Instructor Wisdom from April Darcy

Instructor Wisdom from April Darcy
Prize-winning writer April Darcy brings joy and wisdom to her writing students, even when pushing them through the super-intensive NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) each November. 
 
Her latest fiction can be found in Water~Stone Review and in Shenandoah, where she received the Shenandoah River Fiction Prize. Her nonfiction can be found in Cutleaf and in North American Review, where she was a finalist for the Torch Nonfiction Prize. She has received fellowships from Writing by Writers, the Napa Valley Writers Conference, and BookEnds at Southampton Arts of Stony Brook University. She is the recipient of a 2020 Elizabeth George Foundation grant, and a 2022 Fellowship from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts, both in support of a novel in progress. 

April shares her thoughts on the challenge of being “other-focused” and how to use it to keep your writing on track.

 Read on!

I used to imagine a far-off day when I’d grow into the kind of writer who sat at her desk every morning to meet a self-set deadline. Like training a muscle, I needed to develop the discipline and rigor to set independent writing goals and honor them. Without the structure of an MFA program, a writing class, or an external deadline. Other folks are able to do this, so why couldn’t I?

Surely it was a case of mind over matter. I just needed to keep writing “1000 words/day” or even “250 words/day” on my to-do lists every morning, even though it remained unchecked off almost every night. 

As the years have passed, I’ve realized something essential: when I set a goal for myself alone, “real life” interferes. Day job obligations, a sick child at home, a dog who just won’t sit still, a parent whose WiFi keeps getting knocked out across town.

But if I’ve signed up for, say, a workshop, or I’ve promised my writing group 20 new pages, the work magically gets done—even though real life continues to tick by problematically alongside.

Does this mean I honor other people, or their opinions of me, more than I honor myself? Maybe. But this is a problem only if I look at it as a problem. What if, instead, I turn it into a strength? Figuring out how to harness this others-focused soul of mine, and working inside the parameters of my own personality is key. If I know I won’t let down, say, my dear friend Amber who promised to read my 20 pages in exchange for my reading her 20 pages, doesn’t this mean that I am a good friend, and doesn’t this also mean I better keep working with Amber, if I ever want to get any writing done?

Being others-focused can be a wonderful lifelong quality, garnering you a rich and valued circle of friends and family, but it can also be a death knell for a creative life that requires self-set discipline.

And so how does one manufacture discipline, if it’s not innate? Accountability groups. Writing classes. Anything that requires commitment, ideally where someone will literally take attendance. Sign up for an opportunity where your promises have weight. Where someone—a friend? A teacher?—will be disappointed if you don’t show up. Put yourself in a real-life classroom or under a little Zoom-spotlight and force yourself to report how many words you wrote, how many pages edited, how many hours spent devoted to this thing you claim to love.  

Being others-focused can be disaster for a writing life, but only if you let it. Instead of fighting that quality, work within it—make writing promises to other people for a change, make them out loud, and then watch yourself finally keep them.