by Kathy Reichs (audio)

Bare Bones by Kathy Reichs (audio)

Saints and Boxers by Gene Yuen Lang

The Emperor's Soul by Brandon Sanderson

How to Suppress Women's Writing by Joanna Russ

The Countess Conspiracy by Courtney Milan

Untold by Sarah Rees Brennan

Bad Houses by Sara Ryan

The Smartest Kids in the World by Amanda Ripley

Belle Epoque by Elizabeth Ross

Birds of a Feather by Jacqueline Winspear

Thorns of a Serpent by Jeri Westerson

Jane Fairfax by Joan Aiken

When You Are The Problem

I hit a point in my depression when I had finished pointing out all of the things that were making me sad, all of the people besides me who had made my life miserable. And I decided that I was the problem, that if I wanted my life to be better, I was going to have to change. And that was the moment when I started to recover. I started going to a therapist. I started to try new things. I started to look at life differently.

I do not know that if someone had told me that I was the problem earlier, that it would have helped. I had to come to this myself. In fact, if other people had pointed a finger at me (and maybe some did), I would have simply felt that they were wrong, that they were the ones who were the problem. And I don’t think that I was doing something obviously, horribly wrong. I wasn’t abusing drugs. I was physically healthy, exercised daily, ate good food, and mostly managing my life. But I was still miserable and until I was ready to start changing, the change couldn’t happen. I had to have that tiny little bit of extra energy that is really hard to find in depression, to acknowledge the need to change, and to pick myself up and start making one small change.

A lot of the time, I hear people talk about how challenges in life made them better people. They got stronger, they learned something. I suppose that in some sense, I did learn something and I did get stronger. But mostly, I think that’s the wrong way to look at it. The way I was doing life before was the way it worked for me before. The way I had to do life after was the way that after-life demanded me to do it. I wasn’t better or worse either way. I was simply adapting to the conditions at hand. But a depressed person does find it hard to adapt because that takes effort and energy, which you lack in that state.

I don’t look back at myself before and think about how much better I am now. I look back at myself before and think I was doing what I needed to do then. I think if you look back at dinosaurs and think—Wo, those creatures are going to have a serious problem when the weather cools down. Well, yeah. They’re going to have to adapt. But dinosaurs weren’t a bad model per se. They were magnificent creatures, the best of their time. And then times changed. And they were the problems. And they had to adapt.

Women always write in the vernacular

"Not strictly true, and yet it explains a lot. It certainly explains letters and diaries. . . It explains why so many women wrote ghost stories in the nineteenth century and still write them. . .in the vernacular, it's hard to be “classic,” to be smooth. The Sacred Canon of Literature quite often pretends that some works can be not only atemporal and universal, but without flaw and without perceptible limitations. It's hard, in the vernacular, to pretend this, to paper over the cracks. It's also hard to read the vernacular as Holy Writ. Minority art, vernacular art, is marginal art. Only on the margins does growth occur.”

Joanna Russ, How to Suppress Women's Writing

Holiday Blues and Being Who You Are

I have had a few bad moments this holiday season, which is better than last year, and a LOT better than the years before that. I can go months without thinking about certain things, and in the holiday season, certain things will come flooding back for no good reason that I can tell.

I’ll remember the mortuary calling us to complain about the nurses who kept the baby’s body so long, for instance, that they were not sure how much repair they could do. I’ll remember that the color yellow for me will always signify death because that’s the color she was buried in. I’ll remember that she looked so much like my son Sam that sometimes I will look at him and see her dead eyes looking back at me.

But for the first time this year, I will also say that I have reached a point I was never sure I would achieve. I can’t say that I am glad that this happened to me. I’m not sure that I will ever say that. But I can say that I don’t feel angry anymore at how I have been changed against my will.

For so many years (more than 8 now), I did not like the person I had become with my grief and guilt and anger. I am sure this is part of the reason that it took me so long to get through it, because I was so busy telling myself that I wasn’t allowed to feel this way, that I should be kinder and gentler after a tragedy, that this should make me a better person.

Well, it didn’t make me a better person. It may make me a better person at some point. But mostly, I felt like I had become this broken thing, with unpredictable moods, who wasn’t in control of herself like she used to be. She couldn’t get things done. She couldn’t love people like she used to. She was prickly and unpleasant to be around. She found it excruciating to be around other people who had experienced a loss because it was just too much to bear. The idea that anyone else was suffering like she was suffering made the universe too horrible a place. So, no, she wasn’t good at helping other people who’d lost a baby. She was much worse at it than she would have been before.

The person I became couldn’t see very well what had mattered before or why it had mattered. She felt like she had been smashed flat with a giant rock hurled into the sky for no apparent reason, and which she had been chosen to be flattened by due to the random reality of our space-time continuum. Things didn’t taste the same as they used to. Things didn’t feel the same. Music didn’t sound the same. Feelings were all skewed, and the world was darkened.

And all around her, people would say, “you choose to have the reaction you have to any event.” As if someone who’d had an arm cut off had chosen to have that arm cut off.

Now, looking back, perhaps there is some small truth in the idea that we choose how we react to things. I can certainly see that others react to tragedies differently than I reacted to mine. How conscious that choice is, I don’t know. It didn’t feel like a choice to me. But maybe it was. Maybe I thought it was better to be devastated than to shrug and say, oh, well, she died, time to move on.

But I will say that if you think that you will hate yourself forever, that you can never get back to a version of yourself that you feel comfortable with, and maybe even a little bit proud of, maybe not. Maybe you will find a way to be who you were meant to be all along. Maybe you will be better than you thought you would be. I won’t press that on anyone because I don’t feel that at this point. I do feel like I am glad to be me again.

More From How To Suppress Women's Writing by Joanna Russ--3

“If a woman writer presents herself as a public, political voice, delete this aspect or her work and emphasize her love poems—Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

“If a woman writer is frank about heterosexuality, delete any of her work that depicts male inadequacy—Aphra Behn.

“If a woman write homosexual love poetry, suppress it and declare her an unhapy spinster--Amy Lowell.

If you still have trouble, invent an unhappy heterosexual affair for her to explain the poems—Emily Dickinson.

If the writer is openly feminist, delete everything of that sort in her work and declare her passionless, minor, and ladylike—Anne Finch.

If she writes about women's experiences, especially the unpleasant ones, declare her hysterical—Sylvia Plath.

If she carefully avoid writing about female experience, declare her minor and passionless—Marianne Moore.”