Wendelin Van Draanen - Hope in the mail: Reflections on Writing and Life

Becoming a writer was nowhere near my top ten career choices. I wasnt one of those people who dreamed about penning the great American novel. Language arts was never my favorite subject in school. It bugged me, actually, because no matter how hard I worked at it, I couldnt seem to break the essay-writing code. My papers were invariably returned with little red marks all over themedits, corrections, and questions that resulted in the dreaded Redo or, worse, B+.

The overachiever in me did not like the nebulous aspects of writing. The subjective assessment of it. She liked math. Where two plus two was always four, the square root of nine was always three, and the Pythagorean theorem was not built on shifting sands.

I was also not a journal keeper. I grew up with brothers and quickly learned that committing my thoughts and feelings and secrets to paper was a dangerous enterprise. Definitely not worth the risk.

And yet here I am, with over thirty books published and an unshakable belief that writing saved my life.

Or, at least, saved me from a life of bitterness and despair. When my path took some dark turns, it was writing that helped me sort out what I thought and felt and wanted. It helped me find empathy. It made me dig deep into the why of peoples behaviors, and drove home the healing power of forgiveness. Writing gave me a new lease on life, and, perhaps most important, it helped me see past my own troubles to the needs of others.

Writing also taught me that everyone has a story. And its our collective storyyours, mine, our neighbors both close and farthat helps us navigate life. Our storiesour historiescan give new perspectives that assist us in seeing things more broadly or clearly. Hearing how others have endured or triumphed can give us the courage to slog forward through hard times or nagging doubts.

Ive been speaking to audiences large and small, young and adult, for over twenty years now. Ostensibly Im there to talk about my books or reading and writing, but my true mission is to inspire the audience to fight for their own dreams. When Im addressing a gym full of students, I want them to come away feeling uplifted and ready to take on the world. Because the bottom line is, its not my book or what Ive gone through that matters most to them. What matters most to them is what theyre going through. What their hopes and dreams are. Nothing adults say or preach or teach can hold a candle to whats going on in their lives right now.

It wasnt always, but speaking to a gym full of students is now easy for me. I make myself remember what it was like to be their age, to sit on a hard bench for an hour listening to an adult drone on about something that didnt matter to me. I promise myself never to be that adult, then try to present them with a talk thats lively and funny and substantive. It doesnt take long for the audience to figure out that I get them, and that I care. My favorite comments from kids include I loved the parts where you were airborne! (in reference to the way I leap around) and (the one I hear most often) You should do stand-up! But theyve also taken away the core message: Dream big, work hard, dont give up.

Speaking to adults is not as easy for me. A sea of stony faces is much tougher to engage than bleachers full of squirmy kids. Confession: It took me quite a while to quit shaking in front of educators. After all, what authority did I have to speak to a banquet hall of language arts teachers and librarians when my background was in math and science? I hadnt read all the classics. I hadnt spent my life analyzing literature. Why was I at the podium? These were people who lived and breathed literature, people who bled red ink and had no problem spilling it all over my school assignments!

I felt like an impostor. But over time I came to realize that adults have many of the same longings and dreams for themselves that they had when they were sitting on a hard bench in a gym somewhere years agotheyve just learned to tuck them away behind the responsibilities of adulthood. A reminder that its still okay to dream and to pursue our dreams is something we all need to hear. And when I was able to get past my own insecurities and actually engage, I found the audiences to be kind. Supportive. Encouraging. And (amazingly) they would come up to me afterward and suggest the stand-up thing too. Turns out, language arts teachers arent a scary bunch after all. Theyre people with stories and pain and a need to laugh just likewell, everyone.

Ive been asked by many people to collect the anecdotes and insights that Ive shared with audiences during my twenty years of public speaking; to write them down.

So this is my storynot the boring autobiographical stuff, but the parts that pertain to writing and finding silver linings. The parts that I hope will make you want to follow whatever path you choose with guts and determination.

So come on. Lets get airborne.