The Five Stages of (Writing) Grief

Blessed are they that mourn for they shall be comforted.

Well, I wish today I could bring you something smart and helpful about writing a great novel. But quite frankly, I’m just not in the mood. True confession time. I’ve actually been pretty bummed out about writing lately.

Recently, some bad news I’d received a few weeks ago finally hit me, and I spent about two hours crying. (Which I hate doing because I’m loud and pathetic and not very pretty when I cry.) Now this book is not necessarily “dead” yet. I’m working on a revision which might make a difference. And even if it doesn’t, the novel might work for later in my career. Nonetheless, my initial high hopes for the original version have been laid to rest.

For writers, our novels are like children. We love and cherish each one. And it can be devastating to see one perish on any level. So why did it take me weeks to give into my crying fit? I think I was working through the five stages of grief (not to be mistaken with the seven stages that didn’t seem to quite fit my way of dealing with things.)

The five stages of grief were initially formulated for people dealing with terminal illness, but over time have been expanded to apply to any form of catastrophic loss. And they certainly applied to my experience with this book.

When I first informed the Inkies about this bad news I was in denial. “It’s no big deal. I’ll get it fixed. I just need to take out some of the grittier historical aspects. I don’t mind that at all.”

Then I went through a period of anger, which I won’t go into great detail about because it does not necessarily speak well of me, although it’s a normal stage. Suffice to say, at least I had the wisdom only to vent to a very few friends, and only one at a time.

And I think my anger stage kind of overlapped with my bargaining stage because all along I kept working on that new version which I hoped would work out. I changed everything I possibly could without having the entire plot fall apart. Anything to keep from having to go back to the drawing board and start over with a new idea.

Now I tend to get stuck in the anger or the bargaining stage. Or in a loop between the two. I’ll just stay mad because mad feels safe. I’m in control. And I’ll keep fighting and bargaining until I somehow make it work. Since, after all, this is a novel we’re talking about, not a terminal illness. And I tend to do this in life in general.

Funny thing is, my fiery red-headed heroine of said novel, Constance Cavendish, likes to hold onto her anger as well. We have a lot in common in that area. But she learned a lesson or two about it in the book.

Last year I learned an important lesson too. Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted. When you’re angry, no one’s going to comfort you. Not even God seems able to break through and do that. You have to let yourself experience stage four. You have to mourn before you can truly start to heal and get better. You have to mourn before people will rally around you and encourage you. The fourth stage is actually called depression, and while we can’t let ourselves get mired there for too long, we have to let ourselves feel it. A time to mourn and a time to dance. One of my favorite scriptures, although you know I prefer the boogie on down aspect.

The final stage is acceptance. In my case acceptance says, this novel may or may not work out. It may work out later rather than sooner. And if so, I need to figure out a way to be okay with that. And if so, I need to come up with another idea and keep trying.

I realize in the greater scheme of things having a book rejected is not a major life crisis. But it sure feels that way. And sometimes we as writers need to grieve in order to move on.

How do you deal with grief, writing or otherwise? Any tips for getting through it?

Will Beauty Save the World?

One thing I ask from the LORD,
   this only do I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
   all the days of my life,
to gaze on the beauty of the LORD
   and to seek him in his temple. ~ Psalm 27:4

The quote "Beauty will save the world," is attributed to Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Is this true? And if so, what does it mean for us as Christians? I’ve really been delving into the concepts of art and beauty lately. They are primary ways I connect to God, one might say to the divine. I believe that this generation is not merely looking for a logical, rational faith with sound systematic theology, but rather for beauty and wonder and relationship with the creator of the universe.

Just look at the popularity of flash mobs lately. Does anyone watch those videos of uplifting spiritual songs and dances and say, “Why are you trying to shove your religion down our throats”? Not that I’ve heard of. Do the performers get accused of being close-minded or judgmental. I think not. Art has a way of transcending our preconceptions and going straight to the heart. It’s the perfect means of introducing the world to the beauty of God.

In my last post I recommended a novel which accomplishes just that called The Oppposite of Art. And I also mentioned two books released last year with the same title as the Dostoevsky quote, Beauty Will Save the World. The version by Professor Gregory Wolfe is a sort of treatise on Christianity and the humanities. I haven’t had the pleasure of reading it yet. But since it recently came out on kindle, I do hope to check it out soon.

The one I have read is Beauty Will Save the World is by Pastor Brian Zhand. He takes more of a theological approach, asserting that Christians have somehow managed to get things all wrong. That Christianity was never meant to be about power and politics but about beauty and love. He begins the book with the story of a Russian prince from a thousand years ago who was looking for a new religion for his people. The prince sent envoys to study other religions of the world. Here is the report he received about Christianity in Constantinople.

Then we went to Constantinople and they led us to the place where they worship their God, and we knew not whether we were in heaven or earth, for on earth there is no such vision nor beauty, and we do not know how to describe it; we only know that God dwells among men. We cannot forget that beauty.

And so Prince Vladimer adopted Christianity as the new religion of Russia. This is the sort of Christianity that draws people to it like a magnet. Where is that Christianity today? All too often I think it is missing. But thank goodness, it seems to be on the rise.

Zhand challenges the reader to be a prophetic people ushering the kingdom of God here on earth even now. And to do so largely by living according to the Beatitudes, that very inconvenient and impractical sermon of Jesus’ that we would probably rather brush under the table.

So I spent the last few weeks immersed in a novel about art and a theological book about beauty, but that wasn’t all. I also read Heart of an Artist by Worship Leader Rory Noland. This book helped me to better understand myself as an artist. Both my weaknesses and my strengths. Too often artists are looked down upon in Christianity. Like the Beatitudes, we are viewed as impractical and inconvenient. Volatile people. But God made artists with a distinctive sensitivity to bring special messages to His people. To bring the wonders of the spiritual universe just a bit closer to our grasp through song, dance, paintings, poetry, etc… To bring a little piece of heaven here to earth.

Will beauty save the world? Not beauty for beauty’s sake. But beauty that gently woos people to the savior of the world. That sort of beauty most certainly will. Whether you consider yourself an “artist” or not, let’s all challenge ourselves to be conduits of beauty. To be a prophetic people bringing beautiful glimpses of heaven to earth. To do justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with our God. Not shoving our morals and theologies down people’s throats. Rather introducing to them to the unparalleled wonder of our savior. Let’s do so in our writing, in our art, and in our lives. 

What beautiful things have touched you lately? What draws you closer to God? How can you be a conduit for beauty?