“You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.” – Anne Lamott
“The pen is mightier than the sword.“ – Edward Bulwer-Lytton in 1839
Last night we had an interesting, lively dinner conversation. My son and my daughter were talking about the latest music video/film recently released by Taylor Swift. The video is mostly based on Taylor Swift’s song (with a little bit of acting), “All Too Well”, long believed to be about Taylor Swift’s brief romantic relationship with the movie star, Jake Gyllenhaal. The video/song doesn’t paint “Jake” in the best light (if it is truly about him), yet at the same time, from my mature woman’s eyes, it shows some naivety and immaturity on the girl’s (in the video) part, as well. My daughter is a Taylor Swift fan, and my son often proclaims Jake Gyllenhaal to be possibly the best actor of all time, so it made for fun dinner banter. I honestly admire both Swift and Gyllenhaal. I think that they are both incredibly talented, passionate people, and I can see why they may have fallen for each other, even for a few short months. For his part, Gyllenhaal has remained completely “mum” as far as a response to the recently released short film/video.
After going back and forth as to who is “right” in this situation, I brought up a story I read yesterday, about two writers who were in a Facebook writers’ group together. One of the writers gave her kidney to a stranger, just for the altruistic experience, and she brought this fact up, frequently to her writing group. One of the other writers in this same group, never acknowledged the fact that the other writer had given up one of her kidneys. She never said anything about it at all. Later, it turns out that the silent writer had written a “fictional” short story (that won an award) about a narcissistic woman who had given her kidney to a stranger, purely for “the glory of it all.” She wrote lines in the story, which were almost verbatim to lines that were shared in the writers’ Facebook chat, in which they both belonged. There have since been lawsuits and stalking and all sorts of brouhaha with these writers, and their friends, stemming from this unfortunate situation.
Which brings me to this thought: This is the hard line that we walk as writers and creators, correct? Our stories are our own. Our experiences are our own. We own our perspectives on what has happened in our lives. No one can tell us that our perspectives are wrong or false, because what happens in our own lives, and how we perceive these experiences and relationships, is entirely unique to each of us. Jake Gyllenhaal could produce a video and a song about his relationship with Taylor Swift, and it might look entirely different than what Taylor portrayed, and neither one of them is wrong.
As a writer, I understand the power that I wield with my pen. It’s a responsibility that I don’t take lightly. I’m good with words. I can communicate my perspectives in a way that often resonates with people. I constantly weigh how much I share about my life, in written form, on this blog and in other pieces that I write. My relationships with my loved ones are of utmost importance to me. I want to honor my loved ones’ privacy and feelings, as well as I can, while still honoring myself authentically, and honing my craft. It isn’t easy. I have erred in being an over-sharer, and I have erred in keeping too silent. I constantly worry that people whom I am most intimate with, will become too guarded with me, for fears of becoming my next blog post. And yet, writing is an outpouring of one’s creative soul. As a writer, your readers can feel when you are hiding and holding back, especially when they have read enough of “your stuff” to know your essence and your writing style. Honestly, in weighing in on all of this, I have even considered when and if I should destroy all of my private journals. If I am gone, all that is left, is what the people who are reading my journals, perceive of what I wrote. The people who would be reading my journals, would be the people whom I am closest to in my life. When I am gone, all that I want left from any of my important relationships, is the deep knowing that I love “my people” beyond measure, and I always will. That is all that matters to me. My greatest joy in writing, is the creative act of writing itself. Everything that I write, I want whittled down to the only end result that matters. Love. I love to write. I love “my people.” I love trying to find meaning in my life through creating written words that are interesting to read and mostly, for me to write. That is it. That is all she meant. That’s all she wrote.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Great topic today. Love the quote from Anne Lamott. I subscribe to her point of view. If you don’t want to be portrayed as a jerk, don’t act like one. That’s a chance you take when you are in a relationship with a writer…
Here’s the link to “my” current book. I ghostwrote it for the “author”. My name isn’t on this, but if you take the time to read any portion of it, you’ll see my signature narrative style all over it! Especially in the chapter about periods. That’s my actual (horrifying) experience, right there in black and white for the world to read. Of course, they will associate it with another person because my name isn’t on this cover, but nonetheless, it’s my personal story.
https://www.amazon.com/Changes-Me-During-Puberty-Development-ebook/dp/B09LRKNZ9N/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=maatman&qid=1637250498&s=digital-text&sr=1-1
If you have Kindle Unlimited you can download this for free. Please share the link with anyone you know with adolescent daughters (or granddaughters). Despite its awkward topic, this is a pretty entertaining read!
I just downloaded it to my Kindle, Kelly. I’m psyched to read it. I am impressed. I know you are a mother of a son, but we never forget those early days of our own burgeoning womanhood, right? 😉
Great post, Kelly. I got rid of most of my journals, ripped pages out of others so I could keep the rest. My journals are for processing my life. I don’t have a therapist. I use journals. There are things in them that wouldn’t bring joy to people who might read them after I’m gone. Like you, I only want my people to know how much I love them. My mother never got rid of her journals, so I kept them…for a while. She, too, used her journals as therapy. Let’s just say, they didn’t bring me joy knowing how dissatisfied she was with parts of her life. I tossed those journals, too.
Good job tossing those journals, Gail. Just keep the love. That’s all that counts. <3