Personal growth
Letting Myself Just Be
Growing into my myriad creative selves
My eight-year-old granddaughter, Kai, gifted me a bird journal this spring. “So you can write down the names of the birds that visit your backyard.”
But only about ten or eleven kinds of birds visit my backyard. Not enough to fill a journal.
“Can I instead write the names of the books I read?” I asked.
Kai looked doubtful but nodded.
All over the place
I jotted down the names of the last three books I had read and a one-line description of their contents. I had Accordion Crimes (immigrants settling America), Into Thin Air (summiting Mt. Everest), and The Good Good Pig (the true story of a pig called “Christopher Hogwood”).
The previous month, I read Richard Dawkins’ The Selfish Gene (I have to confess a lot of the technical stuff went over my head, but the central premise was intriguing) and re-read Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar.
I took stock of my April and May reads. And my inner critic — who never misses an opportunity — voiced her disapproval: Your reads are all over the place.
Why disapproval? Allow me to explain.
Read the genre you want to write
Most of my friends are readers, and they have specific preferences. They seek out new authors. They enjoy stories about immigrants. They love stories about relationships — especially intra-family. They attend monthly book club meetings.
I would never seek a book club membership because I don’t like being constrained. I want to read what I want to read. My book choices bounce off the walls: Shakespeare, Sedaris, and Sue Monk Kidd. Dickens, Dawkins, and Delia Owens. I veer from the classics to contemporary fiction and from creative nonfiction to science-for-the-layman books.
These books are my joy, my meditation, my fire, my desire (nod to the Backstreet Boys here). So why do my reading choices gnaw at me?
If I were only a reader, I would think nothing of the matter. I would read across genres without a pang and with a ton of enjoyment. But I am also a writer. Therefore, I must second-guess myself.
“Read the genre you want to write” was a tip I heard in a Meetup writing group I used to belong to.
The problem is that I don’t have a specific reading genre. Was that why I could never hone in on a writing niche?
Falling off the wagon
My daughter, N, writes content for a living.
She tells me you have to stick with a niche in order to build readership. “People should know what to expect from your pen. It can be head-spinning for readers to ricochet from one topic, mindset, or mood to another.”
N has carved out discrete avatars for herself on social media. There is the technical content writer; the blogger who puts forth her views on feminism, cultural stereotypes, and the immigrant experience; and the memoirist, who shares her personal and emotional journey.
In each space, the reader knows what to expect. And from where N stands, her writerly philosophy is both practical and pragmatic.
My niche, if I could stick with it, would be essays about gardening, animals, and my family.
But then suddenly, a news clip about gun violence or animal cruelty sparks a mini-rant. A crazy-good prompt on Medium sets off a poem. A YouTube trend inspires a piece about the said trend. A story I made up for the grandkids finds its way to a Medium pub.
I try to mollify my inner critic. I’ll indulge myself just this once with a poem, rant, or children’s story. Then, it’s straight back to the niche.
It never works. I keep falling off the niche wagon with unfailing regularity.
I could follow N’s example and create at least a couple of avatars — one for the home-and-garden pieces and one for everything else. But currently, with my non-writing plate piled high, I have just enough time and bandwidth for a single avatar.
Shamelessly nicheless
There was a time when I would have tried to make myself stay niche. But one of the best things about growing older is that I have stopped humoring the vulture-on-my-shoulder.
📚 Now I read the books I am drawn to. I read at my own pace and frequently venture off-road to explore an unfamiliar concept, thing, or place. Or to look up a new word.
✍ I write about anything that catches my fancy and when I feel the topic in my bones. I go with a quote attributed to Toni Morrison: “Write the book you want to read.” So, I write across a slew of topics because that is how I like to — and want to — read.
👁🗨 Finally, as a writer, I do my thing and let my readers do theirs.
Letting myself just be
Indulging my nichelessness as a writer is also about exploring myriad creative paths — and not just in the world of letters.
It is about painting planters or illustrating a children’s story, even though I have never been artsy. It is doing a decent job at singing karaoke and choreographing Indian folk dances. It is about trying my hand at ikebana and quilting with mixed results. And about creating a green and welcoming space for my furred, feathered, and winged friends.
It is about not worrying that I will be perceived as dilettante-ish. It is about enjoying the creative process without berating myself if the end product is less than perfect — or even short of amazing.
It’s about letting myself just be. 🌷
Dear Readers, Thanks for stopping by! 🌻🌼
Do check out Libby Shively McAvoy’s story about taking a small step toward saving our coral reefs:
Thank you Sahil Patel for publishing my story! Much appreciated.
