I’ve been thinking a lot about Harry Potter’s Mom lately. Not because the final movie came out this summer. While a number of my friends stood in line till midnight to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2, and one even won a trivia contest, that’s not why his mother’s on my mind.
And it’s not really Lily Potter I’m thinking of, not the murdered mom whose love and sacrifice protected the infant Harry, even in the face of astonishing evil.
I’ve been thinking about Harry Potter’s real mother, the one who carried him into the world against all odds. Who gave birth to him not once, but seven times. Who is, in her own way, more of a magic-wielder than any of the denizens of Hogwarts, since they may bend the reality around them, but she, single-handedly, gave it life. I’m thinking about J.K. Rowling. She and her story will not leave me alone.
Everyone knows it. More people, perhaps, than have read the seven Harry Potter books or seen the movies. At least they know the flashy part. The rags to riches story. The shortest form of which goes like this: A divorced British mom gets an idea for a novel, writes it by hand – predominantly in cafes – and goes on to become richer than the Queen of England.
Of course, there is so much more to it than that. But the crux of the story, the one that pursues me, is hidden in there, almost tossed off in two words: writes it. J.K. Rowling sat down and wrote Harry Potter. That story.
And lately, I have been reading it like tea leaves. Telling it to friends as parable. Wrapping it around myself against the cold. Not because it led to literary success. Literary success is a collision of talent and timing. You can’t predict it any more than you can predict earthquakes. You know they happen, you can track the rumblings, but no one has yet called the big one.
No, I’ve been living with the notion of J.K. Rowling as comfort, as a bedtime story for a lost girl with a notebook: me. It has become this writer’s personal Chamber of Secrets, hiding plain and powerful truths about risk, persistence and trust in the face of resistance.
Writing – all art really – is a terrible business. A quest of the most private and dangerous kind. There is no map. No one can go with you. Inspiration is a wispy thing, an alluring phantasm; there is no way of knowing, ever, if you are walking towards vision or illusion, towards a true story or a self-serving fantasy. Yet stories, like the Sirens, call. Ignoring them is risky. So is listening.
As a working writer, it’s even harder. Time is money, right? There is the work you get paid for, and then the work of the heart. No one is paying for heart stories (at least not yet). So what if you’re wasting your effort? These stories won’t feed anyone, heal anyone. They won’t pay grocery and doctor bills. How do you justify the time?
This is where resistance kicks in.
In The War of Art, Steven Pressfield reveals a secret that all artists know: what’s hard is not doing the work; it’s sitting down to do the work. “And what keeps us from sitting down,” he says, “is Resistance.”
Resistance is darker and sneakier than any evil wizard. Yet, like residents of Harry’s Universe, artists rarely speak its name. Invisible and insidious, we only know it by its plausible lies: “I’ll do a better job if I get some sleep.” “I’ll have time to paint once I get my ducks in order.” “Of course I’ll record my music…once I take a few more voice lessons.” We know it by its henchmen, Procrastination, Perfection, and Paralysis, whose ready assistance has marked the end of more promising creations than the world can count.
It’s a sad truth, but if I were J.K. Rowling, if Harry Potter had come looking for me, I would probably have ignored him, or put in him a file marked Someday. I would have thought of him from time to time, but the arguments against the effort would have been loud and reasonable. I mean, come on. Write a novel? Don’t I have to pay my bills first? Shouldn’t I start with a short story? And to write a book for children! About a boy wizard. Magic. Really? How does that help the awful state of the world?
And there they are: the henchmen and the lies. Fear of wasted time. Fear of reaching beyond perceived limits. Fear of the trivial.
And if J.K. Rowling were me, this is what she would have missed: a story that has captured minds, hearts and imaginations worldwide; that has invited children, especially boys, to read longer books than popular wisdom could conceive of; that has invited readers from eight to 80 into a single conversation about story, about good and evil, adventure, love, friendship and, yes, magic. And a story that has broken worldwide sales records, earning its author an income beyond anything that she, or anyone else, could envision for a children’s book.
