Last Updated On August 13, 2014

 

This piece was written as preparation for an interview called "The Emergence of a Writer" on Radio Praxis with Yamila Fournier

 

 

Listen to interview here.
Episode 35

I have always been a writer. A reader and a writer. But writing has always been my preferred medium of expression. When I was a kid, I’d bring notebooks with me and write random stories, often historical fiction or teen romance. That was my prehistoric version of an iphone or other handheld device. My grandmother would equip me with pens and notebooks to keep me busy during visits. The smell of new paper, its neatly shaven sides of so many virgin sheets, to this day gets me excited. I wrote lengthy notes neatly folded into triangles for friends, letters to pen pals sealed with precious stickers. I was always reading. Some books were very deliberate and some were whatever I could lay my hands on wherever I was. Some I drank like water and others were reread over and over. Fiction and nonfiction alike, many open books at a time, an upstairs book, a downstairs book, a car book… My days were often given a first person narration treatment in my head like a Judy Blume or Paula Danziger novel. I enjoyed doing a lot of things and was blessed with many opportunities but writing was always my most natural and fluid enterprise.

But for some reason, as I got older, writing got sublimated. The joy was shifted to compulsory production for school. The pressure felt great and it snuffed out that flame, or least kept it underground for a while. I don’t know why I couldn’t let writing become legitimated in my life. Its not like I had other prospects crowding it out. Its not like anybody was discouraging me. But there was an element of fear. Fear of failure, fear of success. It was something too dear for exposure to the elements. What if it turned out I sucked at something that I enjoyed for its own sake? There were really very few things in my life then and now that fill that role. It still scares the crap out of me to share my writing, for fear it will be broken. I don’t know when exactly writing became fraught with self-doubt, when that schism commenced but I am now on a journey to reconnect to the place of creativity and joy experienced as a child.

It was the arrival of the internet in my life that awoke my writing beast- in emails, in responses in online forums. People started encouraging me, asking for more, sharing what I wrote. Having never really had direct feedback on my writing other than grades I got for compulsory writing at school, I was pretty jazzed! And mystified. It still didn’t feel real to me. Its like people were mistaking me for a writer. It was fun and cool and I loved being able to connect with people but I didn’t believe it. I’m slow to evolve. I don’t catch on quickly. I’m so glad to have really smart, intuitive people in my life who care about me and know me better than I know myself. Because otherwise, I would spend a lot of time, even more time, in the weeds. My loved ones are patient and tireless in their encouragement. Thank goodness.

Its interesting that you asked me whether we should focus on my parenting style or my writing. It gave me pause because for me, the two are so interrelated. My parenting was a huge anchor for me in IF’s creation. It was the font I tapped into. All that unschooling energy isn’t just for children, its a gift to me as well. A gift to the future me. In my adult life, my most creative and transformative project has been my children, my home, and my marriage. The energy my family provides doesn’t detract from my efforts, it enhances it. The more I can channel that womb energy, the better.

Honestly blogging was not a natural fit. I’ve never regularly followed blogs. Many are related to a very limited scope of content, many are not very well written or even interesting, and many seem more geared toward sales. I deemed the blogosphere not my thing. Interestingly “not my thing” is usually what happens right before something becomes “my thing”. I had an initial failed blog attempt. Maybe not a fail? Maybe I was getting my feet wet. But at the time, I couldn’t connect with the medium, I couldn’t make it flower. It wasn’t the right time. My vision wasn’t clear. But I was still drawn to an internet presence. I appreciated the accessibility and the flexibility and the sharing that happens online. Nothing is in isolation, its all part of a web, and thats exactly how I tick. Perhaps thats the paradigm shift I needed to happen before I could settle in. I needed to truly appreciate and come to terms with the online medium before I could see how a blog is a beginning. I was able to pull it into my concept and I think thats what makes Illuminous Flux strong. The blog label no longer bullies me, I shape it to fit my craft. I have total investment in every aspect, coming from an artist/visionary perspective- NOT from scarcity, NOT from “not good enough”. For some reason I am able to leave that thinking at the door with IF. And I’ve also become more open and inquisitive about other blogs. Since I’m no longer feeling as stuck and heavy with my own stuff, I am more free and open and relishing the creations of others more than ever. I’m trying to remember this lesson when faced with my own negativity about certain things. Its always about me. Always.

