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I knew this time was coming—when I would have to say goodbye to something I really cared about. I recently ran into Wendy’s mom, who told me Wendy had tragically lost a hand in an accident and was soon to hold court for one final time in her front yard before being retired for good.
If you’re new here and don’t yet know about our beloved Wendy, allow me to introduce you. Wendy is a mannequin, and her mother first encountered her at a garage sale years ago and instantly felt a connection.
Read more: “What Is Your Wendy?”
She brought Wendy home and put her in the front yard and began dressing her with fashions from her own closet. Pretty soon Wendy demanded a wardrobe of her own, so her mom began making her handsome custom outfits–high fashion, seasonal, sometimes themed or situational, like the time her mom instructed the installers of her new washer to take the old one out to Wendy so she could properly maintain her extensive wardrobe.
Some of the neighbors were not fans, but many of us found great inspiration from Wendy, and I wrote about her in an earlier blog post, where she seemed to enchant all those who read about her. I found Wendy and her mom to be a beautiful example of what true creativity is—for its own sake, for the creator’s, and for those who share in their art.
But today, walking by Wendy’s yard, I saw this:
Wendy’s Moving On
When her mother first told me Wendy would soon be leaving our neighborhood, my heart broke. I shared the sad update on social media, and her many friends and fans also mourned the loss of Wendy. What will my dog walks be like without seeing whatever fresh sartorial splendor she’s debuting that day?
But sometimes it’s important to know when to step off the stage. That’s different for everyone: maybe when a manuscript you’re working on just isn’t calling to you the way it used to, or it isn’t coming together no matter how much you revise it, or isn’t getting the offers from agents or publishers you hoped for, and you realize this story may be one for the drawer.
Maybe there comes a time when you feel you need to step away from writing altogether.
What I love about Wendy and her indomitable spirit is that she clearly isn’t taking this retirement from the front yard as failure, as you can see from her triumphant departure and note. She’s just done here, no judgment on herself or anyone else—even her critics, as she took care to point out in her farewell note. It’s just time to go.
But as she has for so many years, Wendy also has one final lesson to impart before she goes.
This isn’t an ending, at least not for Wendy. Her whole life does not consist of standing out in this front yard, regardless of how many people she and her mom have brought joy to. This was just a portion of her journey, a slice of her adventure that I and the other neighbors have been privileged to share for a while, but now she’s ready to move on. It’s not an ending for Wendy, but a new beginning for whatever comes next in her thrilling life. She’s clearly got some exciting travel planned.
It’s not an ending for Wendy’s mom either. She’s spent many years in faithful partnership with Wendy, but she says she’s ready to move on to other creative pursuits too. She’s not giving up; she’s just allowing herself the freedom to grow and expand and explore other interests.
The Wisdom of Wendy
If you have followed and enjoyed Wendy and her mother’s artistic efforts to this point, then don’t mourn them—celebrate them. They are not diminished for the fact of being finite. They, and we, had experiences derived from those efforts, and they affected us, and they mattered.
If you are letting go of a project or pursuit that no longer serves you, do it with joy, not sadness. With pride, not defeat, and excitement, not resignation. Like Wendy, now you’re opening up space for something new and fresh, something that will allow you to expand and grow in a new direction.
Or maybe you’re struggling with letting go of one WIP enough to call it “finished” and allowing it to make its way out in the world. Let Wendy inspire you, help you realize that you could noodle on it forever, but at some point growth means letting it go and freeing yourself to move on to the next story.
Even if you’re feeling as if it’s time to step away from your writing altogether, whether for the short term or forever, take a lesson from Wendy and celebrate that too. In the words of those sage musical scholars Semisonic, every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.
Writing is but one shade in the endless spectrum of creativity, and it could simply be that it’s time for you to explore another color.
Writing is but one shade in the endless spectrum of creativity, and it could simply be that it’s time for you to explore another color. Maybe it’s just for a while, because you need a rest, and you’re honoring that part of your creativity that needs time to nourish itself and replenish the well. Or maybe it’s forever, because other siren songs are singing to you about exploring exciting new lands (just watch out for those rocks!).
You don’t have to decide right now. You don’t even have to know for sure yet whether this break is permanent or temporary. I put down my pen in fiction writing close to four years ago now and I haven’t missed it for a moment. Maybe one day I will, and when I do I’ll come back and reinhabit those old familiar stomping grounds.
Or maybe I won’t, and I’ll just keep doing what I’m enjoying so much right now: editing other people’s stories and writing and teaching about writing. That’s where I feel like I get the most creative growth and satisfaction these days. Like Wendy, I packed my bags and moved on, and so far I haven’t looked back.
But meanwhile let’s raise a glass to Wendy and the pleasure and inspiration she has brought so many for so long. This isn’t a requiem at all, I realize, but a celebration of her time here in our orbit. I’m grateful for what she has added to my life, and I wish her nothing but joy, wherever her path takes her for the rest of hers.
As she so often does, in her own wise way, Wendy shows us important truths about the creative life: that it’s important for us to honor these transitions, no matter what they look like, and to realize what they mean. Not that we have stagnated or settled, but exactly the opposite. We are human and organic and alive and ever-changing, and we’re just continuing to evolve.
