Robin Layne's Blog: From the Red, Read Robin - Posts Tagged "writer"

I’m not sure there was one moment in my life when I realized I would be a writer. I think it was close to a destiny I always knew. Stories were important to me from the beginning. I loved the picture books my mother read to me. In kindergarten, our class made a book of pictures by each pupil; accompanying the drawings were short piece of writing we had dictated to the teacher. I acted out fairytales for family members and friends, like “The Three Bears” and “Cinderella.”

In first and second grade, we wrote stories and illustrated them on big-ruled sheets of paper. Our teachers gave us really creative prompts, and I think I got into more detail than the other kids, careful to include a logical beginning. In second grade I stayed in recesses to make my first picture book.

I was teased a lot by my schoolmates, and it cut me deeply. My family was unsympathetic to my complaints about it. I told myself that when I grew up I would be a famous artist and writer. Then those who had hated me would read about me in the newspapers and be sorry. I would show them I was better than a misfit crybaby, and better than all of them.

In third grade, I used to go visit my second grade teacher. I told her I was going to be an author. She pinched my cheeks and said, “Write children’s books.”

Sorry, Mrs. Palermo. My interests are broader, and I don’t pander to your expectations. I write what inspiration leads me to, not what one set age group dictates.

When I was still a child, it would take me hours to get to sleep, so I would make up novels in my head. Now I find that I can’t carry whole scenes in my memory for long without writing them down.

Although I still do a little art for my own pleasure, most of my art is to help me picture the characters in my stories or to design possible covers for the books. The “famous artist” part of my ambition has pretty much fallen by the wayside, leaving me more time to write. I’m driven to imagine, get it into words, and share it with others. Fame is slow to come by and not a need anymore. I’m famous to God. But I would like to produce published books. And I want to make a living on my writing!

I get the impression that most people think writing like mine is play and that I should spend my time doing more “important” things. Writing is enjoyable for me, but it also requires a lot of time and effort. Most of the markets out there pay nothing, and another large percentage pay a only a handful of dollars, I suppose for the purpose of saying you’re “paid.” Some writers make their living writing articles, but the really creative stuff doesn’t provide a living except to the rare superstar author. What are our values?

I write because I love stories. I write because the Lord I love is the Word. God made me in His image. And He is the Creator. So I am a creator, too.

(Sorry if a bit of this is the same as my author information. I wrote this entry to a Writer's Digest website prompt while in my writers' salon group. The information was all new to my friends there.)

I have been asked to say something about “when I grow up.” It would seem an odd question for someone about to turn 60, but considering I still don’t fill the shoes I envisioned as a child—and still want to—it’s valid today. I’m frustrated that I’m still not a published novelist, especially when I think how much of my childhood was filled with making up long stories I thought back then that I would write. Portions of those books filled my head especially during the hours I tried to fall asleep at night, those “he said”s and “she said”s I no longer recall. I know what some of the themes and even titles of those would-be books were, but they were replaced over time by other book ideas that interested me more.

In a sense I am what I wanted to be, a writer, but to some I will not be considered an author until I publish a novel. I have published some articles and short stories and a surprising number of poems. I am always working on a novel of some sort--have been since my junior high days--but I haven’t completed one to the point I would send it in to a publisher.

I was having a conversation with God about this subject today. He said, “Are you going to write this week about what you want to do, or who you want to be?

That was a profound question. I saw them as two very separate things. A thing I really want to do, write and publish novels, isn’t nearly as important as who I want to be. When I get too sidetracked with activities, I remind myself I’m a human being, not a human doing. Another thing I heard a long time ago from that still small voice is “people are more important than books.” That conviction is one reason I spend a lot of time keeping up my social life and reaching out to people whenever I see a need. I love people because I love God and God loves people and gives me a love for them. The time I spend with people may take time away from my writing, but if people are more important than books, I have no reason to be ashamed that I haven’t had a book finished and published yet.

So exactly what or who do I want to be when I grow up? It’s not an occupation I strive toward, but an identity and a quality. I want to be so filled with the Spirit of God and so surrendered to His will that I’m as much like Jesus as I can become in this lifetime. If I die without publishing a novel, I and some others will be disappointed, but if I die and don’t hear the words from my Lord that I want to hear, I’ll know I’ve disappointed the most important Being in the universe, and, so doing, many in the universe that I could have touched in a positive way. The words I want to hear when I pass on to Heaven are, “Well done, My good and faithful servant!” I want to please the Lord because I love Him, because He’s worthy to be loved and pleased, and because what pleases Him is all that is right and loving. That’s what I really live for! Too many times I miss making this life purpose my first priority and don't look at myself through its lens. The world pressures me to answer the question, “What do you do?” and when they ask it, they mean, “How do you make a living?” (which isn’t even writing) or “What do you spend the most time doing?” or “What do you consider your career?” How many people want to know who I want to be like or who I want to please? I get too shy of admitting what is really most important to me. Although I love writing, it’s not so much an end as a means. I am indeed driven to write, but to write what? Truth and love are the messages I hope to communicate most. People who don’t like fiction don’t understand how fiction can communicate truth or inspire love. But people who love fiction understand. And they, I hope, can come away changed for the better after reading something I’ve written. What I write flows from who I am. That’s as true in a simple text to a friend as it is in the series of novels I hope to complete. Who I am is a lover of God and people, a follower of Jesus Christ. When I grow up, I want to be more deeply in love with Him than ever—and show it!