The Artist's Way

“The Artist’s Way” wasn't my original point of entry into the world of writing teacher/guru Julia Cameron. The first book of hers that I read in its entirety was “The Right to Write”. I even make reference to it in an image on the right hand side of this blog. I loved that book, and the way that Cameron explains so lucidly (and lyrically) that writing for its own sake is a wholly acceptable natural, human impulse, not reserved only for the super-talented, for the Stephen Kings and the John Le Carré’s of this world. “We write” she says, “because it is human nature to write. Writing claims our world. It makes it directly and specifically our own.” 

At that time it made me think of the Paleolithic paintings in the caves in Lascaux, France, and the way that even stone-age people felt the need to record the events of their lives, the sights and scents of the hunt or whatever religious rituals that marked their days. If their experience was valid, why not mine? The book taught me how to write from the present moment, to dig deeper into my own experience and to keep developing my own authentic voice. She also taught me to write what I liked writing about, rather than what I should be writing: “Guilty pleasure is what writing is all about. It is about attractions, words you can’t resist using to describe things too interesting to pass up” she said. And above all, there was this phrase, “forget lofty motives”. How freeing! There was no need for me to write the great American novel, after all. The only need was to satisfy my impulse to write. 

Did I do all the exercises in “The Right to Write”? Honestly no, but even a few sentences of Cameron’s beautifully inspiring writing would often be enough to make me set pen to paper. (It's the same for me with "The Artist's Way".) She refused to allow me the feeble excuse that there was no time to write, and for a while I committed conscientiously to her practice of doing my “morning pages” each day, and even taking myself out on an “artist’s date” now and again. 

Of course, every approach has its limitations. I don’t believe that Julia Cameron does a great job of teaching you how to be a commercially successful artist. She doesn't explain how to structure a short story, or write a novel like “Twilight” that appeals to the masses. I heard that Stephen King’s classic book “On Writing” is much better for that, and much more pragmatic about the “business” of writing but for various reasons, I haven’t brought myself to read it yet.

I did buy Eric Meisel’s “The Creativity Book” but didn't get too far with it. I found a book called “One Year to a Writing Life” by Susan M. Tiberghien to have some useful thoughts and exercises. I have a copy of Cameron’s “Vein of Gold” which I bought because it was on sale and I haven’t really looked at much. My inspiration and reading pleasure these days often comes from softly reflective memoir writing, such as Phyllis Theroux’s “The Journal Keeper” or May Sarton’s “Journal of a Solitude”. 

Our writer's group had an on-going discussion over the last few weeks about  the limitations of Cameron’s approach; it's pretty dated and it's based on the 12-step recovery model. This gives it a quasi-mystical tone and the venerable author has the similar, unquestionable status afforded to cult gurus around the world. My own blog from last week raised questions for some members about the concept of the "artist's date", and the idea that our "inner artist" is in some way separate from who we are. We wondered whether Cameron's work encourages a "splitting" of the self, and whether in some way it causes us to infantilize ourselves as continually "recovering" artists, rather than to claim ourselves as bona-fide artists in our own right. On the other hand and in her defense, there’s nobody like Julia Cameron for giving aspiring writers permission to write and doing it so evocatively, so irresistibly:

“Left to its own devices, writing is like weather. It has a drama, a form, a force to it that shapes the day. Just as a good rain clears the air, a good writing day clears the psyche. There is something very right about simply letting yourself write. And the way to do that it to begin, to begin where you are.”

It's pretty hard to argue with that ...
Anna