Over the years, I have been told (thankfully, in warm tones) that I am cheeky or have “chutzpah.” From what I understand, or maybe what I want to believe, cheekiness or chutzpah is more of a degree measurement, not necessarily good or bad by itself. Either means you are relatively unabashed in how you conduct yourself, which, of course, can be great when it allows you to do the right thing, even in the face of adversity, and simply terrible when it enables you to do something awful despite societal needs.
At any rate, where does this so-called nerve being somewhat described come from? Did it come from being the only freckle-faced, red-haired kid in most of the classes I was ever in—giving up and leaning into my natural conspicuousness? (Probably.) Did it come from my home environment? (Likely.) Did it come from moving frequently and having to (but also getting to) start “over” fully and often? (Definitely.)
Wherever it was then, though, now I’m a rounder, softer, less-red-haired lady who has built up her own “mobile home” with her partner and kids. So, if I have chutzpah when it comes to what I choose to do and how I choose to do it, it’s not because of external forces any longer—it’s simply because I feel confident in my creative ability. And it’s not because I woke up one day that way. It’s because I consciously practiced, practiced, practiced at being a creative problem-solver for as long as I can remember.
“The most important tool the artist fashions through constant practice is the faith in his ability to produce miracles when they are needed.” —Mark Rothko
I hear (read, see) creators often lament their lack of confidence in their writing, and I hear them. I really do.
While I’ve been lucky enough to have worked in “creative problem solving” for quite a while now, writing for children was a new challenge with near-impossible odds when I first set out. What on Earth was I thinking, really?
What has turned the tide for me each time I have been in WAY over my head are my go-to friends: why, how, who, and what. (I first honed my writing chops through journalism; what can I say? Notice I didn’t include “when” because the answer is always now—or worse…yesterday—and I didn’t include “where” because I always start with the library or tHe InTeRwEbZ.)
Here’s how I use “why, how, who, and what” to gain “maybe even approaching chutzpah levels” of confidence.
“WHY do I (emotionally) need to do this?”
This is the most crucial question, honestly. Sometimes, you don’t, not really—but when you truly do, the answer becomes what drives you. So, why did I need to become a children’s writer? Because I finally took my blinders off.
“HOW can I (eventually) master this new skill?”
My answer: read extensively (including craft books); write extensively; revise extensively.
“WHO can I learn from?”
“WHAT else can I do to improve my chances of success?”
My answer: Besides all the “HOW” stuff, giving and receiving oodles of critique, being myself, letting myself enjoy the journey, getting a smartypants agent I gel with, and otherwise working my dump truck off.
Notice how these questions are all questions addressed to me. I’m not saying these should be your questions—or, even if they were—YOUR answers!
But breaking the “getting into children’s literature” scary deep waters down into specific, moveable buckets helped me carry a lot of water for a long time. And these fundamental questions were how I first organized the buckets I eventually would need to fill. (SO MANY BUCKETS.) And, not to beat a metaphor to death, but…do you know what successfully carrying a ton of buckets does?
Doing the work brings real confidence—earned confidence. Derring-do. Chutzpah. Moxie. Whatever they may call it, when others note it, they will need a special word for it—because it’s not the same-old, same-old they see every day.
Your “taking it as a high compliment” friend,
Elayne
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