It is January 1st, and as I sit in my kitchen writing this, there is a strong wind outside. The bird feeders sway, unsynchronized; leaves I thought were long gone fly around the deck; a plastic saucer lacking a plant lifts briefly into the air before crashing into the glass; and my cat stares warily out the window.
I generally have a forward-looking spirit, but that was dampened in 2018. In 2018, I felt compelled toward stillness — to watch, like my cat, eyeing the chaos outside of the window. Because of that, I’ve thought a lot about chaos — how it has to destroy, sometimes, before it can be an agent of progress and even order. An easy example: Consider the way you have to make a mess before progress can be made in renovating a room or even organizing a closet.
Now consider how we humans naturally resist progress/chaos, because it requires mental and/or physical effort, in favor of comforts like downy things to curl up with, and full bellies, and stillness on the housebound side of the window. Consider how easy it can be to be lulled into a life that doesn’t so much seek change as it seeks to prevent it.
A resistance to change and chaos may not be a bad thing for some people, but I would argue it isn’t the road you’ve chosen, if you’ve chosen to be a novelist. Because you, my writer friend, need chaos to produce your work.
You need the chaos of ideas.
You need a mess of words on the page, and sometimes all over your desk, several tables, and the floor.
You need to be frustrated over that character / plot point / predictable ending, because that discomfiting chaos is what can and will inspire new solutions as you seek a more satisfying relief —
and test your personal limits,
and the breadth of your creativity,
and meet goals,
and imbue your life with a sense of purpose.
But it’s a cycle that demands you step outside of your safe place and twist in the wind.
For You
- “Pursue your contentment relentlessly with all your energy & focus,” a friend of mine wrote just this morning. (Thanks, David!) Consider the difference between contentment and comfort. What would it take to make you feel professionally content?
- Is there a barrier between you and your goals? What is that, and how can you get beyond it?
- Can you see how temporary chaos can lead to big gains?
- How can you make your contentment a more active venture, and make it a priority in 2019?
- If you’re creatively stagnant, what can you shatter in your manuscript that might ultimately lead to a better relief?
For Your Characters
- How do your characters create and/or resist chaos?
- How do your characters work against their own contentment?
- How might chaos push your characters beyond their comfort zones and to make discoveries about themselves, for good or ill?
- How might chaos become an ally for your characters’ contentment?
- How might your protagonist become the wind of change for someone or something bigger than themselves?
I wish you all forward-looking spirits, progress and chaos that lead to epiphanies, and much personal and professional fulfillment in 2019. Happy New Year, friends. Write on.
About Therese Walsh
Therese Walsh co-founded WU in 2006 and is the site's editorial director. She was the architect and 1st editor of WU's only book, Author in Progress, and orchestrates the WU UnConference. Her second novel, The Moon Sisters, was named one of the best books of the year by Library Journal; and her debut, The Last Will of Moira Leahy was a Target Breakout Book. Sign up for her newsletter to be among the first to learn about her new projects (or follow her on BookBub). Learn more on her website.
Carol Dougherty says
January 1, 2019 at 8:57 pmThanks, Therese. And thanks for planning another UnConference next fall.
As you say, it has been a remarkable year in so many ways, not all (or even many of them) pleasant. This blog and the many contributors and commenters have provided one of the consistent sources of nourishment in the past year.
No idea how the chaos and the contentment will play with and against each other in the coming year. All I know is that I look forward to seeing how it all plays out.
Have a great New Year!
Alicia Butcher Ehrhardt says
January 1, 2019 at 9:23 pmHad the temporary chaos of ripping up a complete life in NJ with a suburban home to move to a California retirement community – where supposedly I’ll have more time to write.
‘Temporary’ can be a long time.
I’m hoping for the big gains, but the disruption’s magnitude caught me by surprise.
And since it happened at a very tricky place at the end of the first quarter of the second book in a trilogy (structurally, a place of great change), the life disruption has been magnified by a need to get the writing transition right.
I will be glad when this piece is over.
Happy New Year!
CoolWriter says
January 2, 2019 at 8:34 amEach has its own goals. Sometimes, some of these goals are so sublime, so saturated with warmth and dedication, that we want to do everything possible and impossible for the goal to be achieved. Fear leaves when you specify it. After visualizing the fear, burn the picture in an imaginary fire and forth. Fear will go away. It wants to do something – and quickly.
Vaughn Roycroft says
January 2, 2019 at 10:32 amHey T – Ha, I’ve been thinking about chaos, too. As in, my wife’s entire family just left after their annual whirlwind Christmas at our house. We had 18 this year, even a couple from as far away as Denver. For three days, the chaos swirled. I learned a long time ago that I like watching it all from afar: the knock-down-drag-out arguments, the wrapping paper flying, the muddy-paw dogs romping. etc (I’m the guy sitting on the stairs in the corner silently sipping from a snifter).
This year, my eldest nephew brought his fiance for her first chaotic Christmas. And I could see my old self in her – eyes wide, wondering how she’ll navigate this for every family get-together on her future husband’s side for… like, forever. Not to mention her impending wedding!
What watching the fiance reminded me of is that chaos does indeed pass. Muddy paw prints can be mopped, shredded paper picked up, and – most importantly – arguments are usually cathartic releases in one way or another, and always turn into hugs by the farewell hour.
I think being the silent observer of this huge, boisterous Irish clan for lo, these thirty-five years, has given me an edge in my fiction. I like things tidy, orderly. But I know better because of the Donnellys that things really can’t, and honestly, shouldn’t always be tidy. My characters certainly aren’t. A few of them would give the Irish Christmas chaos a run for the money.
When I read this yesterday, I perfectly pictured you, and the cat, in the kitchen, watching the windy New Year’s Day, and it added to the soothing feeling I already had from putting the house back in order. You really enhanced my settling in for a day of reflection. Thanks for being there, T – always generous with your wisdom. Here’s to sharing a more forward-looking spirit in the days and months to come.
Bernadette Phipps-Lincke says
January 3, 2019 at 9:28 pmYou must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star–Nietzsche
Love your post, T.
Happy New Year. xo
Barbara Morrison says
January 6, 2019 at 8:55 amYour post comes at the right time for me, Therese, and your questions are tremendously helpful, especially the one about what you might have to shatter in your WIP.
I’ve been thinking a lot about these issues lately, mostly using the metaphor of tearing my (figurative) house down and rebuilding it. A book I’m finding helpful is The Heart Aroused, by poet David Whyte, based on his work using poetry to bring out creativity in large corporations.
One doesn’t have to be a corporate drone to benefit from his ideas (and marvelous prose). While reading I keep recognising the barriers I set for myself. One of the metaphors he uses is fire: destructive but cleansing, warming our house or burning it down.
I hope your new year is filled with creative chaos and its contentments.