Finding Me Some Outgoing Guts and Imagination

“Everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” Sylvia Plath Wow. You go Sylvia Plath. And here I was all set to write a piece on how I was struggling to find an authentic voice in my blog. That might surprise people who know me. I teach folks how to find their authentic voice on paper – so if anyone should have one packed and ready to roll out for a weekly blog it would be me. Not so. When I’m with my Wild Writing students four days a week I write really honest, messy stories about my relationships, sexuality, addiction, aging, all the things I long for and struggle with. I show up naked and full of those unseemly thigh dimples. I think that’s why I have so many writers who come back and work with me year after year; I put myself on the line and model the kind of authentic writing that Wild Writing is all about. And when I forget how to do it, my students take the lead. Together we create a world where imagination and guts is golden, the thing we reach for. But the blog isn’t a room full of women who I’ve been writing with for months. I have no idea who is reading this, but moreover, I’ve been confused about what to share. My website and my more public persona is that of a writing teacher, but that’s just a slice of who I am. How do I find that middle...
What Racquetball Teaches Me About Creativity

What Racquetball Teaches Me About Creativity

This post was inspired by watching a number of my students sink after what they considered a less-than-stellar session of writing. It is dedicated to them and to anyone who makes things: art, stories, pie. It is a note to the part of ourselves that gets frustrated when we don’t create something we like – when we wonder what the hell we were thinking when we picked up that pen or that paintbrush or that pastry dough. This is my take on the creative process, and what it means to humble ourselves to where we are and not judge, because judging is not an accurate or interesting measure of much, except this moment and then the next moment – which is kind of like reporting the weather – which, as we know, is always changing. So much of what I know about this I learned (and continue to learn) on the racquetball court. Here, there are plenty of moments – some excellent and others totally doggy – that could paint a picture about my success or failure as a player. But if I were to hold on to every good and bad shot I make in a game, and judge what kind of player I am based on each shot, I’d be a mess on the court. I would never make it to 15 points. It’s easy to feel great when you’re playing well or writing well, but when you’re not, that’s where the rubber meets the road and you are challenged to practice getting comfortable with discomfort. And it’s odd, but my favorite part of the game lately...