A few weeks ago, I stumbled across this article listing the five common traits of successful artists. If you’re an artist or love an artist, go read it now. I promise it is short and worth the time.
I agree with all five points Lori McNee makes: passion, business sense, work ethic, resilience, and support. We’ve already talked a bit about her fourth point, resilience, when we were discussing disappointment.
Today I want to talk about her fifth trait: having a support system of people who believe in the work. The longer I am involved in artistic endeavor, the more I realize how important this component can be, if not to “success” than at the very least to my own personal well-being.
There is a special kind of zaniness that many artists have, a weird sort of marriage between egotism and insecurity, self confidence and self doubt, ecstasy and despair. The roller coaster is a lot easier to ride out when you have people cheering you on from the side … or riding that roller coaster with you. Getting negative reinforcement, not from critiques of your work (this will hopefully help make you better at your art) but from the mere fact of undertaking the work in the first place, can plunge the artist into the depths of angst. You might even be convinced to give up. Having powerful positive forces to help balance this out is essential unless you have an especially thick skin.
I think it’s no accident that I begin work on my most ambitious artistic endeavors when there is someone in my life actively rooting me on. Beginning serious study of music: my mom. Applying for and writing a senior recital: my best friend Francine. Writing a song a week: my friend Jimmy. And once I started dating my now-husband, I started my musical and then my novels. I am not convinced I could have accomplished what I have without the support and energy of these fabulous people. It’s possible I would have done it anyway, but it would have been a lonely path.
Nowadays, I’ve connected so firmly to other writers, in both the speculative and kidlit communities, that I no longer depend on one person. This is the ideal situation for a number of reasons.
- Other writers understand me. They understand what I’m going through, they understand the different steps of the process, they understand why I’m happy or sad or neurotic.
- Some of the writers are ahead of me in their careers and therefore can be turned to for sage advice. Some of the writers are behind me on the path and I can help them out and pay it forward.
- When one person has life happen and doesn’t have time for mutual support, I can easily turn to someone else, and there are no hard feelings.
- I can watch and be inspired by others’ successes.
- I have opportunities to learn and improve my craft: through conferences and conventions, through workshops, through critique groups and sessions, through reading other people’s works and hearing about other people’s struggles.
I have to put a quick caveat about family and other firmly entrenched nay-sayers. If your family is actively supportive of your art, hug them extra for me and realize you are extremely lucky. However, we do not get to choose our biological families, so some of us may find that our choices baffle our relatives. (This also holds true of certain old friends, random acquaintances, and business associates.) Ignoring what they say about our passions can be difficult and frustrating, but it just makes having a support system all the more important. Trying to change someone’s point of view about art (or anything, really) is an uphill battle that will often end in defeat. Instead, I try to ignore any defeatist messages I hear, and rant about it later to someone who will understand (usually my husband, who has infinite stores of patience for listening to this sort of thing). Do I shut these people out of my life completely? No, not usually, and sometimes it’s impossible to do so. Do I limit my time with them and try to steer the conversation away from potentially damaging remarks? You betcha.
I’ll even take the assertion of spending time with supportive people one step further. The more time I spend with people who are creative dynamic thinkers, whether they be artists, entrepreneurs, scientists, or what-have-you, the more energized and inspired I become. Seeing other people’s accomplishments brings them firmly into my own reality frame. I hang out with my friend who started his own tech company, or I hear about a high school classmate who started his own nonprofit, or I get sporadic updates from a college friend about the circus troupe he’s touring with, and I see beyond my own limitations of vision. These people’s lives show me what can be possible, and they inspire me to think big and then figure out how to make the idea a reality. I strive to be like these friends of mine, someone who can lift people up and have the courage to make bold decisions about life. This is what I think it means to be a practical free spirit: to dream big and then create and implement a plan to make it happen.
Word, Amy.
Not much more to say. 🙂