Kern Carter's Blog, page 47
April 6, 2022
Write Like You’re Putting On A Show
When I sit down to write every morning — be it pages of my novel or short pieces like this one — I’m thinking of how it will be received. I’m punctuating my sentences to create a certain rhythm or structuring my story arc to build the tension necessary to keep readers intrigued. I know people will read my work and so I’m intentionally trying to put on a show.
I’m a performer. And like every great performer, I’m creating to please an audience. In no way does that mean I’m not writing stories that speak to my heart. It’s actually quite the opposite. The more excited I am when writing a story, the closer it is to my soul, those are the pieces that usually attract the most attention.
In fact, some of my more popular pieces are LOSER, in which I describe a moment between my daughter and me when she was five, or My Failures As a Father where I go even deeper into my insecurities about how she was raised. My first book was a novella that fictionalized my entire life. That book sold thousands of copies.
When I’m creating these pieces, I’m no different from a choreographer orchestrating a ballet or a musician recording a song they know will be streamed or performed on stage. I’m writing for public consumption. John Grisham doubled down on this. When I recently sat in on a talk with him and John Irving, he referred to himself as an entertainer and his writing as entertainment.
I know this isn’t the case for all writers. Someone posted this article in one of my Facebook groups. It’s an article titled How to Be a Writer and Still Get Really, Really Rich.
It’s an interesting read, but the comments in the group were even more eye-opening. Some writers called her entitled or spoiled. Others admired her success but admitted that their goal wasn’t to make a bunch of money from their writing. A few said they couldn’t even relate.
I was confused by the criticism. This author, Jessica Knoll, had a purpose for her writing. She stated from the beginning that she expected to have success.
“I wasn’t hoping to continue to work in magazines and also publish books on the side. I wanted this to be my full-time job. I didn’t want to be living a starving artist life, either. It sounds vague, but I wanted something big.”
And she got something big. Reese Witherspoon signed on to produce the movie rights to her first book, and TV rights for her second novel were picked up by the producers of Big Little Lies. In order for any of this to happen, the author knew she had to perform. She wrote to entertain a crowd and now the masses are engaged by her words.
I’m writing to be heardMy thing is, if I’m taking the time to think of words to type on a screen, spending time and money to improve on my craft, either posting or publishing words that others are going to read, then you better believe I want it to be recognized and celebrated by as many people as possible. And when there are opportunities to monetize, I’ll take as much money as they want to give me because I’ve worked for it.
A performance demands a crowd. It requires spectators to revel in its brilliance or failure to deeply engage their emotions. Make no mistake about it, the moment you hit publish, you’re part of the show. People will be reading, which means they’ll be judging, which means you better be confident in the work that you’re putting on display.
Maybe it’s fear?I think when writers play down their need to be read, it’s like a defense mechanism against rejection. It’s basically saying “I don’t care if people read my work because that’s not why I write.” And maybe some writers do truly feel this way, but my gut tells me that the large majority of us do care. We want to be heard. We want to be appreciated. We want to be well compensated. We shouldn’t be afraid to articulate that.
Because isn’t the point of writing to share our stories? And through these stories, we initiate emotional connections with our readers who are somehow moved by the words we’ve written. Even if we remove any monetary compensation, writing is art. And art doesn’t become art until it is consumed by someone other than its creator.
Writers are performers, and in the best kind of way, because it’s not us on stage. It’s the words we create that get the glory. It’s the worlds created by those words on full display for everyone to see. What could be more special…
[image error]Write Like You’re Putting On A Show was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
Dear Diary,
Dear Diary,
I don’t know what this is yet. This diary — it could be all over the place and make no sense in its entirety, or it could come to be a paragon of plight; I have no idea. But I sat down today, Sunday, March 1, 2022, at 3:25 PM because something inside me compels me to write. It could be the monster behind my minds bloody closet door or the puppeteer who pulls on my heartstrings, it could be the Yeti who snores so loud I can hear him from his ice castles way down at my feet, or the grumpy old man who lives in my ear, poking and prodding at my brain with his cane while I sleep. What it truly is, I do not know; regardless, I’m here.