Thanks to my techy husband, I was able to retrofit my blog to fit my vision precisely. This was so important and I am so thankful for his support. The concept is more portfolio than blog. No dates, no months, no traditional organizing of material, and no overarching theme that would serve to hem me in or define my work in a narrow way. Structures were built in to include contributors and other forms of self-expression (art work, photography, videos, music) in a great swirl of creation and sharing and making connections and just…appreciation. So its not about a big thing but all the little things. And it is beautiful.

I’ve always been sensitive to the connections between things. I’m a thinker, a dreamer. Images come to me or like a string of pearls, ideas and experiences click together in a new way. In my crazy mind it all makes sense but thats where the craft comes in- molding it into something, if not cohesive, at least transferable. And then sharing, which is so much fun.

Feedback has been wonderful and very motivating for me. I am continually inspired by the people who take an active interest in my work. I’m inspired by what they say, what they create, what they do, who they are, and my relationship with them. These gems have definitely made their way into my psyche and my writing but I wouldn’t describe my content as “audience driven”. I could absolutely purposefully target homeschoolers, the autism community, or parents with my pieces. And I would probably get more circulation and attention, a broader appeal through more narrow, customized content. But right now, I’m not about that life. I am a baby in a lot of ways- learning to trust the process, following my bliss, and developing my voice. I’m where I’m meant to be and I’m not going to interfere with what I see as a very important stage of my personal and professional growth.

A couple months ago I got an email from an artist/writer friend of a friend who read my blog and loved it. He said such nice things. And he said he googled “Nora Snyder writer Ithaca NY” and could only find a personal facebook page and some homeschooling stuff. My first thought set off fireworks in my brain as I clapped my hand over my mouth- he thinks I’m REAL??!! It was thrilling.

 

Last Updated On August 13, 2014

 

This piece was written as preparation for an interview called "The Emergence of a Writer" on Radio Praxis with Yamila Fournier

 

Listen to interview here.
Episode 35

I have always been a writer. A reader and a writer. But writing has always been my preferred medium of expression. When I was a kid, I’d bring notebooks with me and write random stories, often historical fiction or teen romance. That was my prehistoric version of an iphone or other handheld device. My grandmother would equip me with pens and notebooks to keep me busy during visits. The smell of new paper, its neatly shaven sides of so many virgin sheets, to this day gets me excited. I wrote lengthy notes neatly folded into triangles for friends, letters to pen pals sealed with precious stickers. I was always reading. Some books were very deliberate and some were whatever I could lay my hands on wherever I was. Some I drank like water and others were reread over and over. Fiction and nonfiction alike, many open books at a time, an upstairs book, a downstairs book, a car book… My days were often given a first person narration treatment in my head like a Judy Blume or Paula Danziger novel. I enjoyed doing a lot of things and was blessed with many opportunities but writing was always my most natural and fluid enterprise.

But for some reason, as I got older, writing got sublimated. The joy was shifted to compulsory production for school. The pressure felt great and it snuffed out that flame, or least kept it underground for a while. I don’t know why I couldn’t let writing become legitimated in my life. Its not like I had other prospects crowding it out. Its not like anybody was discouraging me. But there was an element of fear. Fear of failure, fear of success. It was something too dear for exposure to the elements. What if it turned out I sucked at something that I enjoyed for its own sake? There were really very few things in my life then and now that fill that role. It still scares the crap out of me to share my writing, for fear it will be broken. I don’t know when exactly writing became fraught with self-doubt, when that schism commenced but I am now on a journey to reconnect to the place of creativity and joy experienced as a child.

It was the arrival of the internet in my life that awoke my writing beast- in emails, in responses in online forums. People started encouraging me, asking for more, sharing what I wrote. Having never really had direct feedback on my writing other than grades I got for compulsory writing at school, I was pretty jazzed! And mystified. It still didn’t feel real to me. Its like people were mistaking me for a writer. It was fun and cool and I loved being able to connect with people but I didn’t believe it. I’m slow to evolve. I don’t catch on quickly. I’m so glad to have really smart, intuitive people in my life who care about me and know me better than I know myself. Because otherwise, I would spend a lot of time, even more time, in the weeds. My loved ones are patient and tireless in their encouragement. Thank goodness.

Its interesting that you asked me whether we should focus on my parenting style or my writing. It gave me pause because for me, the two are so interrelated. My parenting was a huge anchor for me in IF’s creation. It was the font I tapped into. All that unschooling energy isn’t just for children, its a gift to me as well. A gift to the future me. In my adult life, my most creative and transformative project has been my children, my home, and my marriage. The energy my family provides doesn’t detract from my efforts, it enhances it. The more I can channel that womb energy, the better.

