I just came back from a 19-day road trip, some of which involved writing with Murphy Writing Seminars at the Atlantic Center for the Arts in Florida. My lover brought two copies of The Iowa Review, in which I’d placed a story, which he bought to give to two of the people we visited on our trip back. Toward the end of that trip I received my 42nd rejection of a story that I printed out and got to work on, revising it so as to send it out to three more literary magazines. At one of our meals with one of our friends, this very supportive man repeated the lament of the poet whose workshop he’d attended, that we send pieces out over and over again for little or no compensation in the hope that enough people still get their stories from reading (as opposed to movies, series and games). I felt a pang in my chest. It sounded so much like that definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result. He apologized for hurting my feelings. But it wasn’t that. It was the reminder that what I’m doing—what we’re doing—is damn near impossible. I once tried to give up writing. I missed it, far more than I miss teaching, the day job that supported me for 35+years. And I loved teaching. Writing in this youth culture in your fifties? Try seventies, when I’m writing better than I ever did—and have more to write about. Life experience was, of course, more valuable than writing about it: childbirth, falling in love at seventy, all those students who impressed me in some way, travel. Sometimes I wonder if we aren’t all a little bit insane. And here I am, writing about it.
30under30, Young Writers To Watch and Best British Novelists Under 40 are all symptoms of a youth-worshipping culture that's been prevalent since 1955 and is now in decline. I just had my first collection of short stories published at 55 and five years after my last book; I have two other books slated for publication. I could go further than your Twain and advance you Daniel Defoe, who didn't write, let alone publish, til 60, or Goethe, whose masterpiece came when he was in his eighties. Or Emily Dickinson or John Donne, who never published at all in their lifetimes. Ignore the whole damn lot of them and do as you please. Blessings and power to you.
Thank you for this piece. It's beautiful and I hope it will be read by many, many writers over time. Our culture is full of pressures and distractions that fight against our being "only human" - which is actually something that shouldn't bring shame but something we should honor. I decided at 60 that I had definitely reached the "failed writer" stage of life, but that appellation didn't feel right, so I consider myself "widely unknown" instead, and have gone on writing and publishing poems, including full length collections. I am 77 and still at it, thanks to what happened inside me at 60.
Wonderful! These days especially, with all that's going on in our country and the wider world, I love hearing that some small gesture of mine has opened a new door for someone.
Thank you for this! As someone who got serious about writing even later in life, I could relate to so much of this. I'm coming off a period of intense creativity and a really productive year with a lot of publications, for which I feel incredibly grateful, but I also feel a lot of pressure (self-imposed, ofc) to keep the momentum going. But the reality is after expending so much creative energy and getting a lot of my back catalog out there in the world, the tank is running low--not to mention the fact that I'm working more than 40 hours a week at a grueling and demanding office job, and, you know, the horrors of the world at large. It's not easy to make myself slow down--I still have so many ideas and so much I want to do! But you have to listen when life is telling you it's time.
Life first. Life is what we make writing out of, not the other way around. So important to know this. Thanks for reminding everyone so well. Suzanne McConnell
This is a welcome reminder to all of us--particularly beyond a certain age. I had a satisfying career in academia for 53 years before retiring to the writing life at age 82. After several rejections, I published my first short piece in 2022 at age 87 and have kept persevering. Now 89, I can count 19 fiction and literary essays plus two in press. The declines greatly outnumber these, but I count only the ones with helpful comments. I don't call them rejections because I am not being rejected, and since I write only for myself and a few friends and family, I don't suffer burnout or need a writing break for more than a week or so to refresh my imagination. I'm exactly where I need to be.
Excellent article. I kind of 'gulped' at one point. I didn't send out my first writing - poetry - until 2018 when I was 61 years old. Since then, I've had a good (for me!) amount of success with nearly 150 poems published. I'm giving flash fiction a try and have had two pieces accepted this year. Sure. I wish I'd started way sooner than this but nothing I can do about that now.
With regard to Rene's discussion of taking a break from writing, I heartily concur. Being retired, I have a number of interests and find it helpful to 'cycle through' them over time. Reading, quilting, watercolors, hiking, biking and boating -- an allotment of time to each of my passions!
Sometimes, other than writing in my journal and posting a short poem or haiku to my blog every day, I think it's a good practice to divert my attention to writing elsewhere on a regular basis. Also, a good chunk of my inspiration comes from those 'mundane' entries, faithfully recorded, by hand, in my daily journals!