Bring it to me, authors—I want to know about your own endings and new beginnings. Where do you struggle to let go, and how do you regard these transitions—as normal stages of growth in your creative career, or as roadblocks or failures? What tools do you use to at these times of change—whether that’s coping with a closing door or contemplating walking through it under your own steam?
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“Tiffany’s wise approach is one I wholeheartedly applaud.”—Jane Friedman, author of The Business of Being a Writer
“Intuitive Author is a much-needed resource, filled to the brim with wisdom and tips that every author needs to know. It should be required reading and belongs on every author’s bookshelf.”—Amy Collins, literary agent, Talcott Notch
“What Tiffany Yates Martin offers in The Intuitive Author is as practical as it is inspirational…. Writers: This is a must-add title for your writing desk.”—Amy Jones, editor-in-chief of Writer’s Digest
22 Comments. Leave new
Ah, sweet Wendy. I will miss her. But like the true icon she is, she’s leaving us with an insightful life lesson. (Okay, maybe I should attribute the lesson to you!) Best wishes to Wendy on her next adventure, and congratulations on the new book!
We shall all miss her happy, fashionable presence here in the neighborhood, but she must move on to greater adventures. 🙂
Thanks for the congrats, Christina!
Tiffany, I love Wendy’s approach to new horizons. In my last novel, a character was asked about the key to life, and he responded that the best you can hope for is a well-timed exit. – Bret
PS. I’m loving your POV master class.
Ha–that sounds very Oscar Wilde-ean. :)Thanks for the comment on the master class! POV can be a little sonofabitch, but I admit I am also having fun digging into it with y’all. 🙂
Tiffany, I’ll miss Wendy here on Doe Run too. My wife? Not so much. She’s tended to think “creepy” regarding Wendy, and I don’t know why. My wife usually enjoys the unique, creative, and unusual in the world. Regarding moving on, I too have moved on from writing. I wrote some nonfiction, and enjoyed doing it immensely, especially when I got so lost in it that I forgot the time of day. Trouble is, though, that there are so many other activities that I want to try, and there aren’t enough hours in a day, it seems. So some things need to fall away so that they can be replaced by new things in our ever-changing world.
Hi, Ray! I heard the neighbors over there were split on Wendy (from her mom). I probably haven’t helped, making her a national celebrity and all. 😉
I love that you, like Wendy, are trying your hand at new things. 🙂 I think being receptive to change and light on our feet is a lovely way to approach creativity–and life. I used to write fiction, but haven’t in many years, as I mentioned–it just stopped being fun or calling to me like my nonfiction does right now. I left acting for the same reasons–it stopped being fun and I wanted to try other things.
And yeah, I get that “not enough hours” feeling–I always wish I needed less sleep so I could fit in everything I want to fit in! Thanks for the comment–see you around the ‘hood!
I will miss Wendy and her fashion parade, but I wish her bonne chance. I love how you’ve incorporated her journey into teachable moments for the rest of us reading at home.
And congratulations on the new book, which is waiting in my virtual TBR.
Thanks, Barb! I think we will all miss Wendy and her wisdom, but I join you in wishing her bonne chance. 😉
I hope you love INTUITIVE AUTHOR! I am eager to get it out into the world.
I love how you encourage yourself and others to be positive about the decision to move on to a new creative endeavor if and when the ones we are working on have lost their luster. But….. for some of us moving on is way too easy to do. For instance, I ‘m an idea person. I have lots and lots of ideas. And yes I do follow through on many of them, but I also let a few slide or I finish them in a half-*** manner. Thankfully, in real life, my husband cleans up after many of my house and garden projects. But he can’t do that in my writing life. My goals at this stage of my life are to not move on too soon, to stick with the story even after I hit a road block. Here is my real world example. I have two drafts done on my novel. I’m working on the third draft. But really all I want to do is move on to my next story idea that I’m super excited about for NaNoWriMo. So my question back to you is when do you know when to move on and when do you need to buckle up the seat belt and stay on course?
This is a great question, Luca–and I agree, there are times to move on and times to persevere through the hard parts…and how do you know the difference? I do hear of authors who love a first draft but don’t like the often hard work of editing and revising, so they leave a slew of underdeveloped stories behind them as they keep moving on, with nothing ever ready to leave the nest.
It’s a subjective answer–and every writer has to determine it for themselves. But I wrote about this in this post a while back, talking about being stuck, and good quitting versus bad quitting, and it may help. Thanks for the thought-provoking comment!
As most of your posts, this one resonated with me so much. A couple years ago, I made the difficult decision to literally close up shop of two(!) Etsy shops that I’d been selling my crafts and photography on for over 10 years. Partly to make room in my small apartment for two more people; partly to move on to other creative endeavors. Editing other people’s manuscripts for nearly a decade has inspired me to start working on my own writing projects. I thought that writing as a side hobby or career would take up no space compared to crafting, but I was wrong. The supplies and inventory that I’m still slowly getting rid of just get replaced with writing craft books, and now it looks like I need to make room for one more! You kind of buried the lede on that announcement 😉 , but congratulations on the new book!! I can’t wait to add it to my new craft supplies!
