Desperately Seeking Madonna
Last night I dreamed that Madonna called me to chat. (That’s Madonna the rock star, not Madonna, the Virgin Mary.) I was so shocked that I could barely speak to her. She wanted to know how my novel was coming along. My dream mind was shouting, “THIS IS YOUR BIG BREAK!” But I was so stunned that I could barely describe to her what the book was about. “I need to look at my notes,” I kept telling her lamely. I was so disappointed in myself when I woke up — I had blown the pitch, as they say in Hollywood.
So now I’m attempting to do a little dream interpretation. Maybe Madonna represents the pinnacle of self-induced fame, at least as it’s defined by our culture. Her phone call to me was like a hand extending down from celebrity heaven, but I wasn’t ready. I froze, jelly headed.
I’m struggling with my novel now — I thought I’d have the first draft finished by Christmas but my writing has been flat and rushed. I need to slow down, breathe into it. Why am I doing this, I keep asking myself. Is it fame I’m really after? God, I hope not, but then why was Madonna, of all people, calling me in my dreams?
This week in the New York Times, there was an interview with writer Herta Muller, who just won the Nobel Prize in Literature. She said, “I am now nothing better and I’m nothing worse. It’s O.K., it’s nice, but it won’t change anything for me. My inner thing is writing. That I can hold on to.” That’s where I need to be — writing for writing’s sake, not for what it could do for me. Not because if I sell my book I could get a swimming pool. Maybe writing, art, any creative endeavor, is something akin to love — you can’t love a person solely for what he or she can do for you. That isn’t love. That’s just capitalism.
Posted: October 11th, 2009 under Writing.
Comments & Backsass
Comment from pam
Time October 12, 2009 at 1:07 pm
Love that the voice from above was Madonna. Okay, so I have about 100 reactions to this post.
First, from the dream interpretation angle – betting that Herta Muller is a “rock star” to you, and it was she who was calling about your book, albeit dressed up as Madonna.
Second, try not to set mental deadlines about creative stuff that doesn’t have any real deadlines (yet). Creative types struggle with head trips – impending deadlines are just another opportunity for your focus to take a detour and your flow to tighten up.
Third, from what I can tell – your impetus to write IS for what writing can do for you. But I’m not talking about fame or a pool – I’m talking about that really great frame of mind when you are exercising your craft. Even though it can be challenging/frustrating/aggravating, writing gives you that-thing-that-you-can-get-from-nowhere-else. Before anyone else has read a single word you have written, writing gives this to you. The pool is gravy.
Fourth, there’s a moment in dance class. You are 8, love dancing and in a pink leotard, but a little tired, class is getting harder, maybe you’re getting a little self conscious – and you let yourself look down the row at all of the other leotards. And in that moment of comparison, you have stopped being a dancer and become a spectator. Resist the temptation to compare – this is fraught with detours.
Fifth – you know all of this. No one ever accepted an award by saying, “It was really easy, I didn’t really have to try.” All the good stuff comes with blood, sweat and tears. Looking forward to reading it
Comment from Danny McLemore
Time October 11, 2009 at 1:58 pm
Right on sister! I’ve been there. The moment you start serving anything besides your muse, the creative flow is stifled.
I can’t wait to read your novel. Can I proof it?