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(Full episode transcript below show notes)
Greetings from the floor (again)! This week, I’m talking about how to navigate a sustainable and successful writing habit despite living in difficult times.
Don’t get me wrong — I’m not superhuman, and I’m not here to sell you on toxic positivity or tell you to “just” try harder. I’ve been disheartened, unmotivated, and exhausted for months now. But despite all of this, I’ve been able to keep my creative spark alive.
That spark just looks a little less like joy/delight/creative productivity and a little more like… spite.
Interested to hear more? Pull up a floor cushion and join me for this week’s ever-so-rebellious episode.
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Full Episode Transcript:
Speaker 1 (00:00):
This is the Write Now podcast with Sarah Werner, Episode 168: Writing Out Of Spite.
(00:27):
Welcome to Write Now, the podcast that helps all writers — aspiring, professional, and otherwise — to find the time, energy, and courage you need to pursue your passion and write. I’m your host, Sarah Werner, and I am once again recording this episode from the floor, so forgive me if it sounds a little weird or off. It’s just me, sitting on the floor.
(00:53):
If you’re all caught up with the show, you might know that I’ve been dealing with what has turned out to be a multiply misdiagnosed L4/L5 herniated disc. So, one of the discs in my spine is bulging out, which is sending jolts of pain through my hip and radiating down my leg. This has been an ongoing odyssey that spanned over six months and several misdiagnoses, but the good news is next Monday I am going in to get an epidural steroid injection, so they’re going to put a big needle in my spine and hope for the best.
(01:38):
No, seriously — thanks for bearing with me over these last several months. I have not been able to… well, I haven’t been able to podcast as much as I would’ve liked to. I have also not really been able to do much of anything else that I would have liked to. Walking is difficult. Sitting anywhere other than the floor has been difficult. I haven’t been able to go to restaurants or movies or kind of anywhere, including outside on walks, and so… I’m really eager for Monday. Let’s just say that. But until then, I’m going to continue to talk about creativity through the lens of not being okay in general, whether you are dealing with illness, depression, job loss, caring for a loved one; I mean, even taking care of a newborn baby. These are very stressful situations that really weigh on us physically, emotionally, and spiritually. And I think that our creativity is one of the ways in which we respond to what life gives us.
(02:42):
I can tell you that over the last six months as my pain has increased steadily, I’ve been feeling more and more anxious about my creative life — or, y’know, my life — because I’ve gotten to a point now, and maybe this is true for you as well, I’ve gotten to a point now where I cannot and don’t wish to separate the two. My life is my work, in a way — everything I do in life contributes to my creativity, and everything I do in what I create sort of bleeds out into my life. I know that’s a little bit of a perhaps confusing thing to say in a podcast that is about work, life, and writing balance, but I don’t think the key to that balance necessarily lies in separating out those three buckets, if you will. I think some of the balance comes in when we realize that work and life and writing are all in one of those triple Venn diagrams… and at the center of it is you.
(03:45):
Side note: if you would like to draw this Venn diagram of yourself and send it in, I would absolutely love to see it. I’m now very curious what everyone’s triple Venn diagram looks like with work and life and writing-slash-whatever creative project you’re working on right now. But as I am now someone who has fewer resources — because something I’ve learned along the way is that pain is very energy draining. I’ve fortunately not faced a lot of pain in my life. I mean, I’ve felt pain before in many senses of the word. I’ve had two major spinal surgeries. I’ve been through probably the same as anybody else, but I’ve never dealt with pain on a lasting scale of months or more without any respite. There have been days when I have wanted to go outside for a walk, like my legs have that restless kind of interiorly itchy feeling, but when I try to walk, even to walk toward the door to go out of the house, the pain is debilitating and I immediately need to lie down on the floor or go back to bed. It’s sort of like having cabin fever, but the cabin is your body.
