Matthew 25:14-30

[pegkerr]

She sat perched on the edge of the chair, fidgeting a little, in the well-appointed anteroom, which was decorated with tasteful paintings on the wall and an aquarium stocked with colorful tropical fish. She knew that the fish were there to keep people from becoming nervous, but even knowing that didn't help enough. After a short wait, she was ushered into his office. A junior flunky politely offered her a choice of soda or water or coffee, but she refused. She didn't think she could have raised the cup to her lips without the trembling in her fingers becoming totally obvious.

There were pleasantries at first. She expected that, and did her best to sound natural as she replied to his polite inquiries about the day job, the family, a recent vacation. Perhaps if she just pretended to be confident, she could finesse this interview without getting too embarrassed. The trouble was, she didn't think that she could convincingly assume an air of insouciance, particularly when all she felt was sheer terror at having to face him and admit the truth. Then he leaned forward a little, looking at the papers on the desk in front of him, and she felt a frisson of dread.

"I was so pleased with your progress the last time we visited," he told her. "The Wild Swans was--well, it made me very proud." And she believed him. That, perversely, was what made facing him now so awful. He paused, looking at her expectantly, and she realized he was giving her a chance to respond. She murmured a rather disjointed thanks, something to the effect that she was quite proud of it, too. She hoped he wouldn't think she sounded like a ninny. She also hoped he wouldn't see how wretched admitting this made her feel now.

"So tell me," he said, picking up an elegant fountain pen and holding it poised over the papers in front of him. "What have you been working on since our last meeting?"

She looked down at her hands, clenched together tightly in her lap. "I was--I had started another novel. About--about an ice palace. The St. Paul Winter Carnival ice palace, you know. The central character is the architect designing it. And it's--well. Well. About--about summer and winter magic." She cursed herself inwardly for her own stammering.

He waited, but she volunteered nothing more. "That sounds promising. It could be quite interesting, indeed." Another pause. "But you are not finished with it yet?"

Slowly, she shook her head. "No, I'm not." She heard the leather of his seat creak as he sat back, looking at her. She couldn't bring herself to look up to meet his eyes as she added faintly, "I--I don't think I'm going to finish it."

The pause that followed was very long indeed. "I see," he said. Was he angry, she wondered anxiously? Was he surprised? She couldn't tell. She could feel her palms starting to sweat. "Then--what are you working on now, Ms. Kerr?"

She could hear the faint ticking of the elegant clock on his desk. How was it possible to hear that over the thundering of her own heartbeat? Couldn't she just keel over out of sheer nerves and end the agony of this interview that way? She took a deep breath. "I'm not working on anything right now," she said, surprising herself with the steadiness of her own voice. Fleetingly, with an enormous effort, she finally raised her gaze to meet his. "I don't think I'm going to write any more novels, sir." Inwardly, she cringed. There. She had said it.

"No more novels?" Slowly, he turned the pen over in his fingers. Tap. Tap. "May I ask why you do not think you will be writing any more novels?"

She opened her mouth and closed it again as a wave of shame swept over her. Tears prickled the corners of her eyes. Oh, no. No. I swore I would not cry. "It's--it's just so hard. It's very difficult." She cleared her throat.

"Difficult." The very flatness of his voice made the inadequacy of the excuse clear.

"I'm just--well, I'm just so busy. Ferrying the girls around. Keeping up with everything. And I try to write--I try to write, and nothing comes." There were other reasons, of course. The frittering away of her time on the internet. The time spent reading junk. Why mention it? She already looked stupid enough as it was.

"But you try."

"Well. I did. I did, for a long time. Eventually--eventually, I stopped trying, you see."

Tap. Tap. "If you do not write your novels, Ms. Kerr," he said with infinite gentleness, "no one else will write them for you."

His very gentleness made her feel even worse. I will not cry. "I know that, sir," she ground out through gritted teeth.

He pulled the calendar before him forward and named a future date. "I will see you for your next report then."

"But--but I won't have anything to report," she said desperately. "I told you. I've stopped writing novels."

But he was already writing her name down on the paper, and he raised an eyebrow. "We shall see, Ms. Kerr. We shall see."

Comments

[prunesnprisms.livejournal.com]

I am not at all sure this is a fair assessment to you. For one thing, I always thought that the term talents was a mistranslation of a monetary unit. For another thing, even if you want to take it literally, you have been given a number of gifts and with them you are making other gifts. Like raising two young reasonably well-adjusted girls, and keeping up with your karate.

Why would a higher authority judge you like that? Life is a series of tradeoffs, every time. You won't be the first to give up something you love (and hopefully come back to it later) when something that is a higher priority intervenes.

