The claims set forth in Robert McGuire’s recent post on The Millions present a way of thinking about the creative (and healing) process that really gets my goat. McGuire challenges the commonly held belief that the writing/creative process provides catharsis and healing and instead asserts that “writing is a process of degrading one’s emotional state.” He cites his experience of writing his first novel as an example of the dangers of emotional exploration in the name of art and clings to his shrink’s “fake it till you make it” cognitive theory mantra as a way to illustrate and prove his bold thesis statement. While I can appreciate McGuire’s boldness and honesty, I take umbrage with his thesis. And my thesis is more than ready to duke it out: Writing is a process of being present with one’s emotional state, and part of being a healthy professional is knowing: a) where to impose boundaries; and b) when to ask for help.
McGuire begins by sharing that in the two years since he began working on his first novel he has noticed “a certain decline in the indicators of good mental health.” He later explains that since writing is the process of getting into the minds of his characters, the process “involves a lot of sitting around wondering what it would be like to be disappointed with humanity, unable to take a joke or otherwise afflicted by the modernist tradition.” (Gee, get me on the waiting list for THAT book.) He argues that a writer can’t help but be affected by the mental/emotional states of his/her characters and that since the characters carry inside of them (to paraphrase Aristotle’s Poetics) the seeds of their own destruction, “writers become their own anti-therapists, using their powers for evil.”
First of all, I shall begin by addressing McGuire’s use of Aristotle’s Poetics. After I read the article, I dug out my own copy and had a look-see. Yes, Aristotle says that characters carry around the seeds of their own destruction…but did you know that Aristotle also said that “there is such a thing as a good woman and a good slave, even though one of these is perhaps deficient and the other generally speaking inferior”? Wow. Thanks, Aristotle. But I did also find some helpful gems…such as “[the characters] must be better people than we are, or worse, or of the same sort,” and “the art of poetry belongs to people who are naturally gifted or mad; of these, the former are adaptable, and the latter are not in their right mind.”
Naturally gifted or mad. Hm. Yes, delving into the minds of fictitious, sometimes very troubled characters without getting pulled inside yourself does require a special gift. And if you don’t have that gift, I could see how it could drive you mad. Or cause “a certain decline in the indicators of good mental health.” So maybe I just solved McGuire’s problem for him. Ouch.
His argument assumes that anytime a writer needs to get into the mind of a character they must absorb that character’s state – not true if you are a skilled actor and/or writer. In my training as an actor, I have learned ways to connect authentically to a character without threatening my own mental and emotional health. It’s called being a fucking professional.
But the aspect of McGuire’s article that upset me the most was the “fake it till you make it” approach to writing and healing. I could not think of a more horrible way to approach your life and/or a creative process. “Fake it until you make it” is terrible advice….be present with what is going on with you rather than try to conjure up a false emotional state, and then proceed from that honest, present place. Marry imagination and creativity to that present place. Be in your body, be with your pain/heartache/joy/sadness/etc and let it inform your work rather than the other way around (i.e. allowing the emotional roller coaster of your characters to dictate your emotional state).
When I write I find that I have to personally be one step ahead of my characters. I have to transcend and heal whatever challenges/problems they are facing first in my own life (whether metaphorically or literally) before I feel comfortable writing it into their lives. As such, my decision to start writing a couple of years ago also served as the impetus for profound personal growth in my own life. I sought out help from others who could assist me in this journey so that I would not experience a “decline in the indicators of good mental health.” I started exploring ways to remain present in my own life so that I could use it in my work as a writer.
I wish Robert McGuire the best of luck with his journey, but I’m so glad I am on a different path.
