THE DOCTOR IS IN

MORE ON COMMITMENT

Last week I had lunch with a friend who is not only a gifted and successful novelist, but a savvy businessman. Among the many topics we covered during our wide-ranging conversation was the nature of my next project.

"You have to write another book on creativity!" he said.

"I've started a new novel...."

"But you have the perfect platform! Listen!" And he proceeded to outline a fascinating concept--a book I would love to read. I began to imagine such a book. I started throwing out ideas. "Brilliant!" he said. "You can sell this as a proposal. There's no way this won't be snapped up. It will be the next Blink!"

I floated out of the restaurant, a bit surprised that the waitstaff wasn't more deferential to the new Malcolm Gladwell. On the train, I opened my Moleskine to jot down a few more scintillating ideas--and found pages of notes for the novel I have been working on, sporadically, for the past two years. And my stomach sank.

I have had very good luck getting my stories and essays published. My two completed novels, on the other hand, have gone nowhere. They are too weird. They don't fit into any category that marketing departments recognize. I have told myself, repeatedly, that there is no future for me in novel writing. Friends, including my lunch companion, have encouraged me to stick to nonfiction because it is much easier to place, especially when you have a built-in platform.

And yet this novel really wants me to write it. I'm fascinated by the subject matter. Getting a grip on the topic requires extensive research--and everything I read pulls me more deeply into the story I want to tell. I find myself composing passages on the train, in the swimming pool, while washing dishes. I have pages of outline that I revise continually.

The only things holding me back from writing it full-steam are a) lack of time; and b) the conviction that I should put other, more practical projects first, because, based on history, the chances of publication are slim to none. Working on it is pure self-indulgence.

This projected nonfiction book, I told myself, did have promise. I have the background and understanding of the field to write a very good, helpful book, and the qualifications to sell it. It would be only practical to set the novel aside (again!) and work on a proposal. If it did sell, that could only help in placing my novel down the line. Right?

And yet there was that sick feeling--the one I get when I'm in danger of betraying myself, of doing what I'm "supposed to" do, according to some outside standard, instead of following my internal compass. I've done that too often in my life, and I'm trying to stop.

So I had to ask myself--did I really want to write this new book? Would I be completely committed to, and engaged in, the process? Or did I just want to have written something that had a reasonable chance of publication?

The topic interests me--I would certainly read such a book if someone else wrote it--but enough to spend years researching, writing, revising, and promoting? Years that I could use to finally get a handle on my novel? Or to live my life in other fulfilling ways?

I would love to be as successful as Malcolm Gladwell. But his books are so good because they reflect his authentic interests and enthusiasm.

Or am I just naive? Or manufacturing reasons not to take the next step?

To be continued.

Susan O'Doherty, Ph.D., is a clinical psychologist with a New York City-based practice. A fiction writer herself, she specializes in issues affecting writers and other creative artists. Her book,  Getting Unstuck Without Coming Unglued: A Woman's Guide to Unblocking Creativity (Seal, 2007) is now available in bookstores. Send your questions to her at Dr.Sue at mindspring dot com.

Comments

[Sarah]

Something like this happened to me too. Twice. I had reached a point of readiness to write a novel and each time, an editor contacted me out of the blue with an offer for a non-fiction book. Both times it felt like I "shouldn't" say no. So the novel went on hold. The two books I wrote certainly weren't on the level of Blink, though they were satisfying to write and I know they helped people. But what I mostly learned is that my true passion is fiction, especially when it came to the platform and marketing stuff. A friend of mine called the two non-fiction offers "worldly temptations"- meaning they tempted me away from my real soul desire- to write a novel. After all, the editors came calling- and the books were relatively easy and interesting to write. But they weren't what has been in my heart as long as I can remember- to write a novel. And even as I've written my novel, tantalizing ideas and suggestions for nonfiction books have arisen, but I try and remind myself- "that can always be written later." And after all, It's not like being a novelist invalidates one's ability to write a nonfiction book later- in fact, it may strengthen it!

[Jennie]

I completely sympathize. I took a job once that I knew I didn't really want, simply because they wanted me and they made an attractive offer. But it felt like being tempted into infidelity--I just wanted to be appreciated. The very first week I knew my heart wasn't in it. There's financial necessity, of course, but beyond that, you have to do what you care about. Otherwise, you burn out.

(And I know just what you mean by "too weird" novels. To whom do you market a gay romance/identity struggle set in modern-day Atlantis?)

[Caroline Leavitt]

Oh Gosh. Write what's in your heart, not what you think you should write. Don't put it off. In life, you should follow your passion. Think about it, on your deathbed, are you going to say, God, I'm glad I wrote the nonfiction book everyone urged me to write? Or are you going to say, I'm glad I worked on the book I felt a soul connection to. It sounds like (with the nonfiction sure bet) you are writing for a known success rather than for your soul, and knowing you, I think you ought to go for your soul.

[Katharine Weber]

Are the only choices A or B?

What about C?

That would be: Make a schedule for working on the nonfiction project, for all the obvious practical reasons, and at the same time make a commitment to the novel, with a mapped plan and calendar to ensure protected writing time.

[Susan O'Doherty]

Thank you all for these important observations. Sarah, your experience is instructive, and the term "worldly temptations" is useful. Caroline, you do know me (and my writing) and I know you're right, and thanks for the reminder. Katharine, that is a great plan, after my kid is grown and I win the lottery--right now there's barely enough time for one writing project, let alone two!

And, Jennie, I would love to read that novel! If I hear about a publishing company that specializes in weird books, I'll pass the information on!

[Katharine Weber]

If you are waiting to win the lottery in order to find the time to write the novel, then I hope you are buying a lot of lottery tickets.

The truth is -- and I speak from my own experience of being an unpublished fiction writer before my first novel was published -- the world isn't going to hire you to write that novel. The world may well want to hire you to do all sorts of other very worthy things. But only you can hire you to write the novel.

(I just re-read your column before posting this because your reply to my first comment seemed confusingly at odds with what I thought you had written in the column.)

[Susan O'Doherty]

Katharine, I think I wasn't clear. I spend my spare time working on the novel and my short stories, but the time is limited. Although I love the idea that this nonfiction project would earn enough money to free up more writing time, realistically, the idea of becoming "the next Malcolm Gladwell" is probably a bit inflated. NF writing has been more lucrative for me than fiction writing (looking for change on the street has been more lucrative for me than fiction writing) but at least for the short term and probably longer, the work would be in addition to, not instead of, everything else I'm responsible for.

I also have only so much writing energy, as I learned when I wrote for a living. I know some people become energized and inspired by the process of writing, and can use this to segue from one project to another. I'm not one of them.

[Katharine Weber]

Thank you for the clarification. I really do understand the deeply regrettable limitations of being just one person living just one life. However, you are the author of this paragraph:

"And yet there was that sick feeling--the one I get when I'm in danger of betraying myself, of doing what I'm "supposed to" do, according to some outside standard, instead of following my internal compass. I've done that too often in my life, and I'm trying to stop."

[Sarah]

I'm glad you mentioned your limited writing energy. This is a major issue for me too- I get energized creatively when I write, but physically it can really tire me out. It's frustrating- my mind wants to keep going but my body says stop. Hard when you still have other work and a family, but I've cut out most other things in my life to make it doable.