Wands Spotlight: Charlotte Clymer

I've long admired Charlotte Clymer. Her online presence – a combination of witty commentary, speaking truth to power, and very funny jokes – was one of the reasons I stayed on Twitter as long as I did (I did eventually leave, though, and subscribed to Charlotte's newsletter instead). We met in person through our mutual friend, Amber Tamblyn, at an Emily's List event. I've now gotten to hang out with Charlotte a bunch and she's as thoughtful, smart, and funny in person as she is online.

Charlotte served in the Army, and one of my favorite genre of Charlotte's writing is "Charlotte teaches craven assholes about real patriotism." She's worked at the Human Rights Campaign and Catholics for Choice, among other organizations doing good and necessary work. Charlotte's an outspoken activist, a great writer, and an all-around bad ass.

Her writing can be found at Charlotte’s Web Thoughts, an award-winning, bestselling blog on politics, religion, and culture.

I loved getting a glimpse into her process, and I think you will too!

How would you describe yourself? Do you use the word “artist”? Do you use another word?

I very rarely describe myself as an artist. I think it’s possible my generation were the last to take a circumscribed view of artistry, and in terms of writing, that only meant fiction and poetry. It took me a long time to recognize artistry in its endless forms. Can opinion writers, political writers, non-fiction writers be artists in their mediums? Yes, of course, and I am an artist, but I’m still more comfortable using the word “writer” and leaving it at that.

How do you know when it’s time to move out of the envisioning/brainstorming/inspiration gathering process and get to work?

I wish I were methodical enough to gather all the pieces, but most of the time, it simply begins with a flash of inspiration. I’ll latch onto an idea and start writing. Sometimes, it’s so sudden and undeniable that I drop everything and get to work. On rare occasions, I’ll have a kernel of an idea and kick it around in my head for weeks, sometimes months, and suddenly, it’ll come into fuller shape.

Are you a planner/outliner? Is your process more intuitive? How did you discover a process that worked for you? And have you ever worked differently?

I am definitely not a planner/outliner. I would love to be one, but that’s not my process. I will usually write an essay in full and then go through it numerous times, tweaking, moving things around, fact checking, subtracting or adding, and finally get to a draft that looks great. And then, I do it again. By the time I publish an essay, it’s been through the wringer. Maybe it starts with intuition and gets raked across the coals with reason.

If you’re working on a piece of art/writing, and you suddenly get a new idea, how do you deal with that interruption? And how do you determine whether that new idea belongs in this piece or a different one? If you’ve mapped out how something is supposed to be, do you ever divert from the plan?

I have a bad habit of attempting to cram several ideas into one essay, and sometimes, I have to take a step back and recognize that individual ideas can be great but not necessarily interlocking into a more cohesive whole. Most of the time, if I’m being honest with myself, the flow of a piece is inherent, and if great ideas are at odds with each other tonally or conceptually, it’s obvious to the ear. It’s rare that I don’t have to take that step back.

Can you describe the worst part of your creative process? Which step do you enjoy the least?

I struggle to reconcile that feeling of anxiety when I’m writing something and I’m not certain of how it’s gonna land. If I’m writing it, I feel confident that it needs to be said, but there are times when I’m about to publish and I’m still unsure how folks are gonna receive it. The step I enjoy the least is that moment when I’ve finished a great second or third (or fourth) draft, and I know I need to go through it again. Sometimes, I wanna just publish and be done with it, but the essay–and the idea within it–deserves more than that. 

What is your favorite part of the creative process and why?

Sometimes, I get an exceptional idea for an essay, and I know deep in my bones that it’s going to resonate. I crave that feeling. It’s self-powering. Everything after that is pure energy and enthusiasm driving through to the finished product.

How active is your inner critic in your process? How do you deal with your inner critic? Does he/she ever have anything helpful to say? Do you have any tips for how to silence them?

When it comes to my writing, I no longer have much of an inner critic. There was a time when a very loud voice within me would be discouraging, but I’ve been fortunate enough to have the kind of outside support that has silenced that inner turmoil. I will say that I have an internal best friend who asks the right kinds of questions to ensure the highest quality in my writing, and I’ve learned to listen to that constructive criticism. Well… most of the time.

Tell me a story of creative conflict, either internally or in a collaboration. How did you work through the conflict? Is creative friction or conflict something that you seek out in a creative process, or try to avoid?

I think conflict is good for creativity. That’s where the truth exists. If I’m uncomfortable writing something because of the idea itself, I know I’ve hit on something important. That could mean I’m wrong and haven’t thought it through properly, and it could mean I’m on the verge of something that requires discomfort to arrive at something folks need to hear. My best writing–and my most creative work–is fueled by discomfort. I believe discomfort is a gift. It means we have learning (and unlearning) to do.

