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Tuesday, April 04, 2006Woe Is Me, Saith the Female WriterForget political correctness -- guys just have it easier. I know, I know -- they work hard, they have a lot of pressure on them, they worry about things like baldness and bankruptcy and impotence. But they still have it easier. And beside the fact that they can go swimming without having to worry about shaving and can wear white pants without having to worry about what time of the month it is, there is one huge reason why they have it easier. They can compartmentalize. In other words, they can keep all the little pieces of their lives in small, separate containers inside their testosterone-laden brains, and only worry about the box that currently has its lid open. If they're at work, it's the Work Box. If they're watching football, it's the Football Box. If they're mowing the lawn, it's the...you get the idea. And let's not forget the Sex Box. 'Nuff said. Not so for us women. We don't have any "boxes" inside our brains. We have one, vast space of endlessly moving threads of thought and emotion. Each component of our lives is inextricably attached to every other component. The argument we had with our girlfriend this morning affects the way our meatloaf turns out this evening. The behavior of our children during Story Hour at the public library affects our innate sense of self-worth in bed that night. And each and every primary relationship in our lives -- particularly our marriages -- deeply affects every task, decision, and passing thought, on a minute-by-minute basis. Now, let's apply this whole formula to writing. If I'm a man who happens to also be an author, I might be too tired to write because I had a long day, or I might be too sick to write because I've had the flu for three days. But if I've recently had an argument with my beloved wife, I'll still be able to sit down and pound out a few pages of my latest novel. Why? Because I'm able to close the Wife Box and open the Writing Box. If, on the other hand, I'm a woman who happens to also be an author, and I've recently had an argument with my beloved husband, I'll sit and stare at a blank monitor while every word in the English language eludes me. I might attempt to work out a particular plot detail in my head, only to discover that I am actually going over what I should have said that morning during our argument. I might even type out a sentence or two and think I've overcome my funk, only to dissolve in tears and sighs five minutes later. (No, I didn't have an argument with Eric this morning.) Then, too, I might be a woman/writer who has recently had a terrible misunderstanding with a friend via a poorly constructed email. Rest assured that I will check my inbox every five minutes until the misunderstanding has been resolved. Then, and only then, will I be able to resume my writing. If I've just had a relational hiccup with one of my children, I won't be able to write, either. In short, I cannot under any circumstances remove my writing from the intricacies of my primary relationships. It's almost like there's a huge energy reserve inside of me that's meant for the Most Important Things in life -- namely, my relationships and the pursuit of my passions. If a portion of that reserve is going toward calming the muddied waters of a particular relationship, there won't be enough of it left for my creative endeavors. Does that make me neurotic? Probably. But what it really makes me is completely female. Mind you, I'm not saying women writers are weak and wimpy. Au contraire! In order to make it in the relatively unfriendly publishing world, a woman has to be feisty, sharp, and tenacious. And you and I both know that there are a lot of feisty, sharp, and tenacious female authors out there. Some of them can't write to save their skins, but they're feisty, sharp, and tenacious nonetheless. I can be all those things. Really, I can. But I'm still going to exist in the everything's-tied-to-everything-else world of a woman. I can't help it. If my heart is broken, so is my writing. And when my heart has mended, my writing flows again, with the pain of the heartbreak lending depth and poignancy to my work that perhaps would not otherwise be there. It must be nice to have a Writing Box to neatly open and close at will. It must be nice not to have to wear a bra or shave one's armpits, too. But you know what? I love being a woman. I'll take my complicated, hormonal brain over Eric's all-the-little-boxes-in-a-row brain any day. It's who I've been divinely created to be, and I won't question it. Except, maybe, when I'm trying to finish a chapter through a torrent of unrelated tears. Then, perhaps, I might utter a single, "Why?" And when no answer comes, I will do what any self-respecting female would do. I'll reach for the chocolate. Labels: writing |
About Me
I am: Mother to five stunningly individualistic children... Writer of young adult fantasy... Passionate advocate for Women At Home... Madly in love with my husband... In need of Organic Gourmet Chocolate on a regular basis. I've got a Paypal account if you'd like to contribute to the cause....
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17of my readers are feeling chatty:
Oh Dear Lord! You've hit the nail on the head! Boxes in the head. That explains it! Too bad we can't teach ourselves to build a few boxes! I sure could use some every now and again! I'll have to remember the boxes next time I'm having a disagreement with my dear blockhead! ;)
This is too true!!
