I have asked myself this question many times, taken online quizzes
and submitted samples for analysis and at the end of it all I’ve determined
that I don’t one hundred percent know what kind of writer I am. I should know. Shouldn’t I?
I know what I like to write. I like to write poetry when I’m particularly
stressed or emotional. I write quickly
without any rules and let the words arrive of their own volition. There was a time when I wrote a poem every
night before bed. I wrote them all at
once, without stopping to edit or revise or allow myself time to think about it
much. And I found this kind of writing gave
me a tremendous sense of release. Other
times I write in vignettes painting a picture with broad gestures and very
little shading. These stories usually arrive as a whole at inopportune moments
and I find myself scrambling for some paper and a pencil and write until the
story is done or my brain kicks in and puts an end to it. Sometimes I write historical fiction. I like the narrative, the flowery prose, the
use of language. And I like to write for
children.
If you asked me what kind of a book I would most like to
publish, the genre I would most like to be known for, I would have to say that
I would like to be known as a children’s author. I’d be over the moon to be able to tell a
story like Kate DiCamillo does or Roald Dahl or Brian Selznick or J.K. Rowling
or Neil Gaiman. I love the imagination
behind children’s fiction. I love the
idea that parents are flawed, that animals talk and that little boys can live
in clock towers or become wizards or be raised in graveyards. It is a magical genre and I want to be a
magician.
Writing for children satisfies the part of me that is
unwilling to grow up. Or is it unable? When I sit down to work on a children’s story
I feel a certain sense of melancholy. It’s
painful. I think it’s fear. I’m afraid that I want it so badly that I’ll
never get it. I feel like I’m 12 years
old with my eye on a new bike and only 3 dollars in my piggy bank. I want the bike, I’m working for the bike,
but there’s no guarantee that I’ll ever get the bike. The thing is that if I don’t do the work I
remove the possibility.
Possibilities are what children’s books are all about.
Today I watched Neil Gaiman’s 2012 commencement speech ‘Make
Good Art’. He talked about worry and how
it kept him from enjoying the journey some of the time. It’s keeping me from enjoying the journey as
well. Not that I’m in the same stratosphere
as Mr. Gaiman as a writer but he is also a human who worries sometimes.
I’ve decided that I am a multi-faceted writer just as I am a
multi-faceted person. I don’t have to
pick one. I just have to make good
art.
