By Sarah Cannon
For years, I allowed a few things to hold me back from writing. These are the top three:
1) I had children when I was young and decided to stay home for a few years.
2) When I was ready to go back to work, my partner survived a near-fatality.
3) I spent the next five years in a panic.
I also didn't know what I wanted to do. I knew I was satisfied when I was reading to my children or to myself, or thinking of stories, or telling stories. I was having an awful time of life, but I had a story to tell—it was an itch I had to scratch. In what felt like a gluttonous move, I made the decision to get a loan and pay for time to write for real, time to read, and time with professional writers.
I'm not saying that everyone should pursue an MFA in Creative Writing. They're costly, and a diploma does not secure a publishing deal or gainful employment. Fast forward several years; I make my living as a copywriter for a consultancy firm in the financial/technical industry—not exactly a sexy publishing gig, but it pays the bills.
I'm forty-eight now, and I know better than to give merit to headlines meant to give me anxiety, like Can You Have a Writing Career After Forty? or Ten Reasons Why You Shouldn't Quit Your Day Job. When you're "older," you have stuff to say, and the confidence to say it. You know how to get the help you need, be it a paid mentor, community workshop, writer's group, or an online class. You know better than to worry about what career means, anyways.
Recently, I met a sixty-something Australian writer who assured me now was a perfect time to hone my craft. The kids are older now, darling, and you have all the wisdom that comes from that. She has handfuls of novels in handfuls of languages, and she began, like me, when she was a broke single mom with teenagers.
In 2016 I signed a contract with Red Hen Press to publish my memoir. The two years between signing the contract and the day the book was in my hands felt like book publishing purgatory. At the time, I was an elementary-school lunch lady and a barista. I was going through a divorce and learning to manage a household myself. It was one of those times in life where you feel like you're barely hanging on. I'll never forget when the managing editor wrote to me saying she loved the manuscript. I wept in my car hugging myself. It was almost enough validation right there. Would this be a start of a career? I sure needed one. I hoped so, but I also decided to be ok with the opportunity to share my story and be part of a literary arts community.
The Shame of Losing went on to not sell fantastically, but it was nominated for a Washington State Book Award in 2019—an honor of a lifetime. The camaraderie I gained with others braving the artist's path filled my cup.
To have a career in writing at any age means writing a lot. It means being patient. I can't always write a lot, so I am patient with myself. I was forty-four when I threw that book launch party and read passages in panels and at bookstore behind a mike. Now I am forty-eight with a handful of unfinished manuscripts. I accepted the reality that to raise my kids on one income in our fast-paced and expensive society, I had to pivot and educate myself in the digital marketing space. I learned about coding and software management systems and project management and cloud technologies and machine learning and AI and on and on and on. While it wasn't my primary goal, I discovered that learning new things enables me to connect with my design mind. I can leave the desk job work "at home" so to speak, and dip into the creative juices almost on command these days. I am less concerned about the publishing industry and my success in it, and more connected to the joy of the process.
Recently, I enrolled in a Julia Cameron-inspired The Artist's Way course. Between the regularity of the morning pages and newness of the independent artists dates, I started exploring a theme I had always wanted to take on. Inspiration struck and I put in for some paid time off to draft the beginnings of a play that I "finished" in a few weeks. I devoted energy to meeting new people working in this space. The excitement I feel about the potential for making something that can be shown, of collaborating with actors and a director and a theatre company, is, I think, a result of my having chosen to be on technical and editorial teams these recent years. I might turn fifty before any invites are sent for opening night; having written my book gives me the confidence that it is possible.
Ignore anyone who tells you otherwise—so long as we are diligent in the work, keep channels open for feedback, and stay the course, we can have a career in an art form we practice at any age.
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Ready to bring your experience to the page? Join Sarah Cannon for Collage Memoir: Arranging the Ephemera, a CRAFT TALKS webinar August 9th at 2PM Eastern. $25/early bird $15. Register or find out more.
Sarah Cannon earned her MFA from Goddard College, where she later helped launch the Lighthouse Writers' Conference and Retreat in Port Townsend, WA. Her creative nonfiction has appeared in the New York Times, Salon.com, Chicken Soup for the Soul, Brainline.org, Bitch Magazine, and elsewhere. She has taught creative writing at Edmonds Community College, Hugo House, and for Creative Nonfiction Magazine.
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