(05:00):
And it’s deeply frustrating when you know, Hey, I am otherwise healthy. I want to do this, and this one problem means that I can’t. I don’t like the word can’t. I don’t like being told that I can’t do something and, perhaps even more, I don’t like it when my body tells me I can’t do something. There are days when the pain has been unmanageable — again, another term that I couldn’t fully comprehend until I went through it, apparently — but pain that you can and can’t manage are incredibly different things. So there have been a few days where I could not manage the pain and I would just lie in bed with a configuration of pillows beneath and around me, hurting when I moved, hurting when I didn’t move, chock-full of painkillers ,and just miserable, and those days were rough.
(05:55):
But on the days when my pain was manageable, I found myself extra eager to do stuff. Like, oh boy, I am having a low pain day. I have a little bit of energy. I’m like one of those toys that you pull the string and then watch me go. I mean, except I still couldn’t walk. So there was that. But there was this little seed burning in my heart (figuratively and not literally speaking or we would’ve been having a very different conversation about pain) — but there was this little spark in my heart and it felt something like anger where on those days where I could get out of bed and hobble into my office and sit on the floor in front of my bookcase at my makeshift little floor desk and I would just be on fire to write. I would think to myself, you know what? I can’t do any of these other things that I love doing. I can’t go for walks. I can’t go to a theater. I can’t ride in a car. I can’t sit up and eat at a restaurant, but gosh darn it, there is one thing that I can do that this injury will not stop me from doing, and I’m going to write.
(07:07):
So weirdly, this time of being in pain a lot and having to take a lot of time off and sleep a lot has been one of the most productive writing times in my entire life. I have been writing a lot and I owe that at least in part to spite.
(07:28):
Now, I want to back up a second and make sure that we’re all on the same page, figuratively speaking. Before I started recording this episode, I looked up the actual definition of spite in the dictionary and it defined spite as a noun: “The desire to hurt, annoy, or offend someone.” It is very important for me to clarify that, in recording this podcast episode, it is not my intention to hurt, annoy, or offend you. I don’t want to do this accidentally or deliberately.
(08:02):
Rather, when I talk about spite, I’m talking about it more in a sense of defiance. It’s that rebellious spark that pops up when someone tells you, “Oh, you can’t do that.” And instead of saying, “Well, all right,” and shuffling away, you get that fire building up inside of you that says, “Oh yeah? Watch me.” So perhaps I should say I’m writing in spite of this injury that I’m dealing with. I’m writing to spite it, and not you, wonderful listener. It’s not about harming anyone deliberately or otherwise. Instead, it’s more about proving to myself and to whomever else may be watching that I am not going to let this thing that happened to me keep me down. I’m not going to let it take away anything else from me, least of all the thing that I love to do the most.
(09:00):
If you ever watched the TV show “LOST”, I don’t know if it was in the pilot episode, but in an early episode, there’s a character named John Locke who is — spoiler alert — wheelchair bound, and all throughout his daily life, people are constantly telling him, “You can’t do that.” “Oh, you can’t do that.” “You can’t do that.” And he has this really powerful moment when he gets fed up with that and he says, “Don’t tell me what I can’t do!” It’s a sense of beautiful human stubbornness that really resonated with me. I still think about it today.
(09:38):
About 600 years ago I recorded an episode of the Write Now podcast called “Make Them Tell You No” — it’s episode number 60 if you want to check that out, and I’ll have a link to it in the show notes for today’s episode. But in that episode, I talked about how to go after the things that you really want — not just to assume that someone’s going to tell you no, but to actually ask for the things that you want, to make them tell you no, instead of just assuming that the answer is no and leaving in despair. I think that this sense of spite that I’m talking about is a reaction to when somebody tells you no.
(10:18):
Now, being told “no” is normal, and sometimes it’s for our own good. You tell a little kid “No!” when he’s about to run into the street, and that is done out of love and protection.
