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The Creep of Anxiety

2/2/2011

 
Okay.  So today I’m waiting for a dishwasher repair person to show.  Other than belching electrical fumes and not draining, the machine works swimmingly.  But that’s ostensibly the reason I’m not in my car right now driving up to DC for AWP.

Another reason I’m not driving to DC just yet is that I don’t know if I can stomach four days of being around people who are near-carbon copies of me: anxious “emerging” writers who are in various states of “emerging.”

God, how I had that euphemism: emerging.
Don’t get me wrong.  I’m happy with where I am in my career trajectory.  For a guy not two years removed from his MFA program, I’ve had stories published by strong magazines.  I’m in a great writing group populated by a lot of writers whom you’ve probably already read.  I’ve had a super-fantastic residency, which was one of the best experiences of my life, and I’ve been asked to edit some cool magazines.  As I’m writing this, an agent whom I respect is circulating my novel manuscript to selected editors.  So it could be worse, right?

Anyone who values security should not pursue a career in the Arts.

By our sheer numbers, it’s a near-certainty that we’re not all going to emerge into what passes for a thriving literary career.  When we flock together, we’re hyper-attuned to signals of each other’s success.  It’s not that we’re jealous—to the contrary, it’s freakin’ exciting that major houses are publishing writers like Amelia Grey and Alexi Zentner and Hannah Pittard; it gives all of us hope, right?  I’ve got friends.  And friends of friends, and we all follow each other on Facebook.  But sometimes, under a state of constant anxiety, semaphores of others’ successes  translate in our minds as signs that we’re not professionally where we need to be.

Which I guess is a euphemism for we’re abject failures.

Anxiety, like other embarrassments, is one of those things we’ve been trained not to reveal about ourselves.   Until recently, I feared no one else felt anxious.  Then I read this Amber Sparks blog post where she admitted her anxiety.  Amber Sparks, who’s written some of my favorite stories over the last few years, just happens to be one of the writers whose publication record is to die for.  And yet, as much as her admission startled me, I was struck by the dozens of other first-rate writers who confessed feeling the same.  Go ahead: look at the comments in her thread.

We’re all “Yardstick People,” Cathy Day writes.  “A constant battle [goes] on between pride and humility” as we measure ourselves against the other writers that temporarily flitter nearby.  I guess it’s natural and maybe even necessary if we can somehow churn these anxieties around enough in our souls to propel us to write newer, greater novels, stories, and poems.

AWP, of course, is also about the ideas and friends we meet while there.  I’m eager to hear many of my fellow “emergings” read at off-venue gatherings.  Hopefully, I’ll make the drive up to DC on Friday.  That is, if the dishwasher repair person ever comes.

Heather link
2/2/2011 04:54:31 am

Great post, Nick. I am so enjoying your blog. I feel the same sort of anxiety, and the worst part is that, when I'm feeling it, it is very difficult to write. It turns into a self-hate/non-writing death spiral pretty quickly. Knowing even the most successful among us feels that way is actually comforting.

Gabriel Blackwell link
2/2/2011 06:28:40 am

Despite the occasional person literally looking over your shoulder to find someone "better" to talk to, AWP isn't quite so competitive as it might seem from a distance. No one's handing out resumes, literally or otherwise. It IS a great way to meet lots of wonderful, talented writers you might not otherwise get to meet, and take a look at an awful lot of presses and journals most of us just don't get a chance to check out in our far-flung local bookstores. I'm jealous you're going. Say hello to Matt Bell and everyone at the Dzanc table from me. And have yourself some fun, Nick.

Nick Kocz link
2/2/2011 06:59:15 am

Heather-- Glad you're liking the blog! Gabe-- I really have mixed feelings about AWP. I've gone twice before and am a total geek when it comes to attending all the panel discussions and readings that I can cram into my day. But there always comes a point, usually in the mammoth bookfair, when I look around and just feel so um, small. It's entirely in my head-- no one has ever snubbed me just because I haven't appeared in X or Y magazine or won Z prize. Still, this year I really want to go just to say hello to all the great people I've met virtually over the last year.

Ed Weathers link
2/2/2011 06:59:53 am

I like any blog post that calls a euphemism a euphemism. Glad I never had occasion to attend a professional conference.

Aubrey Hirsch link
2/2/2011 01:20:47 pm

I hear this. I'm typing this comment from the Omni in DC and everywhere I walk I'm like, "Do I know that person? Do they know me? Should I know them? Are they too famous to talk to me?" And on and on and on. I hope to run into you, once your dishwasher's fixed!


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