Honestly blogging was not a natural fit. I’ve never regularly followed blogs. Many are related to a very limited scope of content, many are not very well written or even interesting, and many seem more geared toward sales. I deemed the blogosphere not my thing. Interestingly “not my thing” is usually what happens right before something becomes “my thing”. I had an initial failed blog attempt. Maybe not a fail? Maybe I was getting my feet wet. But at the time, I couldn’t connect with the medium, I couldn’t make it flower. It wasn’t the right time. My vision wasn’t clear. But I was still drawn to an internet presence. I appreciated the accessibility and the flexibility and the sharing that happens online. Nothing is in isolation, its all part of a web, and thats exactly how I tick. Perhaps thats the paradigm shift I needed to happen before I could settle in. I needed to truly appreciate and come to terms with the online medium before I could see how a blog is a beginning. I was able to pull it into my concept and I think thats what makes Illuminous Flux strong. The blog label no longer bullies me, I shape it to fit my craft. I have total investment in every aspect, coming from an artist/visionary perspective- NOT from scarcity, NOT from “not good enough”. For some reason I am able to leave that thinking at the door with IF. And I’ve also become more open and inquisitive about other blogs. Since I’m no longer feeling as stuck and heavy with my own stuff, I am more free and open and relishing the creations of others more than ever. I’m trying to remember this lesson when faced with my own negativity about certain things. Its always about me. Always.

Thanks to my techy husband, I was able to retrofit my blog to fit my vision precisely. This was so important and I am so thankful for his support. The concept is more portfolio than blog. No dates, no months, no traditional organizing of material, and no overarching theme that would serve to hem me in or define my work in a narrow way. Structures were built in to include contributors and other forms of self-expression (art work, photography, videos, music) in a great swirl of creation and sharing and making connections and just…appreciation. So its not about a big thing but all the little things. And it is beautiful.

I’ve always been sensitive to the connections between things. I’m a thinker, a dreamer. Images come to me or like a string of pearls, ideas and experiences click together in a new way. In my crazy mind it all makes sense but thats where the craft comes in- molding it into something, if not cohesive, at least transferable. And then sharing, which is so much fun.

Feedback has been wonderful and very motivating for me. I am continually inspired by the people who take an active interest in my work. I’m inspired by what they say, what they create, what they do, who they are, and my relationship with them. These gems have definitely made their way into my psyche and my writing but I wouldn’t describe my content as “audience driven”. I could absolutely purposefully target homeschoolers, the autism community, or parents with my pieces. And I would probably get more circulation and attention, a broader appeal through more narrow, customized content. But right now, I’m not about that life. I am a baby in a lot of ways- learning to trust the process, following my bliss, and developing my voice. I’m where I’m meant to be and I’m not going to interfere with what I see as a very important stage of my personal and professional growth.

A couple months ago I got an email from an artist/writer friend of a friend who read my blog and loved it. He said such nice things. And he said he googled “Nora Snyder writer Ithaca NY” and could only find a personal facebook page and some homeschooling stuff. My first thought set off fireworks in my brain as I clapped my hand over my mouth- he thinks I’m REAL??!! It was thrilling.

Last Updated On August 13, 2014

This piece was written as preparation for an interview called "The Emergence of a Writer" on Radio Praxis with Yamila Fournier

Listen to interview here.
Episode 35

I have always been a writer. A reader and a writer. But writing has always been my preferred medium of expression. When I was a kid, I’d bring notebooks with me and write random stories, often historical fiction or teen romance. That was my prehistoric version of an iphone or other handheld device. My grandmother would equip me with pens and notebooks to keep me busy during visits. The smell of new paper, its neatly shaven sides of so many virgin sheets, to this day gets me excited. I wrote lengthy notes neatly folded into triangles for friends, letters to pen pals sealed with precious stickers. I was always reading. Some books were very deliberate and some were whatever I could lay my hands on wherever I was. Some I drank like water and others were reread over and over. Fiction and nonfiction alike, many open books at a time, an upstairs book, a downstairs book, a car book… My days were often given a first person narration treatment in my head like a Judy Blume or Paula Danziger novel. I enjoyed doing a lot of things and was blessed with many opportunities but writing was always my most natural and fluid enterprise.

But for some reason, as I got older, writing got sublimated. The joy was shifted to compulsory production for school. The pressure felt great and it snuffed out that flame, or least kept it underground for a while. I don’t know why I couldn’t let writing become legitimated in my life. Its not like I had other prospects crowding it out. Its not like anybody was discouraging me. But there was an element of fear. Fear of failure, fear of success. It was something too dear for exposure to the elements. What if it turned out I sucked at something that I enjoyed for its own sake? There were really very few things in my life then and now that fill that role. It still scares the crap out of me to share my writing, for fear it will be broken. I don’t know when exactly writing became fraught with self-doubt, when that schism commenced but I am now on a journey to reconnect to the place of creativity and joy experienced as a child.

