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Steve Jobs and Me

Let me start by saying I never met Steve Jobs; I wish I had, but that’s beside the point. Like millions of others, his life’s work has greatly influenced mine. I’d like to say that I would write books even if I had only pencil and paper, or only a typewriter. I might, but I’m not sure. But why Steve Jobs, in particular?

I didn’t become an Apple fanatic until 2007. Like so many others, my business ran on Windows products so I thought the conversion would be overwhelming. It wasn’t until I closed my art gallery and bought a laptop with the express idea of writing a novel (a fresh start) that I felt no barrier to switching products. I have been writing for four years now, yet I’m still not published. A good friend with a good heart recently asked me why I’m not published when so many other people are. I made a few self-effacing jokes and thought I’d let that comment die… and yet I can’t.

Malcolm Gladwell is famous for extolling the notion that it takes 10,000 hours to become an expert in any given field. Because I was not an English major in college (even though reading, writing and academia have been a major influence on my entire life), I believed that I needed to put in five years of writing before I could hope to be good enough to be published. Time will tell. But the death of Steve Jobs reinforces that fact. No one begins with perfection.

Looking back, the first Macintosh computer now looks like a dinosaur, a laughable relic. The iMac on which I now type is sleek, elegant and sophisticated—a masterpiece. Yet if Steve Jobs had never released the original Macintosh, this computer would not exist. Nor would the current iPhone, Nano, or iPad.

Why am I not yet published? Because I am not yet as good as Ann Patchett or Jonathan Franzen. I am hypercritical of my work and anxious for it to be better. I’m also kind of shy. Stretching out of my comfort zone to pitch a novel that isn’t as good as (insert any literary masterpiece here) stops me from sending out the quantity of query letters necessary to find the right agent to rep me. Instead, I finish a novel (I’ve completed three), send out a few queries, then immediately start on my next story knowing it will be better, it will be good. My standard of good enough is as high as Steve Jobs’ must have been, but it apparently didn’t hold him back and I cannot let it hold me back.

In 2005, Jobs gave a now-famous commencement address to the graduates of Stanford University. In that speech he said, “The only way to do great work is to love what you do.” I love writing. I am confident that I will be published, and thanks to Steve Jobs, I will no longer be shy about what I have created. My first published work will probably not be the great American novel; that’s okay. The important factor is where it will lead me.

With enough love, persistence and luck, maybe one day I will write a novel that is as delicious as an Apple.

 

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Finding Your Voice

We are not alone. Not only is that a reference to a great book/blog/support group all headed by Kristen Lamb, but it follows with the theory that there is nothing new under the sun. Some of my most brilliant lines, ideas and blog posts (which I think are TOTALLY new), I later discover have been said before. Hmmm.

For instance, in March of this year, I wrote a brilliant post titled My Third MFA. I walked around for a week with a smile about how witty I was. (Unfortunately, you can’t see all the positive comments because Apple erased them!) But just yesterday, I read a post titled My Private MFA by Randy Susan Meyer about the very same thing. Granted, I wrote mine months ago, but hers put me back where I belong. She is—at this moment—singing “Anything you can do, I can do better.” She’s done the same as me, but she’s already published. Bravo, Randy!

The truth about an MFA is this: If you have the time, patience, money and open mind to pursue an MFA it will teach you how to write. If not, you either have to be brilliant or you have to be persistent and self-motivated. (I consider myself two out of those three.) But, perhaps more importantly, a master’s degree in writing will help a writer find her voice by practicing all kinds of writing and then deciding what feels best before starting a 90,000 word novel.

My first novel, Any Day Now, was written in First Person POV by a female protagonist. How in the world did I think of that?! My second novel, On A Midnight Street, was Third Person POV about a male protagonist. (Please see this post to find out why the hell I thought I could do that.) My current WIP is omniscient. I’ve recently read and loved and been influenced by two books (specifically Bel Canto) by Ann Patchett written from the omniscient POV. This is exactly why they say that writers must be readers. And we are not only supposed to enjoy other books, we’re supposed to study, analyze, and learn from them.

Recently, I was speaking to a brilliant young man (ahem, okay, my son Elliott Krause) about the pros and cons about different POVs. Elliott, if I may, just graduated Phi Beta Kappa from KU with majors in English and Psychology. He was accepted at the University of Iowa (#1 writing school in the country) into their Non-fiction Masters program. He’s becoming a writer the traditional (right?) way. I’m trying to sneak in the back door. But what I realized after that conversation, is that I am still—in the midst of my fourth novel— finding my voice. I would like to think that this is the one. It certainly feels better than any of the others, but it remains to be seen if this becomes my writing voice permanently, or if I return to 1st or 3rd POV.

I’ve been writing now, more and more hours each day, for 4 years. Not quite at my 10,000 hours yet, but well on my way. The good news is that I LOVE writing, so I’m having the time of my life.

For you writers out there, how did you find your voice? From school—writing required papers for teachers. Or from reading? Or did you just start writing and assume whatever came out of your finger tips was right? How many of you writers have experimented with all the POVs to find your voice? Is it predicated by the story, or by the author?