(10:30):
Or, back when I was a UX/UI slash content strategist at a marketing firm, at every quarterly review I would ask, “Hey, can I become a manager? Can I become the director of content strategy?” And every quarter for several years, they would say no. And it was something that, once they told me no, I couldn’t force them to do it. And so eventually after enough times, I sort of threw up my hands and I said, “Fine, I will go elsewhere.” And I left my job and I started freelancing, and then I started doing all of these other things, and that ended up being a very good thing.
(11:14):
Them repeatedly telling me “no” about this promotion also worked out in a different sense: being made a manager would’ve kept me at a job at which I was feeling increasingly uncomfortable and restrained. Being made a manager would have put me on a very different path, which honestly would have caused me to have to jeopardize several of my morals and principles. Being a manager was not a good fit for me, and it was a few years before I realized that that was the case. But in the end, it worked out best, I think, for everyone.
(11:51):
But there are times when we are told “no” regarding something that’s not in our best interest. One of the reasons that I started podcasting was because podcasting at the time (and still today) did not and does not have the same gatekeeping measures that a lot of other media does. I couldn’t walk up to a studio in Hollywood and say, “Hey, I’m Sarah. I’m a completely untested writer. Hire me.” I felt at the time — whether it was true or not — that I would never find an agent to represent me. I would never find a publisher to publish my writing. So I pivoted to a medium where there was nobody who could tell me “no”. And I’m still here today.
(12:36):
Because I think a lot of the time, the “no”s that we receive in these other matters are not for our own safety or protection or wellbeing. I think a lot of the time, perhaps much of the time, people tell us that we can’t do something, people tell us “no” out of reasons that are completely unrelated to us or our work. Maybe you mention to somebody close to you that you want to be a writer and they say, “Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” because they want you to be a doctor or a lawyer, an end which serves their wishes and desires, and not yours.
(13:16):
Or maybe you write some really weird stuff, like, super experimental, and if you can talk to any agents or publishers, they always tell you, “No, this is not commercial enough to sell. You can’t write this.” That no is not about you. It’s about their income. It’s about their profit. It’s about them not being able to figure out a way to sell your work.
(13:42):
Or maybe you tell a friend or a colleague that you’re really wanting to write a novel, and they tell you, “Oh, I don’t really think that you should do that.” And when you ask them why, they say, “Oh, it’ll take too much of your time and energy, and I just care about you, and you’re going through a lot right now, et cetera, et cetera.” But — not to make us all paranoid, but sometimes the people that we know and let into our lives have ulterior motives. Maybe you have a friend who feels very insecure about their own life, and seeing you at their level without any successes or achievements or whatever keeps them feeling okay about that. And you saying, “I want to write a novel” puts you on a pedestal of somebody who wants to achieve something really cool, and they’re terrified that you won’t be on their level anymore, that you won’t want to be friends with them anymore, or that they won’t be able to drag you down to their level anymore (depending on how paranoid we’re being and how malicious this hypothetical person is being).
(14:44):
Sometimes, people will tell you no out of selfishness or fear or confusion or pettiness, or maybe they are just completely underestimating you. Maybe they think that you’re not a good writer despite never having read anything you’ve written. Maybe they’re making some very untrue assumptions about your creativity or your capacity or your energy levels or even just who you are fundamentally as a person. Maybe they want to write a novel and they’re terrified you will be competition for them, and they want you to give up. I don’t know. I generally don’t go around assuming the worst of everyone, but things like that do happen, especially where pettiness and jealousy and envy come into play.
(15:31):
Heck, maybe you’re telling yourself no, and it’s an act of self-sabotage because, secretly, in your heart, you want to write that novel. But giving into the fear and uncertainty and risks involved makes it feel a lot safer to say no.
(15:47):
If you find yourself hearing no from somebody about a creative endeavor that you want to take on, I encourage you to listen to that little spark in your heart. Does them telling you no make you feel indignant? Does them telling you no fill you with a sense of rebellion? Does them telling you that you can’t do something make you want to respond, “Don’t tell me what I can’t do”? Does hearing someone say, “Oh, you could never write a novel,” make you want to respond, “Watch me”? Then writing out of spite might be for you.