Absolutely fantastic post! I’m 68 and my novel Time Enough has just been published by Oprelle in the US. I couldn’t get it published in Canada or find an agent. After ten years working on it, sometimes actively, sometimes in my head while busy with life’s challenges, and then having so many rejections, I was ready to hit the delete key. One Writer in Residence in a library, with whom I worked during lockdown, would not let me give up. He refused to accept my defeatist attitude: I’m too old, too tired, too busy with grandchildren…He said the work was too good to let go. So you see, I’ve been through all the same ups and downs and am so grateful for the support I received, from him and my small press publisher. We are writers. We gotta write. Even if it only touches a few readers, don’t hit delete. Keep going and feeling the joy of creativity and the magic of words.
I feel this so very much. I was hell bent on being a writer when I was young, but life threw me a 20 year curve ball and I didn’t really pick up the pen or start hitting the keys again until last year. I actually just wrote about this in my Substack:
This article was perfecty on point for me, for precisely today and precisely this moment. Tears came to my eyes; so much recognition and resonance with how life—especially grieving—and the world keeps one up at night and “get in the way.” I’m at a crossroads and I’m getting big signals that it’s time to slow down and catch my breath and be in my life more than in my writing. Thank you.
Rene is not "a failed writer." The phrase "failed writer" is a trap. Rene, like the rest of us, is a writer, one who has written a certain number of things and who will write a number of things. She writes when she writes, and she has published what she has published. She is a writer. Period.
I’ve started re-reading and re-writing the first pieces I tentatively offered the world (ie me and my wife) back in 1981. It’s a bit of a shock to see how some of the themes I was working on then, still play out in my work today. I have no idea whether I’m a successful, failed or writer of indeterminate status - it really doesn’t matter. I do it cos I need to. And because I love doing it. If the world embraces It too, then that’s a bonus.
I just came back from a 19-day road trip, some of which involved writing with Murphy Writing Seminars at the Atlantic Center for the Arts in Florida. My lover brought two copies of The Iowa Review, in which I’d placed a story, which he bought to give to two of the people we visited on our trip back. Toward the end of that trip I received my 42nd rejection of a story that I printed out and got to work on, revising it so as to send it out to three more literary magazines. At one of our meals with one of our friends, this very supportive man repeated the lament of the poet whose workshop he’d attended, that we send pieces out over and over again for little or no compensation in the hope that enough people still get their stories from reading (as opposed to movies, series and games). I felt a pang in my chest. It sounded so much like that definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result. He apologized for hurting my feelings. But it wasn’t that. It was the reminder that what I’m doing—what we’re doing—is damn near impossible. I once tried to give up writing. I missed it, far more than I miss teaching, the day job that supported me for 35+years. And I loved teaching. Writing in this youth culture in your fifties? Try seventies, when I’m writing better than I ever did—and have more to write about. Life experience was, of course, more valuable than writing about it: childbirth, falling in love at seventy, all those students who impressed me in some way, travel. Sometimes I wonder if we aren’t all a little bit insane. And here I am, writing about it.
30under30, Young Writers To Watch and Best British Novelists Under 40 are all symptoms of a youth-worshipping culture that's been prevalent since 1955 and is now in decline. I just had my first collection of short stories published at 55 and five years after my last book; I have two other books slated for publication. I could go further than your Twain and advance you Daniel Defoe, who didn't write, let alone publish, til 60, or Goethe, whose masterpiece came when he was in his eighties. Or Emily Dickinson or John Donne, who never published at all in their lifetimes. Ignore the whole damn lot of them and do as you please. Blessings and power to you.
Thank you for this piece. It's beautiful and I hope it will be read by many, many writers over time. Our culture is full of pressures and distractions that fight against our being "only human" - which is actually something that shouldn't bring shame but something we should honor. I decided at 60 that I had definitely reached the "failed writer" stage of life, but that appellation didn't feel right, so I consider myself "widely unknown" instead, and have gone on writing and publishing poems, including full length collections. I am 77 and still at it, thanks to what happened inside me at 60.
I love that - "widely unknown." Thank you for sharing that!
And thanks for expressing your appreciation.
It really was helpful - hit me in a positive way, at a time when I really needed this perspective. "Widely unknown" is my new badge of honor. ❤️
Wonderful! These days especially, with all that's going on in our country and the wider world, I love hearing that some small gesture of mine has opened a new door for someone.
