Writers or Puppeteers?

I celebrated my 50th birthday this week, by going alone to the “Peace Pagoda” in Leverett, Massachusetts, a quiet monument on top of a mountain. I knew that what I needed to do most was to spend the day being quiet, away from the demands of my family, my job, and the demands of the novel in progress that I am trying to revise for the umpteenth time.

As I walked up the pathway, I tried to be the Buddhist I’m not and put aside my secret expectations that I’d stumble on the key changes that would make my novel perfect. Instead I tried to listen, really listen. No secret messages other than choruses of birds or rubber-band pinging of frogs. But it did lead me to reaffirm one of the hardest things about writing–that as a writer, I need to be of service to my work, rather than trying to control it

This is why I sometimes find myself prickling when I hear writers saying that they want a certain thing to happen while at the same time admitting that they know such an action is out of character or out of place. Are we writers or puppeteers? I can’t manipulate situations or people to determine how things will unfold. The only thing I can do is listen, and try to understand my characters, their stories, and the situations I’m trying to create on a very deep level.