Does your writing pass the 3 tests of métier?

For me, writing is the only thing that passes the three tests of métier: (1) when I’m doing it, I don’t feel that I should be doing something else instead; (2) it produces a sense of accomplishment and, once in a while, pride; and (3) it’s frightening. — Gloria Steinem

What does writing mean for you?

I was looking for my old organic chemistry textbook the other day and instead found a book I vaguely recall telling myself I would never look at again once I finished Technical Writing. The book is called Writing with Style by John R. Trimble and it’s filled with academic conversations about writing that I found only somewhat interesting during my junior year as an English major.

The above quote was on the first page I turned to and, after reading it for a third time, I found myself asking two questions. The first was: What does métier mean?  The second was: How can I add it to a casual conversation this week?

So I did what every logophile does when she stumbles across a new word. I looked it up.

According to Merriam-Webster, métier means 1) Vocation, trade. 2) An area of activity in which one excels: forte.

Looking beyond the common definition, I discovered it’s an old French word that is derived from the vulgar Latin “misterium,” an alteration of the Latin “ministerium” which means work or ministry.

All thoughts of sounding sophisticated (and even more odd) at my next public gathering where immediately cast aside. That one word had just reminded me of three things about writing. Three things I used to know, but had somehow lost sight of in the last few months.

Three Definitions of Writing

1) Writing is a vocation, a trade. We hear this all the time, but for so many of us it’s still just a hobby. As a result it is often set aside for something “more important” or is overshadowed by whatever is captivating our attention most at a given time. The people who really excel are the ones who stay focused.

2) Writing is an activity, which by definition requires action. It’s also a strength. Writing is a difficult skill to truly master. It’s something a lot of people wish they could do but, like learning to play the violin is something few ever take the time to really perfect. Those who know how to write and effectively communicate a message are blessed. It’s a shame and a waste to ignore that gift.

3) Writing is a ministry. People read because they’re looking for something to speak to them. Words encourage in moments of doubt, strengthen in times of weakness, and bring passion to seasons of apathy. Words open up new avenues of thought, take us to places we can’t visit ourselves, and allow us to understand the world through the eyes of a stranger.

Does my writing pass the test?

As I sit here I have to ask myself if writing, for me, passes the three tests of métier. How often does it fully captivate my attention these days? Do I feel accomplished when I finish a project, and do I ever feel proud of that work? There’s no doubt that it’s frightening. And I think that right there is what’s hanging me up right now.

So now I have one more question I need to find the answer to. What am I afraid of? Because, for me, it’s time to face that fear.

The Quandary of the Writer

It’s probably safe to say at some point every writer has thrown hands to air and moaned, “Why would anyone ever want to hear what I have to say?”

Whether it’s after a particularly difficult day of writing in which the internal editor vetoes every sentence or it’s the result of receiving another “pass” on a project, there will just be those days when we wonder why we even bother.

A dear friend of mine faced one such moment during a difficult critique session. Afterwards one of the members of the group stated that she would never purchase a book dealing with the written subject. What made it even harder to hear was that the critiqued piece dealt with something the writer had difficulty facing herself in the first place.

Questioning our purpose isn’t limited to just writers. The Old Testament prophet Jeremiah is dubbed the weeping prophet for a reason. There was little that happened during his lifetime to rejoice over. He spoke the words he was called to speak and was ignored, rebuked, and rejected by his people. In a fit of despair he even accused the Lord of trapping him in an impossible position.

He lamented, “…if I say, “I will not mention his word or speak anymore in his name,” his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in, indeed, I cannot. (Jer. 20:9 NIV)

As writers we all face moments in which we have to answer for ourselves if our calling is worth the heartache and pain.

It’s one thing to write for entertainment; however, the words that ultimately hold the most lasting value are those which hold up a mirror and cause us to look at uncomfortable things about ourselves and the world in which we live.

Words that reveal a truth we may not wish to see.

As a result, there will always be someone who, intentionally or not, will cut you down. There will always be moments we look at our work in progress and say “I cannot write about this. It’s too hard.” 

This is especially true when writing about something that’s controversial or sensitive in nature.

In speaking with my friend we both learned that sometimes the question we ought to be asking is not “Who would want to hear what I have to say?” but rather, “Am I willing to listen to what is being spoken to me?”

Sometimes the very thing we write is meant for our personal growth and healing. When that process ends up helping someone else it’s just an added bonus.

In the end it may not matter if what we write goes on to be published to raving acclaim. Sometimes all that matters is that we finish what we start. And finish it well.

The Professor and the Equation

Image Courtesy of ThinkGeek.com

I had to take a calculus class my sophomore year of college. At the time I was a pre-med major with aspirations of living in a mud hut while saving children’s lives; a noble goal but ultimately not the correct life path for me. Math has never been my strong suit. In school, I could never get past letters being mixed with numbers in algebraic equations. In my mind, X is a letter, not a space holder, and A + B – C holds no numerical value so how can it equal 15?