[cakmpls.livejournal.com]

I agree with most of what everyone has said here, but especially this: "Life is a series of tradeoffs, every time." If G-d didn't mean it to be so, G-d is the one being with the power to have made it otherwise. (This is the Hypothetical G-d, me being a nontheist and all, but I don't think any theist would disagree.)

There is always something else we could be doing. We always have a choice, even if it's a heavily weighted one, even if it's ______ or die. (I guess one can posit some really hideous situations, such as involving thrill killers and torture, where this wouldn't be so, but let's not.) I think the important question is often not "Why am I not doing X?" but "Why have I chosen to do Y?" (Sometimes, of course, the answer is "Because it's not X.")

[hobbitbabe.livejournal.com]

Okay, this piece of writing - and the resonances with my own recent/current life and a conversation I had with my counsellor this morning - made me cry. That, damn it, is a gift, and you are using it.

[nmalfoy.livejournal.com]

Harper Lee only wrote the one book, you know. And look at her legacy.

As to reading junk, reading is important. You've got to stimulate your brain. All of your energy is taken up being a mom and wife and employee. Once the girls are older and don't require so much from you, I bet the muse will return.

[pegkerr.livejournal.com]

Yes, Harper Lee is someone I think of quite often when I feel most insecure about stopping writing fiction.

[archmage45.livejournal.com]

I have not read your words beyond Livejournal, though I do have Wild Swans on the bookshelf. I hope you know how much I enjoy reading this, reading about you, and Rob, and the girls. Seeing how they grow through your eyes, seeing how you face all of it. And you've faced a lot! I am impressed at how you do it, I am impressed at how you take on karate, and how you face writing or not writing. Whatever your choice, if it even is a choice, I'll still be reading what you write here. And so will many others!

[rachelmanija.livejournal.com]

That's a lovely piece of writing, and one which I identify with a great deal.

All the same, I hope next time you either present what you have, whether it's this LJ or it's 500 words of Harry Potter fanfic, or don't show up at all.

[zencuppa.livejournal.com]

To me, creativity and communication show up everywhere and in every person.

And it changes.

Maybe your creative energies are going into your girls, marriage and a busy life. I have two small boys, both of which are special needs. I find my creative energy is just as important to their development as it is to mine.

Just my two cents.

*hugs*

[ambar.livejournal.com]

What you said.

Also, I was thinking the other day how much I'm looking forward to reading the ice palace novel. ;)

[sdn.livejournal.com]

a brilliant post.

also, what about short stories?

[pegkerr.livejournal.com]

I have been turning a short story over in my mind for several months about the troll who was forced out from under the 35W bridge when it fell and moved under the Stone Arch Bridge, the one I walk every day.

I am planning to write a karate essay for the Newsweek column My Turn, but after that, I may take a crack at the troll story.

[eal.livejournal.com]

I hesitate to be the one to point this out, but there's no law that says that you have to write novels to be a writer. What you just wrote, plus all of your various blog entries and conferences papers prove that you are a writer.

Your genre may have changed, but you still write :).

Remember, we study Boswell in British literature courses and "all" he did was write about his experiences following Samuel Johnson around.

Personally, I think you could write a hell of book on your experiences with karate, but that's just me.

[aeditimi.livejournal.com]

ditto to what you said.

your writing, Peg, makes the scene, be it a dinner table, a dojo, or a desk (with seventeen post-it pads) come alive! I was with you.

So the talents reference. Are you feeling that this is the moment whe you are being asked what you have done with your talents? Because there are a great many other moments when you are asked what you've done with a great many other talents, and the answers have more to do with conversations you've had with your spouse/kids than with your boss/agent. And you're true to yourself, good and faithful servant.

[ravenspb.livejournal.com]

That was...amazing.

I hope that, by writing it, you were able to help yourself in some way. You have to do what drives you, even if it seems to be something as "small" as guiding your family through their lives.

[cathellisen.livejournal.com]

Wow.

So very good.

[barondave.livejournal.com]

I have a couple of reactions to this post.

One of my favorite recent albums is The Inundation by Isabelle Delage. She started a career as a singer/songwriter in the 70s, then put it off until now, when her kids were grown. It was worth the wait.

I will suggest (again) to you the Draft 0 concept: Don't write a novel (or anything). Just jot down ideas, scenes, random bits of dialog, character descriptions, etc etc. No order, you're not writing a first draft. At some point they may congeal. The ones that go together will eventually, of their own accord, become sentences, paragraphs, chapters, outlines. Or not. Save the leftover bits for future reference.

Nota Bene: Writing beautiful posts to LJ counts as writing. It's more than just typing practice.

