Really, in the end, the only thing that can make you a writer is the person that you are, the intensity of your feeling, the honesty of your vision, the unsentimental acknowledgment of the endless interest of the life around and within you. Virtually nobody can help you deliberately—many people will help you unintentionally.

—Santha Rama Rau

Thomas Merton once wrote that all of the moments of our lives are opportunities for us to learn about our true selves, and that we must be open to self-discovery if we wish to live in harmony. Moving beyond blind imitation and what we think we know can often lead us to that place where truth is simply always waiting, with a quiet sort of peace that is ever-present at the depths, whatever may stir the surface of our lives.

Author and psychologist Harriet Lerner has said that in order for us to grow in self-knowledge, we must learn to go beyond the myths generated by the dominant cultures, which are transmitted through family and then internalized within the thoughts and beliefs of individuals. Sharing information about “the way things really are for us” is a big part of the way that we can “reconnect” ourselves with something greater, and move beyond those myths.

The writing life plays a part, and offers a path, in this process. For many, it's a vital component of that personal search, growth, and reconnection that Merton and Lerner have described.

It's also often a solitary pursuit, and the act of writing itself is a real expression of courage. Whatever the path we must go alone, it helps to stay in touch with others along the way. Stop back from time to time for a changing assortment of articles, support, and encouragement about the writing life. And enjoy happy writing hours in between.

ARTICLES ABOUT WRITING AND THE FREELANCE LIFE

Absolute Write

Catch a Poet’s Draft

Just Say No

E-Zee Writer

Power Tools for Conducting Professional Interviews

Write From Home

Local Pages Good News for Writers

Going Along for the Ride: Characters Drive Our Stories

The Writer’s E-zine

Partying Words: Why Can’t Writer’s Groups Be Fun, Too?

Spirit-Led Writer

Cutting (Out) Corners: Breaking Free When You Get Boxed in

The Dabbling Mum

Contests a Winning Way to Boost Business

"EXPERIENCE PREFERRED"

Writing is nurtured by what we live

At 16, as I turned in weekly stories for my local newspaper, I knew that wanted to write. But I also knew intuitively that a writer needs life experience.

That's why, while my friends pursued journalism or English degrees, I studied forestry—something I knew nothing about, though I’d always wanted to.

Getting good grades was easy—forestry jobs proved more elusive. So, since I'd earned tuition money working as a nurse’s aide, liked people, and was interested in health, I went to nursing school.

This career shift coincided with my marriage and near-instant family—two children in three years. My husband attended graduate school and I worked evenings as charge nurse of a 30-bed floor. I learned more about people and health, and our ships-in-the-afternoon life insured that our children always had at least one parent at home with them, an important commitment for us.

In my infrequent moments of solitude, I craved putting words on paper. A friend's spiritual-parenting newsletter provided a forum, and when she pulled my first story from the printer, she uttered a life-changing statement: "You know, you're a real WRITER."

Determined to prove her right, I launched at least a half-dozen novels and as many unfinished short stories.

Then an artist’s life story of faith and courage kept me awake one night, a local woman’s triumph in adversity prompted an essay, and when both sold to regional magazines, the editors quickly offered more assignments. My husband had gained enough job security since graduating for me to leave nursing to write full time—for about six months.

The shifting sands of the '80s saw most of my markets fold. Then a friend introduced the more stable option of a local newspaper group. She shared an assignment she was too sick to handle herself and meet the deadline. My first lesson in what was to become a newspaper-writing career: Be well-prepared to work as efficiently as possible on tight deadlines. The gift, I would learn, is that it can make you a better writer. Nothing forces you to organize—and prioritize—like limited time.

I brought my friend some sickbed reading and picked up every scrap and photocopy of background she had about her source. Then I sat down and nearly memorized most of it, after I’d called to set up the interview.

I knew nothing about the soft-drink bottling business. But the owner was more than happy to educate me about the company his family has kept alive for three generations. I realized pretty quickly what would make newspaper writing different from my earlier freelance efforts: Writing about what you know is good, but being a person with writing skills means you can also be the eyes and ears that help the reader learn. You just have to approach the work with attentive observational and listening skills—and good questions.

My interview subject gave me great quotes and was a wonderful storyteller. Still, when it came time to write the story, I held to rules that have never failed me: Keep the writing succinct (in this case, absolutely nothing over the 800-word maximum); make it clear and accurate; and keep the tone conversational, even friendly.

After the interview, conscious of how little time I had, I did something that has served me well ever since. I came home and drafted out whatever I could remember from the interview in very rough form, looking for places where things naturally linked together, where transitions suggested themselves. In the hundreds of articles I’ve written for magazines and newspapers, I’ve seldom included much more than what I capture in these "first thoughts", even when faced with multiple tapes of complex interviews. It is within this process that I usually "discover" the lead, if I haven’t already heard it during the interview, and often intuit how the story will wrap, as well.

The editor called the day after I filed the story to offer three more. Soon, it looked like I'd need to return to the workplace and that’s when that editor called to tell me the paper had an opening for a assistant editor—especially one who could also write features.

My writer’s education began in earnest. Writer's block? I was too busy cranking out stories, meeting tight deadlines, and trying to engage readers and tell a story well in under 800 words. (And mediating by phone the occasional disagreement between my two pre-teenagers.)

I learned just what valuable currency ideas are in a writer's world—a lifeline to future work. Although I was a features writer, I watched the success reporters had making friends on their beats (the only way to know that a major decision was made seconds after you left that board meeting you thought had adjourned, because your deadline was two hours away). I cultivated similar friendships in the community and the best stories I’ve published are the ones that prompt reader-friends to call and pitch other ideas my article has brought to their minds.

Eventually, I became features editor—my "graduate study" in what editors need (and don’t), how to time queries and submissions, and what makes editors appreciate writers. I gained a storehouse of ideas and access to interviews with those both nationally and locally known. Among the many resales I made were a couple of national markets.

A newsroom can be a gloomy place to work though. So when a nearby religious conference center needed a program coordinator, I was ready for change. It kept my writing muscles warm, brought contact with thousands of people from around the world, increased my knowledge about many social issues, and helped me get to know the Internet.

After five years, I had that mid-life longing for "the life unlived" and took a leap of faith into full-time freelancing in 2000. I decided that I would assess my progress after six months and get another job as necessary.

At the six-month mark, I was closing in on what I had made each month in that job I left. I had had manuscripts accepted by such markets as Ms., The Mennonite, Bay Area Parent, and Pockets magazine for children, and had secured three regular contributor’s gigs. I was also getting more nods in response to the many queries I made sure I sent out each week.

My "career" trail taught me I can learn anything I decide to. Writing’s less about what you know than what you’re excited to find out on the reader’s behalf and share as readably and accurately as you can. Of course, this includes learning more about good writing.

Yes, life experience is a writer’s necessity, and my publication credits now flow directly from it—parenting, health, environment, spirituality, and the variety of life's issues that increasingly interest me.

What I didn’t know at 16 is that the way we use our God-given abilities to follow where that experience leads is the way that we find our truest writing voice—and our success.