Tonight I had the pleasure of speaking with the North Metro Area Writers’ Meetup on the idea that leaning into your unique voice, purpose, and path can bolster a writing career. In my experience, when you stop thinking like a supporting character and start accepting a leading role in your writing life, interesting things happen.

Ordinary Jerrica...or Holograms Lead Singer Jem?

Too often, we’re fed the line that writers merely have their ear to the floor, that they’re glorified secretaries taking dictation from finicky muses.  I’m never going to claim that writing isn’t (freaking) mysterious, but I do think that it’s too easy to discount ourselves in the process.  Instead of railing against the unfairness of there being approximately three story ideas ever, none of them original, we would do well to lean into what we bring to the table.

Maybe our Brooklyn childhood and WPA political schooling taught us to look out for detail about the poor immigrants who make the machine of the United States go (Betty Smith).  Maybe our brother shot us in the eye and taught us to see things slightly askew (Alice Walker).  Maybe we want to bring a bit of magic into the world (Frances Hodgson Burnett).  Each of these authors tackled the coming-of-age story, but they did it so uniquely and with such beautiful difference that we will always view them as individuals.

Along with many writers I know, I’m thinking a lot about My Next Step.  What do I bring to the table?  What do I suck at?  What can I live with?  What perspective is unique to the enthusiastically vestigial Southern Californian history nerd with the scarred-up roller derby knee and the obsession with the everyday details of history?  At times like this, I lean into the possibility of Erin-as-protagonist, secure that at the very least, I’m in good company.

“Marilla, isn’t it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?”
Anne Shirley, Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery

It’s that time of the year.  The time when your impossibly put-together friends announce that they are going to accomplish a Huge Goal in 2011 and then proceed to do so with a minimum of stress, pain, or evident strife.  I usually fall on the other side of the spectrum, looking toward goals but nervous about announcing them, doing what I can and lamenting what I can’t and somehow accomplishing a bunch in the middle.

However.

It has come to my attention that I’m in need of some next steps in terms of my literary career.  (I just almost typed that phrase, moved away from the keyboard, did some busywork, returned, and typed it slowly.  Oh, dear.)  Nothing earth-shattering…it’s just time I looked at what I really want, what’s next, and how I can get from Point A to Point B.

I was talking to a friend about it last night and she said “2009 you would weep over the Facebook status updates of 2010 you.”

She’s right:  2010 was a hugely productive, accomplished, and important year, and though it whipped me down it also built me up in many unexpected ways.  The best part?  Discovering my literary tribe through the readers, bloggers, book-lovers, reviewers, and allies flung all over the world…the people to whom I owe my greatest debt.  Now I get to take all of you into consideration as I ponder my literary future, too, and that is a privilege.

Anyway, my conversation with my friend reminded me that I have other allies, too…the women who wrote my favorite books and whose lives I was privileged to study and write about in The Heroine’s Bookshelf. As I look forward, I can remember that Charlotte Brontë wrote her way through grief and took an active role in her publishing career; that Betty Smith used her writing to catapult her out of the slums of Brooklyn and as a window back in.  My literary heroines spent less time agonizing over the direction of their careers than finding work they couldn’t not do.  Armed with that work, you guys, and a whole history of female writers, I think I’m well-equipped for a new day.

Footnote:  If you haven’t seen it yet, check out The Heroine’s Bookshelf as reviewed on the front page of The Washington Post’s BookWorld.  And stay tuned…I’ve got something really fun up my sleeve for February!

Writing a chapter on ATGIB and Betty Smith was one of the most challenging tasks ahead of me when I set out to write The Heroine’s Bookshelf.  It wasn’t just that Betty Smith’s life is so poorly documented overall, it’s that ATGIB is a tome, a weighty book with tons of moving parts.  It’s hard to wrap your brain around. Part of that, I think, is because it is a book of myriad intentions. Betty wrote it after an incredibly challenging childhood and adult life, from her roles as a tormented mother, a jilted wife, an uncomfortable harborer of desperate alcoholic men, and a sometimes quite literally starving artist.  She also wrote it as an advocate for the poor, a woman who worked for a radical WPA-sponsored theater project and who had gotten her education in poverty firsthand.  So I think it makes sense that the readings and comments I’m seeing are grappling with the book as a mother/daughter tale, a family drama, and a kind of anti-poverty social document.

Katie Nolan isn’t the main character of the book per se, but she becomes its core and its focal point, the woman who’s trying to hold her family together even as she drives it apart with her own desperation.  On my latest reread, I was astonished at how much nuance and pain Betty was able to give Katie.  Sometimes the book is physically hard to read.  You see Katie, her body broken and her life prospects completely dashed, covering up the hands that she’s used to drag her family through some semblance of life in shame, and you want to curl up in the fetal position or start drinking or something.  Except that that would never, ever fly with hard Katie.

For me, Katie’s uncompromising way of looking at the world pairs perfectly with Betty Smith’s mission in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn:  to make us look at the sordid, ugly, filthy sides of life alongside the beautiful and uplifting ones and to take all sides into our final reckoning.  And with so much nuance and pain, it’s no wonder I come back to the book I first read as a Francie-aged girl every few years, scared but hungry for Betty’s unvarnished look at life.

- Betty Smith, author of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

I know now why I told you so many lies, Mother. I wanted you to notice me.

Born in 1896, Betty Smith’s coming of age took place among the chatotic, colorful Brooklyn of her best-loved novels. Acclaimed for her work as a playwright in addition to her work in books and magazines, Betty died in 1972.

For Book Clubs:

1. Betty Smith goes to great lengths to describe the meeting and courtship of Francie’s parents, Katie and Johnny Nolan. Why? How does this description inform the rest of the book?

2. What ties bind Katie and Francie? What ties alienate them?

3. Betty Smith worked for the Federal Theater Project and other WPA/New Deal agencies during the 1930s. How is her work on behalf of the working-class poor reflected in her novel?

4. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn can be characterized as a coming-of-age novel. Pinpoint a particular moment or moments at which Francie “comes of age.”

5. “How wonderful was Brooklyn, she thought…” Brooklyn is as much a character of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn as the Nolans. Discuss its role as a family member in the novel.