Striving to find the voice of what I'm writing

River Selby joins Cave of the Heart and answers 6 questions on self-trust

Dec 18, 2023

Welcome to Cave of the Heart, an interview series where writers trust-fall into the depths of inner-knowing, creativity, and the craft of writing. Are you ready to get curious about the cultivation of self-trust, give a warm nod to our child selves, and celebrate inspiration in all forms? Come with us into the cave of the heart.

River Selby (they/them)

is a nonbinary autistic writer and current PhD candidate in English and creative writing. They spent their twenties working as a wildland firefighter. Now they love going for walks, gardening, reading, hanging out with their cat, Edna, and traveling whenever they get the chance. They write the newsletter Navel Gazing.

Describe the setting where you’re answering these questions.

I am currently sitting at a little outdoor table on my patio. It’s an abnormally gloomy day in Florida so I’m enjoying the cool weather and drizzle. I think all the plants are loving it, too.

Childhood

Q: As a child, were you allowed to have differing opinions from your family/caretakers?

Oh gosh, this is such a complicated question for me but I’m here for it. As a young child I remember my contrary opinions being received as funny, but there was a turning point, perhaps around the age of eight or nine, when it became clear that I needed to agree with my mom (my dad wasn’t around). Or, maybe it didn’t just become clear. I think that over the span of a few years I learned to stop sharing my opinions, observations, and needs with my mother, because she had a very hard time seeing me as separate from her and would often get upset if I veered too far away from her views of the world, or her ideas of who I should be, both personality-wise but also physically.

I learned to watch her very closely, which is something I now understand as hypervigilance. When she was in a good mood, I could be something close to myself, but if she was tired, or in a bad mood, I did whatever I could to keep her from falling over the edge into anger or despair. I almost see my younger self as a kind of blob; I wasn’t allowed to be defined, because I felt like I needed to constantly reshape myself in order to try and keep her moods relatively stable. So I learned to offer myself up in this way and quite honestly was never allowed to develop a real sense of who I was until much later in life, after her death when I was twenty-nine.

Influences

Q: If you had to choose one person from your past that most influenced who you are today, who would that be and why? This can be a person from history, an animal, a fictitious character in a book, TV or movie.

I was always drawn to strong women. My grandmother, for one, was a recovered addict and alcoholic and also a lover of literature and poetry. We were very close and she saw me as a writer long before I could. She was and still is my biggest influence in a very profound way.

In elementary school I dressed up as Amelia Earhart and did a class report on her. I loved that she flew planes on her own and seemed unattached to men (even if that was partially untrue). I also idolized Sally Ride, the first American woman to fly to space, and loved Mary Lennox of The Secret Garden. I could relate to her isolation. Emily Dickinson was my first beloved poet. I remember my grandma telling me that she spent so much time alone in her room. Maya Angelou was my first real love as a preteen reader. Maybe I related to these women and characters because I was an only child with a single mother and not many friends, but I had a natural sense of independence and a real belief that I could also transcend my upbringing, like many of them did.

Creative Spark

Q: What do you think about the concept of a “creative spark”? Is it something we all have access to?

I think we all have access to creativity and ideas. So much of it is about permission. Some of us are told or shown from a very young age that our thoughts, ideas, and insights are valuable. Others, not so much. It’s not always an intuitive process. I think there are also cultural ideas of what’s worthy of being written about or created, or what we have permission to write about. People whose lives or experiences are stigmatized may be fearful of writing about them or unable to access teachers (or therapists) who can help them tap into a place of permission or distance.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, some people may think that none of their experiences are worthy of being written about because they’re too commonplace or not edgy enough. I think what’s so special to me about writing is that anything can be an experience or object of wonder and awe as long as the writer is bringing their whole self to the idea or “creative spark.” Being confident in one’s unique way of seeing things goes a long way, I think, no matter the subject or idea. And we all have the ability, in my opinion, to create new worlds or ideas of worlds, if we can release our ideas of what is possible or impossible.

Writing Process

Q: What one thing do writers most often do that erodes self-trust and they don’t even know it?

I can only speak for myself here, but I think that it is quite easy to lose self-trust as a writer. I’m constantly in the process of regaining trust in myself. Most often I can get lost in how my writing will be received by others too early in the process. I had a mentor who told me: let it be bad. He was speaking especially about the first draft of something. To let it be bad, release any idea of what something needs to be, and not to think of who will read it. That’s what revision is for, those kinds of refinements. But even in revision I must strive to find the voice of what I am writing, whether it’s fiction or nonfiction, and in many ways be fearless of how the piece will be received. Not all writers work this way. Many great writers I know are very precise with their first drafts, but I tend to be guided by intuition and clean it up later. If I get too in my head about it then it becomes too self-conscious and less authentic or inventive.

Resources

Q: What’s one surprising or unlikely resource that you turn to again and again to bolster your writing life?

Music is a huge resource for me. If I’m writing personal nonfiction and I want to immerse myself in a moment in time, I will listen to the same music I was listening to during that time period. In fiction I will try to find music that vibes with the story I’m telling. When I write about my mother, especially my childhood with her, I’ll listen to 80s pop music, the sounds of which permeated our life. Crowded House, Mister Mister, and Whitney Houston are some examples. I listened to some of this music while writing my essay, “You Have Such a Pretty Face” for

The Unpublishable

If I’m writing about my teens I listen to older PJ Harvey, Tori Amos, Nirvana, Tribe Called Quest, Alice In Chains. I have playlists for certain time periods. I’ve been obsessed with music throughout my life (I used to make mixtapes recorded from the radio). One of my favorite things to remember about myself is my obsession with Phil Collins when I was 11 years old. I had all of his tapes. If I hadn’t become a writer, I surely would have been a musician. Long ago I even sang in a couple bands.

I’m grateful I can listen and write at the same time, because it really does inform my work quite a bit.

Bonus: Neurodiversity

Q: Did being diagnosed neurodivergent affect how you see or interact with your writing life?

I was diagnosed with ADHD about two years ago and with autism six or seven months ago. It’s definitely reshaped the way I see myself and how I interact with my writing life. I used to write at coffee shops a lot because I felt some obligation to be around people, but now I will hibernate at home whenever I can and immerse myself in my writing. I’m also aware that my energy is limited, so I’ve had to reduce the number of social interactions I have in any given day, week, or month in order to make more space for my writing.

Before my autism diagnosis, in particular, I felt a certain obligation to be more social, even though social events often felt uncomfortable and would knock me out of my routine. Now I am very choosy. It’s hard, in a way, because this means that my circle of friends is smaller, but writing is something I am married to. It’s one of the most important things in my life and an essential way of processing the world. So, I’ve freed myself from some of the ideas of who I thought I needed to be, especially knowing that my not wanting to be as social isn’t a defect, but just part of who I am.