But, again, this is not about the scope of her literary and financial success. Those matter to me only because they set off flares that are large enough – extreme enough – for a stubborn soul like mine to actually notice…and to recognize the real magic: that she wrote it, the whole inspired lot of it. She started, and she finished. Everything else came out of that.
Harry’s story officially ended in 2007. The final film has now been released. Who knows what Rowling will write next. It doesn’t really matter. She has emptied herself of an enormous tale and fed millions – hundreds of millions — of imaginations in the process. More, when you count the lucky ones who have yet to cross the threshold of Hogwarts for the first time.
But this other story won’t end. Not for me. It is new on a daily basis. It is my invisible protector, my talisman, my very own Patronus Charm. When the minions of darkness are upon me, when that unholy trinity – Fear, Doubt and Despair – whisper their cold and reasonable truths down my neck, when Resistance itself rises up, ten times my size, to whittle me down, show me to be the thin, slip of a writer I fear I am, I have my incantation.
“J.K. Rowling,” I remind myself. “J.K. Rowling.” And from nowhere, it summons the image of a woman writing, writing against all odds, writing in spite of herself, in spite of everything, writing simply because she has a story she must tell. And I begin to feel the glow, that small ember catching flame: the courage to tell my own.
© Deborah Edler Brown 2011
Harry Potter characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of and © Warner Bros. Ent. All Rights Reserved.
Wonderful!
As alway, Deb, this essay was inspiring and rich with truths about how our “demons” keep us from doing what know we need to do. I loved your line: “literary success is a collision of talent and timing”. That says it! The world was ready for Harry Potter and Rowling had the talent to bring him to us and whatever demons accosted her, she was strong enough to shoo them away. It’s curious how we perceive ourselves and how others see us: I, for one, am always enchanted with your writing (and your music) and yet here you are writing about your very own unholy trinity! We do it to ourselves, no doubt!
Your fan and fervent admirer
Monica
Oh Monica, thank you. We do do it to ourselves. Even well-known writers do. And then we miss the stories that want to come through us.
thank you for your always thoughtful response!
So….You’re writing a novel, then?
I am. I have been. I am. 🙂
That was very well said.
As point of information, you don’t need “Harry Potter characters, names and related indicia are trademarks of and © Warner Bros. Ent. All Rights Reserved.” anywhere in your blog. It’s fair use, and if it wasn’t fair use your notice would read “…used without permission.”
Thanks Michael. I wouldn’t normally use that language, but I got the movie poster image from Warner Bros., and that notice was a condition of use.
So glad you enjoyed the piece!
I love everything about this piece. I’ve shared the link on Facebook and in a direct message to my fellow writers. I especially love this: “When the minions of darkness are upon me, when that unholy trinity – Fear, Doubt and Despair – whisper their cold and reasonable truths down my neck, when Resistance itself rises up, ten times my size, to whittle me down, show me to be the thin, slip of a writer I fear I am, I have my incantation.” Yes, yes, yes!
Oh Susan, thank you! — for the feedback and for passing it along. I am
so happy it resonated for you. Here’s to all the work still to come!
Love your hook about the mom. It got me into your essay. Love the Unholy Trinity! I kept reading, saying:” yes, it’s true”. Could see myself in your descriptions.
Thank you for your musings!
Gabriele, I’m so very happy to hear it — not that you see yourself there (although don’t we all!), but that it landed well. Thanks for weighing in!
Deb…this part interested me…”Inspiration is a wispy thing, an alluring phantasm; there is no way of knowing, ever, if you are walking towards vision or illusion, towards a true story or a self-serving fantasy. Yet stories, like the Sirens, call. Ignoring…” For me, on my journey, I am so excited about recognizing inspiration, that, that in itself, is the reward! I am not attached to the idea of it being a vision or illusion as much as thrilled that I am open enough to experience the darn thing working through me at all!
Thanks for sharing sweet girl!
Laurie
Laurie, my pleasure. And it’s such a delight to watch you throw yourself headlong into inspiration and play.
As a mom, and a person who loves writing, I appreciated your thoughts! Its a joy to read you. I miss seeing and hearing you. Reading you has an incantation of its own. Thanks Deb!
Oh Amy, how lovely. Thank you! I miss seeing and hearing you, too, and sharing the wonder of words.
