Notes on Vocation
Webster defines of vocation as “a summons or strong inclination to a particular state or course of action” or as “the work in which a person is employed. Occupation.” Murikami wrote about the second but what I wanted to hear about was the first – the calling to write.
I’ve been thinking about Murakami’s Novelist as Vocation lately. Or more specifically, I’ve been thinking about the kind of book I wanted it to be. See he didn’t touch much on writing as a vocation at all. He talked about his inspiration, the moment he knew he wanted to write a book. And he talked about his occupation of writing and translating books – the how, and when, and where, and sometime why of it. But he didn’t really touch on vocation.
According to Miriam Webster the primary definition of vocation is “a summons or strong inclination to a particular state or course of action. especially : a divine call to the religious life,” and it’s second definition is “the work in which a person is employed. Occupation.” Murikami wrote about the second definition. And what I wanted to hear about was the first – the calling of writing.
So that leads me to two thoughts. First, I now understand the vague disappointment I felt when I finished his book. The title made a promise that the book didn’t deliver for me. I was expecting a book about vocation, and I mostly read a book that was about occupation. Lesson to self: figure out where your book is promising something it doesn’t deliver.
Second, I’ve been thinking about what I wanted to hear about that call. The word vocation implies a need to complete a task so forceful that it can move you across mountains and through dark times. Whether you feel that as an internal or external force, force is the operative word. Implacable. Inevitable. Unignorable.
A call is something that wrecks your life if you turn your back on it. Think Jonah and the Whale. Think dwarves descending on Bilbo. Think Luke standing before a burning moisture farm (RIP Ben and Martha). If writing is your vocation, you don’t just write when and where you want to. You write, period. Or else. Because not writing would be worse than facing the blank page and the possible ridicule and the sore back and the questions about what you are doing with your life.
I think another thing that bothered me about Writing as Vocation, was the downplay of the struggle to write. It is, I think, theoretically possible that Murikami does not struggle in his work. If not, more power to him. But I’m not sure that is useful to the rest of us mortals. I am not from the “you must suffer for your art” camp, but I am discovering that I do believe you need to struggle for it. At least internally. It is the struggle that makes the achievement satisfying. Even if it is simply a struggle to figure out what the hell you want to say.
So, how do you figure out if writing is a vocation for you? I won’t say you’ll just know. We all have our refusal of the call moments, when a reader of our lives might be screaming “get on with it!” But ask yourself this:
- When was the last time something hard felt suddenly easy? Like the way was now smooth. When the resistance fell away?
- What will make it worth the struggle?
- What keeps you returning to the page?
- What are you afraid to say that you think the world needs to hear anyway?
The call might come slowly. It might take you time to formulate exactly what the call is for. But if you've read this far, the call is there for you somwhere. Taking the time to articulate it might just clear some of the obstructions in your life. And it might get those pesky Dwarves out of your kitchen too.
Happy writing. - EM
