Good writing can “cause our wobbly egos to feel shivers of delight”

Ramona Grigg joins Cave of the Heart and answers 5 questions on self-trust

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.

Ramona Grigg

currently writes two newsletters on Substack (Constant Commoner and Writer Everlasting). She has had a long career as a newspaper columnist, a freelance feature writer, a dabbler in fiction, a working member of a professional writers group, and as a creative writing instructor. She lives on an island in Michigan's north woods and publishes at the whim of her rural internet service, which often seems to have a diabolical mind of its own. 

Describe the setting where you’re answering these questions.

I’m sitting in my favorite old chair—my tiny chair where my feet actually hit the floor. My laptop is on a cushiony lap desk, complete with cookie crumbs. And the heat from the floor radiator is warming my feet through my knitted slippers. Pure comfort! I could be doing this at my desk but that might seem too formal. I might come off as someone who knows what she’s talking about or that she’s talking about lofty things instead of just chatting with a good friend.

Childhood

Q: Were you a chatterbox as a child, or were you quiet or something else entirely? When you spoke up or expressed a preference, what sort of response did you get?

It’s been so long. I’m trying to remember, but I think I might have been a chatterbox for a time. My mother said when I was around five, living in a rented house at the corner of a somewhat busy street, I would hang onto the gate waiting for passersby. No doubt I was wearing a dress with white socks and patent leather Mary Janes, the usual outfit. And no one could get past me without at least hearing: “Hi, my name is Mona! What’s yours? Do you live around here? Where are you going? Wanna see my (insert: doll, bear, dress, Mom)? What’s in your bag? Do you have kids? What’s their names? I could play with them…” 

Mom said after a while she’d notice those same people walking on the other side of the street pretending they didn’t hear me calling to them. 😉 Yet I remember myself as kind of quiet, observing more than getting into it whenever we visited or were around other people. I was listening, wanting to know the whys and wherefores of their lives. Other than those times at our garden gate, I don’t remember trying to be the center of attention.

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.

There were, in fact, two of them. The first would have to be my high school English teacher, Mrs. Kremer. She was young and pretty and quite liberal, now that I think of it. In her class we heard FDR’s speeches and we read Arthur Miller’s The Crucible–ostensibly about the Salem Witch trials, but really a parable about the McCarthy Hearings and the Red Scare–and she made sure we knew that. Mainly, she loved good writing and she shared the things she loved, so I came to love what she loved and my fire was LIT! She read passages from contemporary writing that threatened to make me cry in class. Most English classes in the 1950s centered on the classics—so boring to a teenager. I remember that she was supposed to teach ‘Silas Marner’ and she threw it out for something else–and did it with such flourish: Ha! Gone! You can thank me later! (Oddly enough, I can’t remember the book that took its place.)

My second such teacher was an instructor in Junior College who wore an earring in one ear (long before it was a thing). He was a white man who wore dashikis and orange tennis shoes and was a bit of a buffoon, but he introduced me to Eudora Welty and Flannery O’Connor and Joseph Conrad and Langston Hughes. We had to write in his class—he didn’t care what, he didn’t grade just as long as we were writing. And if Mrs. Kremer got the ball rolling, this guy (can’t even remember his name) made me a player.

Creative Spark

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

I love the idea of a creative spark. I’m lucky enough to feel it now and then, and I cherish it when it happens. So I guess I’d have to assume that every writer who sees our craft as some sort of artistry must feel it, too. We have lusty imaginations; we tend to have addictive personalities— why else would we keep this lovable, hateful writing thing going?—and we need outlets. Something has to happen in order to satisfy our needs, and that “spark” has to happen often enough for us to want to keep striving for it. We need a lift, a boost, a “hit,” and it comes when we write something so good it causes our wobbly egos to feel shivers of delight. We absolutely have to have that in order to sustain this way of life. Something good has to happen often enough to feed us and get us through yet another bout of anxiety. 

Writing to publish is not for the faint of heart. Rejection, invisibility, self-doubt—the baggage we carry—needs to take a back seat now and then, and I suppose that’s where our hero (heroine?), Creative Spark, comes in. It shows us we’ve still got it. It lets us know we would be foolish to give up now, when there’s some hope that we could win this thing!

Writing Process

Q: Were there any habits or beliefs that you had to let go of in order to more deeply trust your writing process?

It was only after my husband died in March 2022, that I allowed that part of me wanting to stay private to come out into the light and open up. Until then I’d rarely written anything about my private life, and then only in the rosiest, most superficial terms. But I was grieving and my inner pain crowded out every other thought. I was writing my newsletters and felt an obligation to keep them going, so when we got the news that his cancer was terminal—just days before he died, as it turned out—I published a piece letting my readers know what was happening and why I wouldn’t be around for a while. I turned off the comments, and I thought that would be the end of it. I thought I could go back to that easy, somewhat distanced writing I had worked to put my stamp on, but I couldn’t. I wrote from my heart, scared and sad and not in the least sure of anything anymore, and my fears eased with each loving comment, with each caring note. 

I’m a different writer now. Much more honest, much more “feely,” and it feels right. I’m where I should be.

Resources

Q: What’s your favorite quote on writing?

I love Carl Sagan’s use of words. Since Cosmos, he’s seen as a scientist, an astronomer, a series host, but his real triumph is in his near-poetic use of words. This is one of my favorites:  

"A book is made from a tree. It is an assemblage of flat, flexible parts (still called "leaves") imprinted with dark pigmented squiggles. One glance at it and you hear the voice of another person, perhaps someone dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, the author is speaking, clearly and silently, inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people, citizens of distant epochs, who never knew one another. Books break the shackles of time—proof that humans can work magic."

― Carl Sagan

Join us in the comments!

Have you ever experienced a moment where inspiration struck out of nowhere? What did you create as a result?

Like Ramona’s influential English teachers, is there someone who drastically shifted your perspective or ignited a passion within you? What made them stand out, and how have they impacted your journey?