Thank you for this! As someone who got serious about writing even later in life, I could relate to so much of this. I'm coming off a period of intense creativity and a really productive year with a lot of publications, for which I feel incredibly grateful, but I also feel a lot of pressure (self-imposed, ofc) to keep the momentum going. But the reality is after expending so much creative energy and getting a lot of my back catalog out there in the world, the tank is running low--not to mention the fact that I'm working more than 40 hours a week at a grueling and demanding office job, and, you know, the horrors of the world at large. It's not easy to make myself slow down--I still have so many ideas and so much I want to do! But you have to listen when life is telling you it's time.
Life first. Life is what we make writing out of, not the other way around. So important to know this. Thanks for reminding everyone so well. Suzanne McConnell
This is a welcome reminder to all of us--particularly beyond a certain age. I had a satisfying career in academia for 53 years before retiring to the writing life at age 82. After several rejections, I published my first short piece in 2022 at age 87 and have kept persevering. Now 89, I can count 19 fiction and literary essays plus two in press. The declines greatly outnumber these, but I count only the ones with helpful comments. I don't call them rejections because I am not being rejected, and since I write only for myself and a few friends and family, I don't suffer burnout or need a writing break for more than a week or so to refresh my imagination. I'm exactly where I need to be.
i really liked this, Ron.. thanks..
I’m happy it resonated, Bernadette.
Oh, Ron, what a heartening comment. Wishing you a long writing life.
Excellent article. I kind of 'gulped' at one point. I didn't send out my first writing - poetry - until 2018 when I was 61 years old. Since then, I've had a good (for me!) amount of success with nearly 150 poems published. I'm giving flash fiction a try and have had two pieces accepted this year. Sure. I wish I'd started way sooner than this but nothing I can do about that now.
With regard to Rene's discussion of taking a break from writing, I heartily concur. Being retired, I have a number of interests and find it helpful to 'cycle through' them over time. Reading, quilting, watercolors, hiking, biking and boating -- an allotment of time to each of my passions!
Sometimes, other than writing in my journal and posting a short poem or haiku to my blog every day, I think it's a good practice to divert my attention to writing elsewhere on a regular basis. Also, a good chunk of my inspiration comes from those 'mundane' entries, faithfully recorded, by hand, in my daily journals!
Absolutely fantastic post! I’m 68 and my novel Time Enough has just been published by Oprelle in the US. I couldn’t get it published in Canada or find an agent. After ten years working on it, sometimes actively, sometimes in my head while busy with life’s challenges, and then having so many rejections, I was ready to hit the delete key. One Writer in Residence in a library, with whom I worked during lockdown, would not let me give up. He refused to accept my defeatist attitude: I’m too old, too tired, too busy with grandchildren…He said the work was too good to let go. So you see, I’ve been through all the same ups and downs and am so grateful for the support I received, from him and my small press publisher. We are writers. We gotta write. Even if it only touches a few readers, don’t hit delete. Keep going and feeling the joy of creativity and the magic of words.
I feel this so very much. I was hell bent on being a writer when I was young, but life threw me a 20 year curve ball and I didn’t really pick up the pen or start hitting the keys again until last year. I actually just wrote about this in my Substack:
https://open.substack.com/pub/caseyjograham/p/late-blooming?r=f97uc&utm_medium=ios
Nice to know there are so many of us out here.
This article was perfecty on point for me, for precisely today and precisely this moment. Tears came to my eyes; so much recognition and resonance with how life—especially grieving—and the world keeps one up at night and “get in the way.” I’m at a crossroads and I’m getting big signals that it’s time to slow down and catch my breath and be in my life more than in my writing. Thank you.
Rene is not "a failed writer." The phrase "failed writer" is a trap. Rene, like the rest of us, is a writer, one who has written a certain number of things and who will write a number of things. She writes when she writes, and she has published what she has published. She is a writer. Period.
Thank you.
Beautiful. I so appreciate your honesty. I hope you know you're not alone in this.
Thanks for sharing this thoughtful and hopeful essay.
I’ve started re-reading and re-writing the first pieces I tentatively offered the world (ie me and my wife) back in 1981. It’s a bit of a shock to see how some of the themes I was working on then, still play out in my work today. I have no idea whether I’m a successful, failed or writer of indeterminate status - it really doesn’t matter. I do it cos I need to. And because I love doing it. If the world embraces It too, then that’s a bonus.
Absolutely loved everything about this essay. Wonderful. Just what I needed to read today.