johnmdemarco posted on April 07, 2010 11:37
Now that I’m at the stage where some people are starting to read the manuscript I spent eight months writing and re-writing (and re-writing some more) before telling a soul what it was about, I’m presciently aware of a certain balance that is difficult to achieve. The balance is the tension between the writer’s authenticity (being true to himself, to his own creative leadings and voice) and the necessity of engaging readers who want a compelling story.
For me, writing is a journey and an end in itself; the sheer pleasure of doing it outlasts any praise or commercial appeal. Any books I publish might or might not be remembered or available after I am gone from this planet, but the creative joy of tapping into deep mysteries of consciousness and turning them into prose is timeless and will always be with me.
However, I also recognize the value of commercial and critical “success.” Writing a product that people want to buy and tell others about leads to more resources to afford not only a certain quality of life, but more time to exercise that creative joy.
And this requires not just a certain degree of existing talent but hard work, openness to feedback, perseverance and a strength of heart and mind that refuses to give up on embracing that balance. The best art—whether in the form of books, music, movies, painting, sculpture, poetry, and so forth—is pregnant with authenticity and connects with a significant percentage of the population in a transformative manner.
As I reflected on the artist’s elusive balance, a key parallel emerged in my mind. Producing works of art that are both authentic to the creator and engaging to the recipients is quite analogous to the interactions of a healthy relationship. The “type” of relationship does not matter; the need for the creative balance is the same. Each person must be both authentic and able to engage the other person in relevant, helpful and encouraging ways.
To brush off one’s authenticity is to put on a guise for the overriding purpose of engaging someone else, fearful of the relationship otherwise not being intact. To become too focused on being true to one’s self, however, leads to narcissism and self-absorption and serves only to disengage the person to whom you are seeking to relate. Ah, that elusive balance.
I liked this recent process of spending the eight months in an “introvert stage,” simply writing and rewriting to develop the voice and purpose and conflict of my characters. This initial season sowed the seeds for the authenticity needed in order to more effectively engage others with the manuscript.
And similarly, when it comes to relationships, I have noticed that when I put the necessary time into developing myself and growing more aware of my perspectives and tendencies, I’m more effective at interpersonal dynamics and life flows along quite a bit better.
Many relationships at home, work and in the community could be more fruitful if each of us were willing to pause and do the hard work of becoming the “right person” before “finding” said individual. But this is the narrow road, the one less traveled.