How do you deal with burnout?

If I have a good idea and the general argument to flesh it out but the words just aren’t coming, I know it’s an issue of creativity and time to walk away for a bit. It used to frustrate me, and I’ve experienced enough moments of spontaneous creativity after walking away for a little time that I’ve come to trust that process. The best way to alleviate burnout is to have enough faith in yourself to create fire again after dousing the embers you have. Maybe artistry is knowing the spark is always there.

What is your spiritual/psychological relationship to your work?

I’m a Christian, and in our society of information shortcuts, simply stating that is going to mean different things to different people, much of it valid based on their personal experiences, which I would never invalidate. But for me, faith is an especially useful lens for clarity in moments of obfuscation. It’s not the only lens I use, far from it, but it does offer me more facets for examination of my work than I would have otherwise.

Do you enjoy collaboration or are you more of a solo artist? Is there a story you could tell me about how you came to understand this about yourself?

I have an unusual process, and it tends to be internal. So, it’s much harder for me to collaborate with others on a project. But that’s on me. That’s an area of personal weakness. I’ve had to learn how to open up my internal creative process to the perspectives of others when it’s necessary. At the same time, it also makes me more empathetic to the processes of other artists. When I collaborate on a writing project, it’s especially critical for me to constantly take a 30,000 ft. view of the objective and how collaborators are necessarily covering angles I may not have considered.

What is your ideal creative environment?

I write best at night. There’s something about writing in the middle of the night that’s permeated with inspiration. Maybe it’s because the world is temporarily calmer in my corner of the world. Most folks are sleeping, the dark covers our patch of the earth in a blanket. It’s oddly comforting in a way that spurns creativity in me.

Can you tell me a story of a time that you got to say “I told you so” creatively? Where you stuck to your guns and turned out to be right?

There’s nothing I love more than subverting expectations in my writing but doing so in a way that invites people into opinions they may have initially rejected, even unconsciously. When Guz Walz–the teenage son of Gwen Walz and Gov. Walz–was mocked for his sweet emotional response to his father’s DNC speech, I was a bit put off by the sympathy I saw on display from many in the public because it felt condescending. So, I wrote an essay explaining why I don’t feel sorry for him but rather admire the young man and believe others should, too. It went viral because of the widespread realization of folks that, yes, maybe they were infantilizing this young man when they should have been praising his strength and vulnerability.

Have you ever stuck to your guns and turned out to be wrong? How did you handle that?

I once drafted a commentary for CBS Sunday Morning in which I took input from a half dozen different parties. When I sent it to the producer, he rejected it outright and said: “It sounds like it’s been written by committee.” And I was more than a little annoyed by his response, but when I took a step back, I realized he was absolutely right. So, I rewrote the whole thing from an authentic, personal touch, and it remains one of the better things I’ve ever written.

What is the bravest thing you’ve ever done creatively?

Going against the grain is always brave to some extent. Because most folks (correctly) view me as a progressive, they sometimes (incorrectly) expect me to agree with other progressives on everything. I think the bravest any artist can do–regardless of medium–is challenge those who usually agree with them. I’m not a fan of contrarians, of course, but I’m a huge fan of people who are willing to rationally and respectfully challenge conventional thinking.

Have you ever had a burst of inspiration where your creative process has felt like channeling? Where something artistic feels like it is pouring out of you, quicker than you can even process it? Do you have any idea how or why that happened?

Absolutely, and it’s usually driven by something highly emotional. I have found best that I’m most creative when I’m angry over an injustice. Perhaps by channeling anger into my writing, I’m simultaneously channeling a commensurate creativity. 

What is your relationship to deadlines? Do you love them? Hate them? Why?

I would love to be a person who loves deadlines for the structure they’re intended to provide, but I wound up fearing them more than finding them useful. 

What is the best piece of creative advice you’ve ever gotten?

Creativity is most effectively borne out of authenticity. “Just be yourself” may seem like a well-worn cliche, but it’s absolutely true. 

What is the best piece of creative advice you’ve given?

Write about something that most moves you in a given moment. Use your feelings to your creative advantage.

Have you ever had a creative failure? What did you learn from it?

I recently published a satirical essay that was loved by some fans and hated by other fans, and I realized, quite quickly, that good intent is simply not enough when writing. That could probably be said for life generally, of course. You can have the greatest idea in the world, but if you don’t know how to communicate it, how can you expect others to see what you do?