I gotta tell ya something. Josh and I went grocery shopping last night. We got a bag of Hershey kisses w/dark chocolate centers for a "treat". He suggest that we stick them in the freezer so we don't go crazy and I agree. I went to get some ice out of the freezer this morning and the bag was open...silly boy!!
I agree with Jenn, it would be nice to build some boxes!!!
Now wait... We've never met, right? How do you know me so well??
Actually, I have a wall of file cabinets in my head. Files are organized by category then alphabeticaly (by first name), then by date.
Now that I think of it, how do you know my wife so well too?
:-)
My box tore on the side, and lots of goo leaked out.
I'm so thankful the good Lord made me male-brained, I'm sure my dear husband is even more grateful than I am. Life is good when you can play the femininity card, should you need it, but generally keep your mental boxes in a nice neat row. ;-)
I wish I could put the lid on some boxes, too.
It's nice to have you back, Jill. I missed you!
Jenn and Gail -- Hiya, girlies! Somehow I'm not surprised that this is ringing bells with you both. :) But Gail -- he dug into the bag?? LOL!!!
Ken -- I've been peeking in your windows. ;)
Dave -- You will never run out of weirdness....not ever.
Kerrie -- You are delusional, my friend..... :)
Mrsatroxi -- It's good to see you! And thank you. I must pop over to your blog soon...I always enjoy reading you!
You are so right. Why in the world to we have to always make all our relationships work out...I have lost a precious friend to and agrument, which I am not even sure what the topic was...If I think I did something wrong, I worry and I want to fix it....You really put it very nicely. When you find the answer, please do share it. Can't reach for chocolate anymore, because I break out from it...argk...
I'm male and I have no boxes in my head. Lots of dead brain cells, cob webs, dust bunnies, and mold, but no boxes. I guess I should clean up my mind. I'm a guy and a mental slob (as well as just generally a slob); any surprise there?
I have an Idea but I can not share it yet LOL
but be warned you may laugh when I'm done!
Geez, I wish these things let you edit your comments. Of course, I meant cobwebs, not webs on cobs. I guess I should be more careful and less sloppy. Like I said, I'm a guy, any surprise there?
Like Dave, I have trouble keeping my stuff in their individual boxes. Lids pop open, or the foil I use to keep the leftovers fresh comes unwrapped (probably from me having to constantly peek inside to see what it is I wrapped up in there), or I ::gasp:: toss something into the refridgerator of my mind completey unwrapped and uncontainered!
Point is, while I do agree that men compartmentalize to a much greater degree than women, we're not so good at constructing containers all of the time. We may not show it immediately or as vigorously, but this morning's argument does affect this afternoon's work, and last night's cross look followed by the cold shoulder does distract us when we're driving. We may be stupid, but we're not dense. Well, okay, we're dense too, but not like solid concrete dense.
Joel -- trust me, being a "slob" isn't only reserved for guys. :)
Doris -- Soooo how long are you gonna make me wait??
Jerry -- Men don't construct the containers; at least not consciously. I believe what you're touching on here is the fact that some men LEARN HOW TO KEEP MORE THAN ONE LID OFF AT A TIME! These tend to be the men who are more in touch with their feelings, perhaps, and have a greater capacity for sensitivity. I don't know you, but I do know Dave kinda-sorta well, and he definitely fits the "more sensitive kind of guy" category. I'm guessing maybe you are similar to him in that manner.
And trust me -- that's a GOOD thing!
Yup, that's me - Mr. Sensitive. Voted in high school as the guy most likely to cry at weddings. Of course, like a man, even the sensitive ones, my brain flies out the window, the lid pops off the "stupid things to say to the wife" container, and I find myself bringing home gift certificates to DSW (shoes work better in my house than flowers).
Actually, I just now made up that part about the DSW gift certificate, but that does give me an idea... Do you think it would work for getting out of the doghouse?
Jill, yes...he dug into the bag!! LOL I asked him about it the next morning and his response was "I only ate one"
On the chocolate note...now that you got me eating good chocolate the Hersheys now tastes like WAX! ROFL!!
Thanks alot!! :-P
Well not sure, I have to put it all together :-)
Jerry -- only if the gift is completely sincere. ;)
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