Right now, I sit in bed with my laptop surrounded by the same four azure walls that’ve shrouded me in its blues for the past twenty-two months, reminiscing on the time I’ve spent in my little square room. I’ve written whimsical and fanciful tales of a folly knight and his spectacular mustache, I’ve poured my heart onto pages of poetry and song, I’ve reflected on the worst moments of my life, I’ve sat alone at night consumed by the thought of all that might come knocking on my front door — and yes, I’ve even thought of you.
I’ve survived the hardships of social alienation, helped men and women who lay upon their bathroom floors with a knife on the verge of ending it all, I’ve fought valiantly and vigorously against the demons that plague my mind every night, and yet, those who happen to notice my existence, look at me, and know nothing of my triumph, struggle, or accomplishments…
But this is the way.
I am a soldier. I desire no pity party or rounding applause, but I will cherish all those who walk beside me as my equal in the face of God.
And though I sit here reflecting on the past, I know it was only this morning I achieved my greatest accomplishment yet. After twenty-two months, I finally triumphed over the most daunting of my many labours — I finally found the secret to looking in the mirror: self-acceptance. Everyone has fears and doubts, strife and flaws; what counts is our choice to acknowledge them and grow or neglect them and suffer.
No longer am I blind. My eyes are sapphire doors, a gateway into a troubled soul, and with time and plight, my doors have been scratched — my irises splintered. But no longer shall I hide behind my pretty eyes. Now that I have genuinely looked within myself, I am ready to take all those brave enough to journey with me on a dive into my beautiful yet unforgiving mind.
But be warned: those who dive deep will not see the light of the sun, so if you’re afraid of the dark, turn back now.
The First
I locked my eyes with sapphire doors
So none can see into my soul —
For none should trek a place so cold,
A place inside I hide alone.
But thanks to you dear diary,
Thanks to you — no more.
Dear Diary, was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
April 5, 2022
What Scares me About Writing
Photo by Yannick Pulver on UnsplashThis is a response to Kern Carter’s writing prompt: What Scares You About Writing?
Writing is a spiritual practice for me. One of the times when I can really feel free-er and process things or ideas that weigh on me or play with me.
It gives me the ability to work through my feelings and thoughts in such a way that I can make sense of things past and present, and dream about the future.
Sometimes the purpose of my writing is to inspire, at times it's to inform, share, and reveal, but always to connect.
What I FearConnecting is the ultimate goal, which I suppose explains why sharing my writing can be a bit nerve-wracking, at times. I fear being seen as a horrible writer who doesn’t really have anything of value to offer. I fear that I am possibly embarrassing myself, revealing too much of who I am.
Being publicly vulnerable is terrifying.
Being vulnerable through my writing can sometimes feel like I’m standing in front of everyone naked and uncovered, knowing some will look upon me and love what they see and want more, while others will glance in my direction, find me lacking in appeal, and decide to move on.
Yet, I choose to be naked anyway. And, don’t we all? Everyone isn’t for everybody — we know this, so that’s not really the issue. The issue is finding a sense of belonging among your tribe — your people. You don’t really expect everyone to be in love, but you hope that some people will fall madly, deeply — and value you for you.
We all want to be bare, unmasked, and still accepted — well, at least, I do.
This year, I have really been making a real attempt to find my voice and be heard, and to be more accepting of all of me — that means getting more comfortable with being vulnerable, whether that be with my husband, my writing, people in my life, or within myself. And also realizing that I’m fine as is.
What I was previously not willing to speak aboutThere are a lot of topics I previously was unwilling to speak about. Actually, when I first wrote something on Medium, I wrote a piece about cozy mysteries. I did like, and still like, cozy mysteries, but I chose to go that route because it wasn’t revealing. It would be a way to speak on something without really speaking from my heart. But I found that trying to do a whole blog on cozies wasn’t something I was invested in doing. When I came back a couple of months ago, I came determined to be real, honest, and open. And I love my journey now.