So there I was, two-thirds of the country away from home, going to class every day trying to bail my sinking grade out with a thimble of understanding when one day the professor didn’t show. Five minutes passed. Ten minutes. Fifteen. At this point about half of the class got up and walked out, thrilled with the prospect of a free afternoon. The only ones who stayed were the brainiacs…and me. Twenty minutes. A few more students who didn’t need to worry about passing with anything less than a 95 slipped out the door, but instead of whooping about playing Frisbee golf, they were planning on filing a report. It was at that point I slipped my own two-hundred-dollar textbook into my thirty-dollar backpack. I no sooner zipped it closed and stood with the remaining four or five students when who should coming running through the door short of breath, loose-tied, disheveled-haired, and red-faced but the professor.

The door slammed closed behind him as he stretched his arms to block our panicked escape. “Nobody move! I’m so sorry I’m late. I got so wrapped up in this equation I’ve been working on I completely lost track of time! I’m giving you all an A for the day for waiting. Now let’s make the most of these last twenty minutes.”

Apart from being relieved about getting a few badly needed extra points, it baffled me how someone could be so engrossed in a math problem he could forget about his class. And then this week came along. Tuesday came and went without me updating my blog, then Wednesday…it’s now Thursday and I realized I’ve been so wrapped up in a new project of my own I’d completely forgotten about you!

I’ve come to realize over the course of the past eight years, it doesn’t matter if its writing, playing music, saving lives, or even solving complex math equations — if you’re truly passionate about something, you’re going to lose all track of time at some point. I loved working as a volunteer in the Emergency Room. I enjoyed helping others and shadowing the doctors as they listened to the patient and tried to determine exactly what was wrong and how to best treat the illness or injury. But looking back, I was never as passionate about medicine as I have become about writing. I have never felt more at home with myself as I do with a pen in my hand and words on a page. And with one other exception, it’s rare that I’ve felt as passionate about a specific project as I do about the one I’m working on right now. A project I hope to share with you very soon.

What are you passionate about when it comes to writing? Do you thrill at the thought of creating a brand new world? Do you forget about the roast in the oven while carefully crafting a devotional article? Or do you tend to seek the truth through non-fiction? Whatever it is, I hope that like my professor, you throw yourself so fully into your writing that everything else is forgotten for a few extra minutes today. And then again tomorrow.

Oh, and by the way, my professor managed to solve that equation by the end of the semester and I walked out of that class with the only C I’ve ever been proud of despite bombing the final, and largely due to the kindness of a man who saw me diligently struggling through the concepts and continually asking for help from him and a couple of other classmates.

The Honest Writer

“Hey, Jen! How are you doing?”

Would it be okay to say I’m overwhelmed, exhausted, lonely, and ready to cry?

“Pretty good. Just taking it a day at a time. You?”

It’s easy to fudge the truth when you know the person asking the question is doing so more out of courtesy than curiosity; in their mind they’ve already moved on to the next item on their to-do list. As writers, however, we don’t have that luxury. Our readers are investing one of their most precious commodities in us — time. When they read our words a kinship is formed that is like a real relationship, and when we take advantage of that we don’t just disappoint them, we break their trust in us. It’s no wonder there’s so much outrage when it’s revealed that a best-selling author has fabricated his memoir or lifted a large section of her book from another writer and claimed it as her own.

When I started this blog, the goal was to create a place to encourage other writers, and I’ve found it’s quite easy to put a big smile on a bad day and act as if all is well in my little world. Though there is nothing wrong with looking for the silver lining (in fact, I encourage it!), if I’m not honest with myself how can I be honest in my writing? Now I’m not advocating posting dark, depressing odes in a blog or moaning in status updates, some things are better left unsaid in public, but there is an ancient saying that has been one of my mottos since college: Homo sum. Humani ni a me allenum puto!

I am human. Nothing human can be alien to me. It was written by a slave centuries ago, but it’s as true today as it was then. We’re human. We experience the same emotions, we live through similar experiences.  Writers have good days and bad days the same as everyone else on this swirling dust mote. If I’m fake in my writing, it’s eventually going to catch up to me, and my readers being as smart as they are will call me (or in the case of my fiction, my character’s) bluff.

So, yes, lately it seems I have a little more on my plate than I can handle at times and there are moments I feel like I’m going to buckle under the pressure, but it’s teaching me to see things a bit differently. As I was driving home from work last night I started thinking about what is truly important to me; what it is I want to spend my time doing, and when it’s more than okay to say that dreaded little word “NO.”

I love writing. It’s something I want to spend the rest of my life doing in some form or another. I enjoy updating this blog as often as possible. I hope to have my book published someday soon, and after that, another. I love working in Youth Ministries. It’s something that fuels, challenges, and stretches me as an individual. But I don’t need to be a part of another committee or take on that extra editing project. The truth is, the more I weigh myself down with the “extra” stuff, the less time I have to enjoy the things that make me smile.

A wise friend recently told me that, while I’m doing better at it then days past, I need to stop trying to please everyone and start enjoying the life I want for myself. And that, friends, is exactly what I plan to do.

How about you? Do you ever feel like you take on too much and then feel guilty for putting your writing on the back burner (or worse, for making it your top priority)? What have you done, or are in the process of doing, to change that? I’d love to hear your thoughts. –Jen