The "A" Word

INGRID THOFT

I was recently searching for a birthday card for my college best friend and one of my sisters.  I found one I thought would work for both (hope you’re not reading this, Kirsten!) and it features card producers’ favorite topic: aging.

A huge percentage of birthday cards focus on aging and the physical failures that come with it, but outside of the card aisle and the beauty aisle, there doesn’t seem to be much discussion about a process we will all experience (hopefully).

We all know that we’ll age and die eventually, but I’ve found over the past couple of years that knowing and knowing are two different things.  My own back surgery and chronic back issues, and the recent major surgery of a loved one, has forced aging to the forefront of my brain.  There’s no shortage of advice for staying and looking young, but what about best practices for accepting the aging process?

A friend suggested I read “Being Mortal” by Atul Gawande, M.D., a book that takes an unfiltered look at aging.  According to Gawande, the average life expectancy during the Roman Empire was thirty-years-old, a far cry from the 81.6 years now predicted for American women by the World Health Organization. Gawande argues that the medical community fails elderly patients because doctors are trained to fix problems, and there’s no fix for aging.  Instead, he thinks that the medical community, and the rest of us, should reframe aging as a natural process to be managed, not ignored or discounted.

In our age- and appearance-obsessed society, who do we look to for lessons in aging?

Before her death in 2014, Maya Angelou was a stellar example of someone embracing aging and celebrating the wisdom that comes with a long life.  She was a woman who seemed to get better with age!

Helen Mirren seems to embrace her current age and continue to blaze her own trail, whether in the roles she plays or her choice to rock a bikini at aged sixty-two.

And the queen of aging well? That would be the Queen, herself, in my estimation.   Queen Elizabeth II is 91-years-old and has held a most demanding job for 65 years.  Yes, she has lots of help (someone has to shop for those matching hats and outfits,) but she maintains a tough schedule and has to be “on” more than most people.

So, what are your thoughts on aging? How do you deal with the inevitable? Who do you think is aging well?

Are We Ever REAL Writers?

DEB: The next few weeks we'll be celebrating "Awards Month" here on Jungle Red, with special attention to the Agathas and the Edgars. Julia Spencer-Fleming will be interviewing the Agatha Best First Novel nominees over the next two weeks, and Hallie Ephron will be filling us in on juicy tidbits from the Edgars.

AND--drum roll here!!--our very own Hank Phillipi Ryan's Drive Time is an Agatha nominee for Best Novel. I'll be talking to Hank about Drive Time this Thursday, so stay tuned.

AND--cymbals this time--this Tuesday, Jungle Red's Julia Spencer-Fleming and Rosemary Harris both have new books out, One Was a Soldier from Julia and Slugfest from Ro. I'm expecting both in my mailbox on Tuesday morning--Hope you are, too!

But with all the well-deserved acclaim accorded our authors and the other nominees this months, I've kept thinking about something Maya Angelou said a good many years ago--"Each time I write a book, every time I face that yellow pad, the challenge is so great. I have written eleven books, but each time I think, 'Uh, oh, they're going to find out now. I've run a game on everybody and they're going to find me out.'"

And I wondered--do any of us, no matter how many awards or nominations or any other kind of public acclaim we receive, ever feel like "real" writers?

I know I don't. Once upon a time I thought that once you had written "a" book, writing another would surely be easy. Ha. I have written a good few books since those naive days, and I've discovered that, in fact, it never gets easier. And while for the most part I like the books I've written, I always wonder if I'll be able to pull off the next one, or if, like Maya Angelou, I'll be "found out."

Then I realized that the only time I ever feel like a "real writer" is when I'm actually writing, when I'm in the "zone" and the words are pouring out faster than I can type them. But when that's happening, whether or not I'm a "real writer" is the last thing I think about.

So while we LOVE awards and recognition--and we hope they encourage lots and lots of people to buy our books--they don't fundamentally change our job. It's still the writer and the blank page, and as Stefanie Pintoff so aptly quoted SJ Rozan last week, Chop Wood/Carry Water.
How about you, Jungle Reds? Have awards changed how you feel about writing or about yourself as a writer?

ROBERTA/LUCY: (Trying to get used to the new name:)...Deb, you're right, awards don't do a thing when you're sitting in front of the screen or the notebook.

Although anything that boosts a writer's confidence a little helps grease the cogs, don't you think?

Writing is very hard. I find first drafts particularly so--lots of voices suggesting that the story or the way I've written it are ridiculous! I think the one thing we learn as we go along is to set the voices aside and patiently remind ourselves that it probably isn't as bad as we thought. And even if it is, it can be fixed!

I loved the chop wood/carry water reference too. SJ is such a smart lady!

JAN: It seems to me that most writers are always looking for ways to minimize their achievements, so awards and reviews help us feel legitimate. But I think the thing that helps me write best when I'm staring at the screen to is giving myself license to write poorly -- knowing full well, correcting writing is where the fun is.

RHYS: Like many writers I am completely fragile about what I'm writing. As I write each book I go through a few flashing highs of "this is brilliant" to many despairing lows of "this is rubbish. Nobody will like it. My sales will plummet and I'll never get another contract."

So I keep my awards on a shelf halfway down the stairs. I have to pass it every time I come up from my office to the kitchen for more coffee/cookies etc. And it's a great reminder and morale booster that I can write books that people like.

ROSEMARY: I do have my awards certificates framed - one is next to a plastic plug-in angel and the other is....somewhere, so they definitely mean something to me. But I have to say it was the comment of a longtime publishing executive who actually used the words "you're a real writer" that made me feel like one.

Yes, the first box of books is thrilling and passing by a shop window that has some of my titles on display is wonderful, but it was that gentleman's remark that did the trick because he had worked with so many legendary writers.

HANK: Heck yes, it matters to me. Oh, I'm too..something. My parents were always saying things like-you got an A-? How come you didn't get an A? But the wonderful outcome of that is that I try my best ALL the time, in whatever I do. And writing is the most challenging. SO to have the pats on the back from my peers, and from readers? Gee. It honestly brings tears to my eyes.

JULIA: Jan, I agree with you; giving myself permission to write crap is sometimes the only thing that frees me the paralyzing fear of...well, writing crap.

Also, like Rhys, I see-saw wildly throughout the process of completing the book - except my "nobody will like it" boogyman is "therefore, I'll have to go back to being a LAWYER!!" So no, sadly, winning or being nominated for awards does jack-all for the actual process of writing.

However, it is a sweet thing to be appreciated, whether that comes in the form of a teapot or a piece of paper or a reader who drove two hours to come to your library talk. And ultimately, I think that's what drives us, don't you? Having someone say, "I loved your story?" I mean, if there's one thing we can all agree on, it's that no one pursues a writing career for the money!

DEB: I'm with Jan and Julia on the permission to write crap. My daily motto is Nora Roberts's "Bad pages are better than no pages." It's enormously liberating to give yourself permission not to be perfect. And what's amazing is that the crap pages usually--with a good bit of work--turn out to be not so bad after all.

As for being REAL writers, I have a suspicion that writers are a bit like the Velveteen Rabbit--we only become real when we're read.

So here's to reading, and to adding many, many fabulous books to our "To Read" stacks from the next few weeks' blogs!