Some of my most vulnerable pieces are my poems, which all have so much of myself poured into them.
For instance, My Secret Garden, which was recently published, is a deeply written poem with sensuality infused throughout. It is essentially about intimacy and connection. After it was published, I instantly felt like — whoa, now we naked, naked!
There's also I Did — which is probably one of the rawest poems I ever wrote about phases I've lived, the people I’ve been.
Or The Ugliest Words, where I shared my extreme hurt when the father of my middle child nearly broke me with his words. With this poem, I was saddened by the number of women who could relate- that is truly heartbreaking.
Then there’s my about me article, About Me-Rachel Gause, which literally gave me heart palpitations when I feared I had overshared. Truly, I thought for a while to delete anything that wasn’t positive in that article. The idea of possible judgment due to my admittance of past substance abuse and of mental health issues was paralyzing.
Sharing these things sometimes made, even makes, my heart race. It's scary to think that something may be used against me, misunderstood, or seen as garbage.
But that fear doesn’t stop me. Does it make me overthink? Yes. Does it sometimes make me a bit queasy? Yes… but it doesn’t, any longer, stop me.
[image error]What Scares me About Writing was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
Call For Submissions — What Song Makes You Cry?
The first time I cried to a song, I was on my way to Rochester, New York. It was Thanksgiving break and my friend leant me his car. It was my third year in university and the campus was pretty much empty, so I decided to go visit one of my friends for the weekend.
Alicia Keys latest album was out. It was called As I Am and to this day, it’s one of my favourite albums and definitely my favourite album from her. About halfway through the trip, I popped in the CD and let the album play out.
The third or fourth song on the album is “Like You’ll Never See Me Again.” I don’t know if it’s the piano at the beginning, the lyrics or Alicia’s voice, but seconds into the track, tears started building. It was this unexplained, unexpected rush of emotions and the tears streamed down my face for the entire song. I still don’t trust listening to this song unless I’m by myself.
For this writing prompt, tell us about a song that brought you joy or brought you to tears. What were the circumstances? Can you still listen to that song today without feeling some kinda way?
Same rules as always:You can submit to this or ANY of our past writing prompts. Just scroll through our previous newsletters. They’ll be marked “Call for Submissions.”If you’re already a writer for CRY, go ahead and submit.Be as creative as you want in your submissions. As long as you stick to the topic, we’ll consider it.Just because you submit doesn’t mean we’ll post. If you haven’t heard back from us in three days, consider that a pass.[image error]Call For Submissions — What Song Makes You Cry? was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
April 4, 2022
Interview with Stacey B
I’d like to be remembered as a creative who stood for integrity and originality. Also, as somebody who wasn’t shy to speak to any aged…
A few thoughts on Italy outside the World Cup
Excluded for the second consecutive time, the Azzurri lost the decisive match last night, a few months after the victory of Euro 2020
April 1, 2022
Call For Submissions — Your Name Has Meaning
Names are such a strange thing. I was born in Trinidad, where the name Kern is fairly normal. When I moved to Canada, I’ve only met one other person with my name and I’ve been living here since I was five years old.
My last name is Carter, taken from my dad, though my mom and him never married. My maternal grandmother despises my last name. I should be a Douglas she says. It’s a history of tension and dislike between her and my father that fuels her disdain for the Carter name.
That’s a brief summary of my name. For this writing prompt, tell us the meaning, history or importance of your name.
Same rules as always:You can submit to this or ANY of our past writing prompts. Just scroll through our previous newsletters. They’ll be marked “Call for Submissions.”If you’re already a writer for CRY, go ahead and submit.Be as creative as you want in your submissions. As long as you stick to the topic, we’ll consider it.Just because you submit doesn’t mean we’ll post. If you haven’t heard back from us in three days, consider that a pass.[image error]was originally published in CRY Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.