I was just talking about this to a fellow creative who is pivoting her career to a completely new pursuit–that you have to kind of learn to tune in to yourself to know when it may be time to let go of something you’ve done for a long time, and loved, but which may not be your focus anymore. We are mutable beings, always evolving. 🙂 But it can be hard to look at that, sometimes hard to even realize that’s what’s happening (I wrote about my leaving acting in the new book, which sort of sneaked up on me way back when), and hard to make a big shift when you do.
It sounds like you knew you were ready, and moved ahead into your new focus, writing. Congrats! Endings are always hard, but new beginnings are exciting. 🙂 Good luck in your writing career, Lynn.
See yeah, Wendy. Don’t look back.
Good gosh, I saw Semisonic in concert two decades ago when they opened for Sheryl Crow.
I’ve closed the door on one entire fantasy series and seven other drafted novels. written over the course of more than a decade. They helped teach me about writing, and about the writer who wrote them. I’ll never disparage them because they gave me so much.
Last year, after accumulating a boat load (think ocean liner) of worthy novels written and revised since 2016, I decided it was time to step through the publishing door. The target I chose was the following autumn. That became November 2024.
I was thrilled, my anxiety not so much. Thing is, I’ve faced far worse and I’m still here, even at 65. It’s time. I love to read them. Maybe there’s someone out there who needs to read them.
Either way, it’ll be like I moved Wendy out of the house so everyone else could see her, too.
Love that, Christina–that you know you learned from all those stories and none of it was wasted. My brother and I were just talking about this idea on a big-picture scale–how we regret little of our pasts, even the unpleasant parts, because all of it taught us something and got us to where we are…which is a good place.
But I also love that you’re revisiting some of those stories to see if there’s new life to be breathed into them, and get them out into the world. Every one of my “books in the drawer” has made it to publication–sometimes they just had to bake a little longer. 🙂 Good luck with these projects!
I love the wisdom in this article and how our creative pursuits can change, especially if we work or volunteer in multiple creative endeavors. For example, when I became a full-time editor, suddenly my writing life also became work. I needed a different creative outlet that wasn’t writing because my day job was now all about writing and editing. Like Wendy’s mom I’ve been in that transition of deciding how much time I devote, in my after-work hours to literary events versus dance events (which refill my well beautifully). I think it can help to have a creative outlet that isn’t tied to an performance expectations. It’s just there for you to pursue without having it tied to an economic outcome!
Britta! Hi! 🙂 I always loved that you had your dance that had such a potent creative pull for you. I often find that writers are also creative in other, seemingly unrelated ways–and that those other pursuits often really help fill the creative well, as you said.
Hope you’re loving newlywed life! Nice to see you pop up here.
Tiffany, love this post. And the Wendy connection. The ending of my book sequel, the protagonist gives something up that she wants most in her life. Only to get it back when she makes her relationship with her husband more important. He makes her dream come true because he believes in her ability to balance her life with him. Which she does. Glad I read your post this morning. 📚🎶 Christine
That’s lovely–very “Gift of the Magi.” 🙂 Thanks, Christine–I’m glad the post resonated!
Interesting post, ma’am. Thank you.
Leonardo da Vinci said, “Art is not finished, it’s abandoned.” I wasn’t there when he said it, but that’s what they say he said. To me, that means, perfection is not achievable, I could always do more, but at some point, more is no longer better. A surgeon once told me that perfect is the arch-enemy of good.
Abandoning the creating part for the publication part isn’t attractive to me, but it’s the next step. At least now I have results goals, action goals, and planned activities in that area. Once I’m settled into those, I may be able to return to the creating part. I look forward to that.
There are a couple of false starts in a folder on my computer that nudge me from time to time. In each, I made a mistake in the premise or something else fundamental that brought me to a halt. I may by now have grown enough to do better with them. They’re sort of like wisdom teeth; I sort of know they’re there, and when they’re ready, they’ll emerge. (I hope.)
I hope it’s possible to go forward by going back. Unless I can think of something better to do, I’m gonna try it.
Bob, I remind myself of that saying about perfection all the time! I try to replace the urge to make something “perfect”–and thus noodle on it forever–with “good enough is good enough.” For most things, I think that’s true. And there’s no such thing as perfect anyway, right? It’s subjective.
Funny you say you don’t like abandoning creation for publication. When I was an actor, I ALWAYS loved rehearsal the most. I like performance, but rehearsal to me felt like the real creativity, and I was always gently sorry to leave it behind once a show opened. And as you say, the glory of a creative career is that moving on to a letting-go phase with one project means you get to start all over again in creation phase with another.
I do think you can revisit those books in the drawer when you’re ready to tell them, they’re ready to be told. Every one of the books I stashed there eventually came out and went into the world, so to me it’s true, anyway. Good luck! Glad to see you here, as always.
I love this perspective, Tiffany.
And Wendy has left me with two different story ideas…
Ha! Her legacy lives on! 🙂 Thanks, Leslie.