While I was taking my recent mini-retirement, I discovered the reality design competition TV shows on Bravo: Project Runway, Top Chef, Top Design. I've been aware of these shows for a long time--my partner has been a big fan of Project Runway for a long time--and I've always thought they were overwrought, histrionic portraits of total self-absorption. I've never been a supporter of the idea of difficult creative genius. My chosen profession requires diplomacy, collaboration and etiquette, and I didn't understand why anyone should be allowed to bypass those standards just because they create fashion or cuisine rather than the more mundane type of services a doctor provides.
As I found myself unexpectedly fascinated by these overwrought and histrionic design shows, I had to ask myself why. Certainly I might have felt more generously towards them because I had so much time to rest and try new things. But they were so interesting to me and I watched them so obsessively that I knew it was more than rest and experimentation.
Then I realized I identified with the most difficult designers, the ones who threw fits when their design wasn't going well or the sewing machines broke. I didn't like their petulance or bad temper per se, but I really admired their commitment to art, to the creative process. I have been a well-behaved woman for most of my life and have prided myself on having good manners, bionic unruffleability, and for being a team player. These are qualities which have served me well as a student and a doctor, yet as I progressed through medical education, I gradually let my original creative dream to be a writer fade away. Oh, I expressed my restless energy in other pursuits such as knitting and spinning yarn, but I didn't feel this was enough for me. What I wanted to do was write, just as I have ever since I was eight years old, and the histrionics of the Project Runway designers made me realize I haven't defended the dream the way I should have, in my words and actions.
I'm not saying I should have been screaming at my co-workers or throwing my stethoscope on the floor in a fit of pique whenever I was asked to cover someone else's shift, but I should have been an advocate for the time and space I need to write, even if I have to be a total bitch--uh, extremely assertive--to get what I need.
In this creative spirit I decided to participate in NaNoWriMo this year. I love the organization which runs this event--the Office of Letters and Light--and I love its simple goal: to get people to write, every day, even if the writing is pointless and bad. At least this is writing on the page, not writing that Might Be One Day. I started on November 1st and plugged away every day, even after my partner was diagnosed with melanoma and the flurry of specialty appointments and uncertainty began. I thought about abandoning NaNo when the crisis occurred, so I could give myself over to what needed to be done, but my brand new Inner Diva stepped in: No way are you going to stop now! she said. Find a way!
So I did. Last night, just before the deadline, I passed the 50,000 word mark, and so I am a winner of NaNoWriMo 2008. Most of the 50,000 words I wrote were utter and complete garbage, but now I can see the novel I've been dreaming about for years much more clearly than I ever have before, and I owe that to the event, and to my Inner Diva.
And now, on to the obligatory self-congratulatory victory cry: ROCK ON, GIRL!!!
Wow, congratulations! I always say I'm going to do it, but then don't.
Posted by: s | December 02, 2008 at 09:16 AM
You go girl!
Posted by: dragonfly | December 02, 2008 at 03:19 AM
Congratulations! Keep it up... your readers appreciate you!
Posted by: Dr. Val | December 01, 2008 at 05:41 PM
You go, Girl!
Inner divas are necessary. I may well be letting mine loose tomorrow, by staying home to write rather than accompany your dad to Toronto.
Posted by: Gillian Chan | December 01, 2008 at 04:03 PM
Yay Theresa!
Posted by: Jane | December 01, 2008 at 03:17 PM
Rock on Girl!!! Good for you!!!
Posted by: rlbates | December 01, 2008 at 02:45 PM
Congrats! I remember once in a med school interview, when I told the interviewer that I wanted to write a "great Canadian novel," she asked me why I was applying to med school. Because I want to do it all...
I didn't get in. But I will one day!
Congrats on finding your inner diva! It's a journey that all artists have to go on, and it's so satisfying to feed one's soul consistently.
Posted by: Beach Bum | December 01, 2008 at 11:30 AM