I keep trying to remind myself of this as a writer. Just because nothing has caught on yet doesn't make me a failure- not creating at all would make me a failure. Until then, I am just a success in the making, working toward that goal of connecting with my audience.
I used to believe family was an obstacle to art but I’ve revised thus. I have seen too many women with several kids and pregnant with more still drawing and making art. They just cut out other distractions. Health issues seems to be a more forceful obstacle.
Man, I think an artist's work typically improves as they age. We put too high a premium on youth. I think because most of us wish we'd started or hit sooner. Lot of young artists flame out too.
My success will come when it’s ready to. I gave up feeling my age and just enjoy the process. Thank you Colleen for such a beautiful & important message. 🙏
I always enjoy your perspectives and shared experiences, Colleen. This one hits close to home, as (after years of sending my writing out & no takers) I decided to self publish at the age of 40 in 2005. With seven novels, four graphic novels, two non-fiction books, and more stories since then, I’ve found life’s second act pretty rewarding. Not so much financially, but in terms of the reception of the work & encouragement of peers and fans. Just paneled at Balticon for the tenth year or so (COVID throws my count off a little…) this weekend. This was a nice sort of affirmation to read this morning — thank you!
Nice to hear this point of view, as I near 60 and start my more creative life after decades as a school teacher I appreciate the idea that my most creative years may be ahead of me.
Jack Kirby was well into his third decade as a comics professional when he had his "blitzkrieg " at Marvel. Then almost a decade later he went to DC and was a creation machine. It's never too late to create.
As i make up stories for my granddaughter at her bedtime, i think that maybe i should be writing and illustrating some of them before memory fades.
That gives a new perspective to my own experiences in life. When I was growing up, my parents nurtured my interests in many ways. I liked to dance a lot when I was very young, so at age five, they signed me up for ballet classes -- I did want to be a ballerina. I had two years of ballet classes. But that desire, that "gift" got stunted at the end of the first ballet class. The instructor was talking with my parents while I was standing beside them, but out of their eye levels. The instructor indicated that I had talent, but "she will never be a ballerina, because she is going to be too tall." I don't think they realized I was listening too. I still loved ballet and dancing, but I didn't work at it because that five-year-old thought the goal was impossible for me.
Music came easily to me: singing, playing instruments, understanding music instinctively. But it was easy for me, so I don't think I valued the activity enough to work really hard at it. (I was content with First Chair Second Violin. I had no ambition to be a soloist.)
Even doing artwork never seemed like work. It might have been because I was always drawing from an early age that I developed skills intuitively. But I was able to achieve results that impressed people with what I considered to be little serious effort. So, I never really applied myself to really learning the craft: I can fake good anatomy, but I haven't really studied drawing it in detail; I can do perspective drawings freehand, but I never pushed my internal vision, and other similar lapses in "work". These days I do occasional artwork to please myself, and that's almost the only "work" I do in the visual arts.
But writing ... THAT I had to work at. I loved listening to stories. I love the effects that can be achieved in putting words together, of leading readers along a path of my own devising. But I had to actually work at learning to do it well. I went through my period of purple prose. I went through a period of writing cardboard characters. I wrote painfully labored pieces of poetry. I studied storytelling, in the English language. I studied how thoughts were shaped in other languages (Latin, Anglo-Saxon, Old Irish, a year of Biblical Greek, high school French) -- I wasn't interested in speaking those languages or writing them, but rather how ideas were shaped by the way the language worked. All in all, I really worked at learning how to be a good writer.
The result is that I have written a few good things. Have I gotten paid serious money for my writing? Well, a little bit yes. But everything that you say about having to pay for life, Colleen, has been true of my experience. I like to believe that I have finally reached the point where paying for the basics of life can just be met, allowing me the time to really, at long last, go whole hog in writing up a storm (to mix metaphors), letting all my still-untold stories take shape in words and fly out into the world. Or, to put it briefly, work at my writing.
Thanks for your insights! You always bring a clear perspective to the creative life!
Colleen’s assertion also struck me, Sarah. I peaked as an artist when I was younger. But I was only a copycat with no style of my own. One day I would draw like George Pérez. The next, Berkeley Breathed. I was an artistic chameleon. That was over 30 years ago and I haven’t picked up a pencil since.
I started returning to the drawing board for my as-yet-to-release publication. I’ve been dissatisfied that I have to learn to draw, again. Scratch that—I find myself again, learning to draw, for the first time.
I keep trying to remind myself of this as a writer. Just because nothing has caught on yet doesn't make me a failure- not creating at all would make me a failure. Until then, I am just a success in the making, working toward that goal of connecting with my audience.
I used to believe family was an obstacle to art but I’ve revised thus. I have seen too many women with several kids and pregnant with more still drawing and making art. They just cut out other distractions. Health issues seems to be a more forceful obstacle.