(16:22):
Some of the best and most important things I’ve ever written I have done out of spite. And maybe this is just me — maybe I have just a rebellious nature — but for me at least, spite is an incredible motivator, especially when someone is underestimating you or laughing at you or secretly hoping that you’ll give up.
(16:46):
Now, spite isn’t the only thing that motivates me. I want to be very clear about this. Most days I write and I find my motivation to write through simple excitement to work on a project or a deadline that I know is coming up, and I’m terrified to disappoint the person who set that deadline or curiosity or purpose or ambition or a sense of meaning. In fact, I have a whole Write Now episode about finding motivation to write. It’s episode number 93, and I will link to it in the show notes for today’s episode. So for me, spite is not an everyday fueling energizer, but on the days when I do feel like giving up, on the days when it feels like everything is stacked against me, on the days when I’ve heard, “No, you can’t” too many times, sometimes I feel that spark of spite or rebellion and I let it burn, and that’s what gets me through. That’s what gets me writing.
(17:51):
So I’m curious: what about you? Have you ever written something out of spite? Have you ever written something simply because someone told you that you couldn’t, or weren’t allowed to? Have you ever created something out of anger that no one was listening to you? Have you ever created something simply to rebel?
(18:10):
I’m very, very curious to hear your stories. You can respond and tell your story over at sarahwerner dot com — that’s S-A-R-A-H-W-E-R-N-E-R dot com. And if you navigate to the show notes for today’s episode (this is episode number 168), and scroll all the way down to the bottom of the post, there is plenty of room for comments where I would love to hear your story and your experience in writing out of spite.
(18:41):
Special thanks for today’s episode go out to my wonderful, charming patrons out on Patreon. If you would like to become a patron on Patreon, there is a support link in the show notes for today’s episode. You can also, if Patreon is not your thing, you can also support me via PayPal and Ko-Fi slash “coffee” slash however you pronounce it. So lots of options there. If you are not financially solvent right now, I completely understand! And one of the best things that you can do to support the show is just to tell someone about it.
(19:16):
Special thanks go out today to patrons, Laurie, Regina Calabrese, Amber Fratesi, Charmaine Ferreira, Kim, Mike Tefft, Poppy Brown, Tiffany Joyner, and Whitney McGruder. You guys are amazing and I truly, truly appreciate your support. Thank you.
(19:38):
In addition to recording Write Now podcast episodes, I also host create alongs or write-alongs every Wednesday and Friday evening from seven to 9:00 PM Central. I livestream these to both YouTube and Twitch, and basically what happens is we get together at 7:00 PM Central, so whatever time zone that is for you, we chat a little bit about writing for the first 15 minutes or so, and then I mute myself, we write together for an hour and a half-ish, and then we come together again at 8:45 PM Central and just talk about how it went, if we had any roadblocks, if we are stuck on anything and we just kind of chat about creativity for a little bit.
(20:24):
If this is something you’re interested in, these are, like everything else I create, perfectly, 100% free. All you have to do is just come and join us. They’re super chill. So if you have to come late, that is absolutely fine. You can totally do that. I basically host these just so that I can get some writing done as well. I like the atmosphere. I like hanging out with other cool people. Again, they are completely free and open and available to all ages and all levels of writer, so if that’s something that would be supportive for you.… I know that for a lot of folks, being in a space where other people are writing and working on something similar to you, that can be very inspiring, very motivating. If this would be supportive to you, I have links to both my Twitch and my YouTube channels in the show notes for today’s episode.
(21:17):
With that, this has been episode 168 of the Write Now podcast, the podcast that helps all writers — aspiring, professional, and otherwise — to find the time, energy, and courage you need to pursue your passion and write… even when people tell you “no”. I’m Sarah Werner, and I’m here to say that writing out of spite is completely valid.