[shandra.livejournal.com]

I hope he doesn't call me next. :)

[pegkerr.livejournal.com]

*snerk*

[seagrit.livejournal.com]

I went to BibleGateway to look up the passage in the title of this entry, and what came up when I first loaded the page was " 7Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. 8For everyone who asks receives; [s]he who seeks finds; and to [her] who knocks, the door will be opened." I don't believe random coincidence is the hand of God, but I do think the passage applies. When we ask, seek, knock, God answers (not always what we want to hear), helps us find things (not necessarily what we expect to get), and opens doors (to places we never dreamed of asking or seeking for).

Writing

[markiv1111.livejournal.com]

Peg, I'm almost afraid to write to you right now, because my story would be (already is) so different from anything you would want to hear. After getting at least a little money for five short stories and having had two editors ask me for novels, I came home from the 1990 Clarion knowing that I would never write again. In many ways it is very, very easy for me to beat myself up for being a failure, but if you look at everything except the writing, I am doing better than ever -- taking real pride in my day job, having a good relationship with my stepson, being happily married, releasing two compact discs that are so much better than the three tapes that warmed me up for the CDs. I don't want you to go a route like this if you do not have to or do not choose to do so, but I would be proof that one's self-image need not be wrapped up in my life as a writer. You at least did finish one novel, and you are raising two girls; you have the right to rest on your laurels *without beating yourself up over it* until either you are ready to resume writing, or until you have a far clearer idea about "doing the next thing" and what that next thing is. And if what I am saying sounds too negative, note that you are living your life and I am living mine; and if your route is both different than mine and not what you thought it was going to be, you have the right to that route, and to accept the trade-offs you made in walking that route. Note that I have a hug for you waiting out there in outer space somewhere, for you to accept if you ever decide you know me well enough to do so. Hang in there and know that what you are doing now is very worth doing indeed.

Nate B.

Re: Writing

[pegkerr.livejournal.com]

Thanks, Nate.

And yeah, I'll take that hug, with pleasure, the next time I see you.

[oracne.livejournal.com]

THAT was writing.

And it was very, very good.

[livsmama.livejournal.com]

That was wonderful! Wonderful writing and the story resonates with me as well.

You know I read the Wild Swans years before I knew what LJ was and I loved it so much.

[huladavid.livejournal.com]

Hmm... I'm rather tempted to grab "He-Who-Sits-Behind-The-Desk" and ask, "So, what have YOU written lately??.

I'll tell the truth, I was saddened when you said you might not write again. I really liked what I'd seen of the Ice Palace book, but I'm also reminded of something that happend just before the '92 Quilt display at the Metrodome.

One of the core committee members was going through some rough stuff and, at a committee meeting said he was thinking of dropping out. Everyone else really put the pressure on him to stay, but my message to him was that he needed to take care of himself and that his sanity was more important than the Quilt.

You've more talents than writing. For one thing you practice "Life" very well, although you may not agree.

Long post short, take care of yourself.

[pegkerr.livejournal.com]

Hmm... I'm rather tempted to grab "He-Who-Sits-Behind-The-Desk" and ask, "So, what have YOU written lately??.

Thanks, David.

I have a button that hangs above my desk that reads "So I haven't been writing much lately. Neither has Shakespeare."

[jbru.livejournal.com]

My reaction: The Pope like Wild Swans? Cool!

[pegkerr.livejournal.com]

*snickers* Not the Pope. Someone Higher Up, actually.

[swords-and-pens.livejournal.com]

Nice bit of writing, Peg, even if you aren't "writing" with a capital W. Which only goes to show that the venue, and the length, aren't important; it's enough that you are expressing yourself in words. Good words. Thoughful words. Your words.

[mkaout.livejournal.com]

So this was a conversation you had with God?

Grace.
Acceptance.
Love.
Guidance.
Belief.

Makes sense.

[weaselmom.livejournal.com]

This was very poignant. It reminded me of "Leaf by Niggle" without being *like* LbN, if that makes sense.

[papersky.livejournal.com]

OK, everyone else is on your side, I'm on his side.

Write, write, write, write, write!

[dichroic.livejournal.com]

Shouldn't they be the same side?

[dustybinx.livejournal.com]

Emerald House Rising = Beautiful story.

[corinnethewise.livejournal.com]

You are still one of my favorite writers, right up there with Martha Nussbaum. I loved Emerald House Rising and I still name Wild Swans when asked my what my most influential book is (a fairly common question in my group of friends). However, as reading your LJ for years has shown me, you have many talents, and writing is only one of them. I firmly believe that to write good fiction, you need to want to write. I also believe that if you really want to write another novel, you will. Perhaps just not now. Maybe not even the ice palace novel. I've trashed tons of ideas that I've done research on and started to write once I realized that my heart just wasn't in it. You are doing other things that are important, and that's okay.

[faithhopetricks.livejournal.com]

Wow. What a lovely story.