
The Strange Reaction Many People Have to Your New Writing Endeavor and How to Deal With It
Forward, as occasion offers. Never look round to see whether any shall note it… Be satisfied with success in even the smallest matter, and think that even such a result is no trifle.
-Marcus Aurelius
This is addressed to to all you new writers out there. Tell me if this sounds familiar to you. You decide to start writing. You know. You’ve been wanting to do it your entire life, but for one reason or another, you’ve never been able to get started. The reasons are countless: you’re too busy with family commitments, work, or something else that takes up all of your waking time. Maybe you’re afraid to put yourself out there. Or maybe you start, but people around you just don’t get it. Why all of a sudden do you want to spend so much time writing? What are you hoping to accomplish?
As with most new pursuits we take up in life that strike those around us as a big change, people sometimes have a hard time coming to grips with it. At first, they don’t take you seriously, thinking it’s just a brief virus or something you will eventually get over. But then when it sticks, they don’t know what to make of it. They don’t really want to hear about it, and they might try to ignore it altogether. Then when you want to talk about it, they act like it’s the only thing you ever talk about in an effort to get you to quiet down.
Why do people do this? Why can’t everyone embrace the new you and your new avocation? Why do some people act bizarre when you take up something new and important to you?
I knew a man once who could answer questions like this. He was a lot older than me — in fact over a decade older than my own father — and I remember his sage and wise advice to this day. I think some of that applies to the current subject. When telling him about a disconnect I was experiencing with some people on a different issue, he said, “Well, your problem is people can’t identify with most of your experiences. They can’t relate. They can only relate to you based on that narrow, limited period of time they knew you. If you get outside that, the safest thing they can do is ignore it. Pretty much everything with them is just surface-level. That’s the majority of folks. But the very few who go deep with you; they’re your real, true friends. Bonded for life.” He had succinctly summed up the points I am making now with the subject of writing.
There could be any number of reasons that people don’t want to “go deep” with you. In most cases, however, unless someone has been with you your entire life, they can only relate to you through the narrow and finite prism of that period of time they knew you. That’s the you they know. That’s the you they expect. That’s the you they’re comfortable with. That’s the you they want to hang out with. Insecurity sets in the moment you become a different you.
In a sense, they’ve placed you inside a box and that’s where they prefer you to stay. Because if you step outside that box, they start to get uncomfortable. All of sudden, they don’t know how to act. Time with these people goes like this. They address you and talk with and about you as if it’s still the past. If you start to talk about your writing (which is the natural answer to the question about what you’ve been doing lately), they deftly or ham-handedly move the conversation back to the place they want it, where they are comfortable. Ever have this experience? In their defense, we all semi-consciously want to find common ground. Common ground gives us stuff to talk about, no matter how banal the common ground might be. And let’s face it; we writers are in a distinct minority out there. Add to this the fact that we now live in a 140-character world on social media, and it means fewer and fewer out there are reading anymore, let alone interested in the subject of writing. Attention spans are at an all-time low.
How do you deal with this? You might want to change these people, but the fact is, they aren’t going to change. So we have to change. We have to stop expecting people to automatically be interested in our new pursuit. They don’t know anything about writing and they likely don’t want to know. They also subconsciously don’t want to be reminded that you are putting yourself out there and trying something new when they aren’t or are too afraid to follow suit with something of their own. So give them a break. Not everyone is going to embrace the new you, and a lot of people are not going to like it. You’re writing for yourself anyway, right? You don’t have anything to prove to anyone. Except for maybe yourself.
The solution I think the man I mentioned above would’ve suggested? In another discussion he said, “Don’t stay in the box people want to put you in. They want to keep you in that box they’ve created for you, and if you try something that’s outside that box, they get uncomfortable. It’s not their fault. Don’t worry about it. Just do your thing. Every single person has gifts and talents just waiting to be explored and developed. It’s never too late to find a second calling.”
But how do we implement this wise guidance? How do you or I do this individually? Simply put, you have to get to that point where the only person you’re trying to satisfy or impress is yourself.
Realize you’re now on a less-traveled path than almost everyone else, and the people not on your path aren’t going to be familiar with it or why you’re on it in the first place. Don’t get annoyed when someone doesn’t ask how your writing is going. Don’t get offended when someone asks, but appears to just be feigning interest when they abruptly change the subject. If they want to keep you on their subject and in their sphere of discussion, let them do it. Just be secure in your own knowledge that you broke out of that box a long time ago. Inwardly shake your head again in bemusement. Consider the advice of Marcus Aurelius. And smile.