It was the arrival of the internet in my life that awoke my writing beast- in emails, in responses in online forums. People started encouraging me, asking for more, sharing what I wrote. Having never really had direct feedback on my writing other than grades I got for compulsory writing at school, I was pretty jazzed! And mystified. It still didn’t feel real to me. Its like people were mistaking me for a writer. It was fun and cool and I loved being able to connect with people but I didn’t believe it. I’m slow to evolve. I don’t catch on quickly. I’m so glad to have really smart, intuitive people in my life who care about me and know me better than I know myself. Because otherwise, I would spend a lot of time, even more time, in the weeds. My loved ones are patient and tireless in their encouragement. Thank goodness.

Its interesting that you asked me whether we should focus on my parenting style or my writing. It gave me pause because for me, the two are so interrelated. My parenting was a huge anchor for me in IF’s creation. It was the font I tapped into. All that unschooling energy isn’t just for children, its a gift to me as well. A gift to the future me. In my adult life, my most creative and transformative project has been my children, my home, and my marriage. The energy my family provides doesn’t detract from my efforts, it enhances it. The more I can channel that womb energy, the better.

Honestly blogging was not a natural fit. I’ve never regularly followed blogs. Many are related to a very limited scope of content, many are not very well written or even interesting, and many seem more geared toward sales. I deemed the blogosphere not my thing. Interestingly “not my thing” is usually what happens right before something becomes “my thing”. I had an initial failed blog attempt. Maybe not a fail? Maybe I was getting my feet wet. But at the time, I couldn’t connect with the medium, I couldn’t make it flower. It wasn’t the right time. My vision wasn’t clear. But I was still drawn to an internet presence. I appreciated the accessibility and the flexibility and the sharing that happens online. Nothing is in isolation, its all part of a web, and thats exactly how I tick. Perhaps thats the paradigm shift I needed to happen before I could settle in. I needed to truly appreciate and come to terms with the online medium before I could see how a blog is a beginning. I was able to pull it into my concept and I think thats what makes Illuminous Flux strong. The blog label no longer bullies me, I shape it to fit my craft. I have total investment in every aspect, coming from an artist/visionary perspective- NOT from scarcity, NOT from “not good enough”. For some reason I am able to leave that thinking at the door with IF. And I’ve also become more open and inquisitive about other blogs. Since I’m no longer feeling as stuck and heavy with my own stuff, I am more free and open and relishing the creations of others more than ever. I’m trying to remember this lesson when faced with my own negativity about certain things. Its always about me. Always.

Thanks to my techy husband, I was able to retrofit my blog to fit my vision precisely. This was so important and I am so thankful for his support. The concept is more portfolio than blog. No dates, no months, no traditional organizing of material, and no overarching theme that would serve to hem me in or define my work in a narrow way. Structures were built in to include contributors and other forms of self-expression (art work, photography, videos, music) in a great swirl of creation and sharing and making connections and just…appreciation. So its not about a big thing but all the little things. And it is beautiful.

I’ve always been sensitive to the connections between things. I’m a thinker, a dreamer. Images come to me or like a string of pearls, ideas and experiences click together in a new way. In my crazy mind it all makes sense but thats where the craft comes in- molding it into something, if not cohesive, at least transferable. And then sharing, which is so much fun.

Feedback has been wonderful and very motivating for me. I am continually inspired by the people who take an active interest in my work. I’m inspired by what they say, what they create, what they do, who they are, and my relationship with them. These gems have definitely made their way into my psyche and my writing but I wouldn’t describe my content as “audience driven”. I could absolutely purposefully target homeschoolers, the autism community, or parents with my pieces. And I would probably get more circulation and attention, a broader appeal through more narrow, customized content. But right now, I’m not about that life. I am a baby in a lot of ways- learning to trust the process, following my bliss, and developing my voice. I’m where I’m meant to be and I’m not going to interfere with what I see as a very important stage of my personal and professional growth.

A couple months ago I got an email from an artist/writer friend of a friend who read my blog and loved it. He said such nice things. And he said he googled “Nora Snyder writer Ithaca NY” and could only find a personal facebook page and some homeschooling stuff. My first thought set off fireworks in my brain as I clapped my hand over my mouth- he thinks I’m REAL??!! It was thrilling.

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