Your post reminds me that I have been resisting the urge to write for such a long time that I have been almost able to block the story that wants to be written. Thank you for reminding me that the story needs to be written and that I have to move out of my own way.
My pleasure. Thank you for the kind feedback. We always think it’s about us, but it’s not. The story picked you; let it fly.
I’ll read anything you write based on this lovely post ;-).
Oh my, Melissa. What a compliment! Thank you. 🙂
Thanks Deb! I needed that reminder.
Yay!
Beautiful powerful writing,
A reminder to all artists to listen to the little voice inside us and trust it has something to say and give to the world, not to dismiss it before it is born.
Thank you Deborah.
Thank you, Yael! I’m so glad you liked it.
As inspirational as J. K. Rowling herself – thanks Deb!
Thank you! 😉
Thank you Deborah! This was so wonderfully written and just what I needed to read as a creative being at this stage of my journey. Hats off to you. Be Brave… Be You… And share that with the world! 🙂
Jennifer, I’m so happy it was timely. Safe winds and good voices on your journey!
My sweet Debora!!
“Ignoring them is risky. So is listening.” So beautiful. Obrigada for sharing, for beating the resistance. I read your words and get inspired! love ya and beijos, Katia : ))
Obrigada Katia! I’m so happy to hear it. com amor e beijos! :))
I am the least bit surprised at your talent to dance with words on the wall or off – to cause deafness to find an ear for hearing – blind spots leap out of darkness and find big eyes and small visions now more eager than before to give voice to what rumbles beneath the surface of a body of work untold. To inspire is one of your greatest gifts, my dear. You are my J.K. Rowling!
An’Nisa Mansour
Oh An’Nisa…I am humbled and glowing. Thank you. For your unceasing belief in me and my words, and for the exquisite poetry of your praise. One thousand smiles coming your way.
Wonderful post Deborah. It was J.K. Rowling’s belief in Harry Potter, the quality of her writing and the way it captivated my children, that made me decide to believe in myself and the story I wanted to write. I wonder how many other hesitant writers she has inspired and empowered!
Rosemary, I took a peek at your wall. Your story looks lovely! JKR may have inspired, but it’s your belief in yourself that got it written. And now you get to inspire and empower. Isn’t it fabulous how that works? I used to worry a lot about hubris when I was younger, but I began to see how every time we shine, we light the way for someone else to take a risk. Thank you for taking the time to write, there and here.
Deborah, As always your writing enchants and engages me. So much of what you’ve written resonates inside of my psyche. And I agree with with every thought you’ve written here except one: “These stories won’t feed anyone, heal anyone.” Your honesty and insight into the artist’s soul has fed me the sustenance needed to keep pursuing my dreams. Thank you!
Thank you Tara. I think our art, like HP, feeds more than we know. It’s the dark “reasonable” voices that want to deny that. But in the darkest hours, it has often been a song, a poem, a story that has saved me, “fed” me. And I have been so grateful to the writer, the singer for not backing away. One of the things I love about the internet is this kind of exchange. Writing and reading are such solitary pursuits; your comment, and the rest, remind me that the work has work to do, if I just let it. Hugs and blessings.
What an excellent article! You nailed it. We are our own worst enemies. When I think of Rowling, I think of all the other artists who work obsessively. It’s like that “resisitance” you’ve talked about has been surgically removed from them. They MUST write. They MUST paint. They MUST sculpt. A lot of stuff gets in our way — some of it is quite reasonable. I MUST feed my children. I MUST help my sons learn to construct a decent paragraph. I took a self help course a few years ago and one of the main concepts was the idea of unreasonableness. People have accomplished great things because they were UNREASONABLE. This does not mean they weren’t rational. It means that they refused to be stopped in their goals by mere “reasons,” or rationales for not doing it. You’ve hit the nail on the head Deborah. Well done!
Josette
Josette! I love the concept of unreasonableness. That’s fantastic. The antidote to reason! Thank you!
We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit.
Aristotle
What a great quote! Thank you!
Wonderful Deb. Thank you:-)
You are so welcome. Happy that it resonates. 😉
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