Yup, another ISM for you
When I was twelve years old, I had a friend who naturally waxes
philosophical. Her utterances made her the perfect friend for me, because I had
an unquenched thirst for meaning, and still do.
And so, when she sighed and said, “From the moment we’re born we start aging,” I gasped and realized I
was on a march to old age, and it wasn’t thrilling to my then self.
Many years later, this process has gained concreteness but lost
the darkness I felt then. This is because of unexpected peace I gained over
the years, (something no twelve-year-old imagination contained) and the recognition
that what I love to do best I am doing better all the time.
Which brings me to the matter of ageism in the writing
world.
A year ago, another writer, wise and talented a storyteller as you'll ever find, wrote to me about her experience
of ageism: “...Each book I write is better than the last, and everything I write
now is better than anything I got published then. But none of it matters,
except to the extent that growing craft is good for its own sake. God sees, and
that matters most.
But in spite of all that — yes, I wish writing and publishing
goodness still ahead for us both.”
Older writers are better writers. But let’s not go the other
way and hold it against the young’uns, either.
ISMs are not good for our souls, ever yearning for meaning.