Stephen Fabian best known for his black-and-white fantasy, horror and science fiction art, became a professional artist at age 54!!!!!
Man, I think an artist's work typically improves as they age. We put too high a premium on youth. I think because most of us wish we'd started or hit sooner. Lot of young artists flame out too.
Thank you for this. As an artist nearing 50, it is nice to remember that a late start is not the obstacle it may appear to be.
Chip Zdarsky did in fact admit that his career was possible because of his wife’s income.
My success will come when it’s ready to. I gave up feeling my age and just enjoy the process. Thank you Colleen for such a beautiful & important message. 🙏
I always enjoy your perspectives and shared experiences, Colleen. This one hits close to home, as (after years of sending my writing out & no takers) I decided to self publish at the age of 40 in 2005. With seven novels, four graphic novels, two non-fiction books, and more stories since then, I’ve found life’s second act pretty rewarding. Not so much financially, but in terms of the reception of the work & encouragement of peers and fans. Just paneled at Balticon for the tenth year or so (COVID throws my count off a little…) this weekend. This was a nice sort of affirmation to read this morning — thank you!
Nice to hear this point of view, as I near 60 and start my more creative life after decades as a school teacher I appreciate the idea that my most creative years may be ahead of me.
I’m not interested in a career in the arts (I write my own stories (non comics) for fun) but I’ll take your advice to heart, Colleen.
Terrific post, thanks.
Thank YOU.
“What a women artist needs is a wife.“
Important and nicely written piece Colleen.
Are you going to Heroes next month?
Nope, I'll be at Garden City and Phoenix Fan Fusion in June.
Oh well. Too far from England! Take care.
Jack Kirby was well into his third decade as a comics professional when he had his "blitzkrieg " at Marvel. Then almost a decade later he went to DC and was a creation machine. It's never too late to create.
As i make up stories for my granddaughter at her bedtime, i think that maybe i should be writing and illustrating some of them before memory fades.
"The gift is nothing without the work."
That gives a new perspective to my own experiences in life. When I was growing up, my parents nurtured my interests in many ways. I liked to dance a lot when I was very young, so at age five, they signed me up for ballet classes -- I did want to be a ballerina. I had two years of ballet classes. But that desire, that "gift" got stunted at the end of the first ballet class. The instructor was talking with my parents while I was standing beside them, but out of their eye levels. The instructor indicated that I had talent, but "she will never be a ballerina, because she is going to be too tall." I don't think they realized I was listening too. I still loved ballet and dancing, but I didn't work at it because that five-year-old thought the goal was impossible for me.
Music came easily to me: singing, playing instruments, understanding music instinctively. But it was easy for me, so I don't think I valued the activity enough to work really hard at it. (I was content with First Chair Second Violin. I had no ambition to be a soloist.)
Even doing artwork never seemed like work. It might have been because I was always drawing from an early age that I developed skills intuitively. But I was able to achieve results that impressed people with what I considered to be little serious effort. So, I never really applied myself to really learning the craft: I can fake good anatomy, but I haven't really studied drawing it in detail; I can do perspective drawings freehand, but I never pushed my internal vision, and other similar lapses in "work". These days I do occasional artwork to please myself, and that's almost the only "work" I do in the visual arts.
But writing ... THAT I had to work at. I loved listening to stories. I love the effects that can be achieved in putting words together, of leading readers along a path of my own devising. But I had to actually work at learning to do it well. I went through my period of purple prose. I went through a period of writing cardboard characters. I wrote painfully labored pieces of poetry. I studied storytelling, in the English language. I studied how thoughts were shaped in other languages (Latin, Anglo-Saxon, Old Irish, a year of Biblical Greek, high school French) -- I wasn't interested in speaking those languages or writing them, but rather how ideas were shaped by the way the language worked. All in all, I really worked at learning how to be a good writer.
The result is that I have written a few good things. Have I gotten paid serious money for my writing? Well, a little bit yes. But everything that you say about having to pay for life, Colleen, has been true of my experience. I like to believe that I have finally reached the point where paying for the basics of life can just be met, allowing me the time to really, at long last, go whole hog in writing up a storm (to mix metaphors), letting all my still-untold stories take shape in words and fly out into the world. Or, to put it briefly, work at my writing.
Thanks for your insights! You always bring a clear perspective to the creative life!
Colleen’s assertion also struck me, Sarah. I peaked as an artist when I was younger. But I was only a copycat with no style of my own. One day I would draw like George Pérez. The next, Berkeley Breathed. I was an artistic chameleon. That was over 30 years ago and I haven’t picked up a pencil since.
I started returning to the drawing board for my as-yet-to-release publication. I’ve been dissatisfied that I have to learn to draw, again. Scratch that—I find myself again, learning to draw, for the first time.
Excellent post, Colleen.