The Genius Myth

Yesterday, I heard from an old friend. She told me that her daughter had dreams of being a writer, but felt discouraged. She isn’t even in high school yet, but doesn’t feel that being a professional writer is a realistic dream. I know this feeling well.

When I was in college, I applied to be in the creative writing thesis class. Only a few (10? 12?) English majors were allowed to write a “creative” thesis—that is, work on their own novel, book of poetry, or play, rather than writing about someone else’s work. I had been admitted to the poetry writing seminar in my junior year, which was another exclusive class for only a few students. My specialty was funny poetry. I had dreams of writing for kids. My thesis would be a first step in really honing my craft.

But I didn’t get into the creative thesis class.

For years, I thought that I didn’t get in because I wasn’t a good enough writer. If I wasn’t good enough to get into a class at Vassar, I reasoned, I wasn’t good enough to get published. So why bother pursuing it at all? I stopped writing poetry. For almost twenty years.

There is something strange in our attitude about art. We revere famous artists. We build museums to house their paintings, read and treasure their work in our schools, and visit their hallowed grave sites. We treat them like gods, and—correlatively—act as if no mere mortal should be allowed to pursue the same path. Either you are Shakespeare, or you are wasting everyone’s time. “Get a real job;” is something that people often say to aspiring artists, “be a dental hygienist! Healthcare is booming!”

The problem is that it is difficult to get better at something that you do not do. It’s not as if Shakespeare busted out with Macbeth at the age of eight.  He had to work as a writer to become brilliant. People give the example of Mozart’s young genius, but Mozart worked like a maniac even as a child. As Malcolm Gladwell has documented in his book, Outliers, a large part of the reason he was so “talented” is because he had put more time into his music by the age of 28 than most composers do in a lifetime.

Non-artists act as if art is a self-indulgent career for lazy people. I can tell you that the professional artists I know are relentless. They are always working. Art is the opposite of self-indulgence—it is public service. It is a calling. And, if you are called, you ignore that call to your peril.

Writing, music, dance, visual art—these are competitive fields. But they are also just jobs. Many people do these things professionally. People, not gods. Just people who love something that is good for the spirit, and want to share that love with the world. If you have a child who loves the arts, you can tell them to be a dental hygienist, and that might be good advice. There is a lot to be said for a steady income. It brings tremendous peace of mind and sense of accomplishment. But please encourage their art, too. Writing, dance, painting, drawing, playing music, singing, designing on a computer—these things also bring tremendous peace of mind and sense of accomplishment. As I’ve said before, I believe that we are all artists at heart.

As for me, I have finally started writing poetry again, and I love it. When I write poems, I feel a sense of mental absorption and rightness. I will never be Keats. But who cares? Success does not have to be huge and undisputed in order to be real. I’m not internationally famous, but I do have a real job and a real career, and I know from the letters that I receive that I am helping people, making them happy. If you want to write, please know that it is possible to have a career as an author. I’m doing it. Most of my good friends, are, too. And we’re just regular people. Work at it, and you will get better. You won’t be able to help it.

Here are links to a couple of books about the daily life of artists that I think are just brilliant:

If You Want To Write, by Brenda Ueland.

The Creative Habit: Learn it and Use It For Life, by Twyla Tharp.