People often ask me, "How did you find the time to write The Blood of Flowers when you were working? What motivated you to keep going?"
For most of the eight to nine years that I worked on the novel, I had full-time jobs as an arts journalist that often kept me busy in the evenings and on weekends. As a result, I plodded along ever so slowly on my book. There were many times that thought I was being foolishly hopeful. One never knows if publication awaits, or merely the desk drawer.
One reason I persevered is that I began to experience fiction writing as a place of refuge. It occurred to me that nowhere else in life could I find the same kind of liberty - to create an entire universe, to fill it with rug makers, the scent of rosewater, and the beautiful bridges of Isfahan. In personal and professional relationships, by contrast, one is always having to negotiate with strictures and other people's desires. Fiction writing was the one place that my imagination could roam freely.

This makes me think about Emily Dickinson, who never gave up writing her beautiful, daring poems, even though few were published in her lifetime. One senses that she knew how great her own powers were and that writing allowed her to truly be herself, regardless of what was permitted at the time.
Creativity can be welcomed, but not forced. Another great poet, Leonard Cohen, once said that it took him two years to write a song. On the face of it, that seems like a long time. But the important thing is accepting one's own rhythms and allowing them to express themselves in their own due course.
By contrast, I recently visited the Dickens House in London, where Dickens lived for a couple of years as a young man and wrote Oliver Twist. I was once again struck by how faithfully he managed to produce fiction in response to serialization deadlines and a strict 32-page printed format. He's the perfect example of grinding out words on a schedule, but what words and what stories!
As a writer, I have experienced bad days and even bad months. But I think the most important thing for any creative person is to set aside time for the work, and then remove judgment about what happens when you're doing it. Creativity is just like a muscle. You may not see the results at any given session at the gym, but over time, you will see that muscle grow.
What I found over the years is that characters' voices become more distinct, plot complications develop, resolutions suggest themselves. That's what made me want to rush back to my desk to see what would happen. The more time I carved out and the more consistently I worked, the more I was rewarded with possibilities.
Regardless of what else happens, there is great joy in seeing the muscle get stronger.


Comments: 11
I would be honored if you would join the group, I'm Published and submit this piece and information about The Blood of Flowers. Please include where fellow Gatherers can purchase it.
I am convinced that the key to peace in the entire middle east region if not the entire world is synonomous with the economic, political, and social empowerment of women. The institutionalized subjugation of women and girls particularly in the Islamic world is obviously at odds with this thinking. A simple case of testosterone poisining? Please comment.
Signed,
hwbf23
You mention Dickens in your essay, and your novel is described as a "Dickensian tale." Although you and Dickens wrote at different paces, was there anything about his writing that was a direct influence on yours?
Although this is off the topic of your essay, I wanted to know if you could talk about the details of rug design that are "woven" through your novel. What got you interested in the crafting of Persian carpets? How did you research the topic and achieve historical accuracy when writing about it? Did female rug-weavers exist in 17th-century Iran?
Thanks.
To create countries and worlds and scenic locales...
To create tension and beauty and evil and tenderness...
How can we not write?
Excellent article.
As for women rug-makers, they still exist in Iran and probably always have. It was common in the old days for men to go out to work the fields and for women to stay at home and spin wool or knot carpets. Women would have made knotted textiles as decoration for their own homes or for sale, and that could have included anything from carpets to saddlebags, pillows, tent decorations and so forth.
My research was done primarily by reading books about carpets, and I especially enjoyed focusing on carpets that were created in the 16th and 17th centuries (the time period of my novel). One of these, the Ardabil carpet, is in the Victoria and Albert Museum in London. It has 340 knots per square inch, and it is estimated that it took eight men more than three and a half years to create. That's 28 years of man-labor for a single textile!