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And Then We Grew Up: On Creativity, Potential, and the Imperfect Art of Adulthood
Rachel Friedman embarks on a journey to examine how we fulfill (or fail to fulfill) our potential and what it really means to live a creative life. She goes in search of her former Interlochen Arts Camp friends to find out how they have spun their own creative promise into adult careers, relationships, and identities. Warm, whip-smart, and insightful, AND THEN WE GREW UP provides commiseration for all of us who were standout talents as kids, yet find ourselves pulled into adult lives less glamorous than what we imagined, and offers inspiration for finding creative fulfillment wherever we end up.
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First published December 31, 2019
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September 7, 2020
And Then We Grew Up has an interesting premise. Rachel Friedman was a gifted violist as a child and spent a few summers at the famous Interlochen arts camp in Michigan, where she was surrounded by other similarly gifted creative kids. In college, Friedman continued to pursue the viola until she inexplicably developed insurmountable anxiety around playing and quit. As an adult, she's pursued another creative field (writing) with the sort of mixed results (and financial insecurity) a lot of writers have, and she started to wonder (1) how to have a creative life amid so much pressure and precariousness and (2) how her classmates at Interlochen had managed it. She tracked down several of them, and the book is structured around various classmates, their creative struggles, and how those struggles embody larger issues with being creative in today's world.
If I'm being honest, some aspects of this book were hard to relate to. These Interlochen students were encouraged in their creativity in a way many of us aren't, and the pressure they felt to keep being creative as adults, and to make a career of it, is the opposite of what a lot of us feel, which is the pressure to leave behind or back-burner our creativity in favor of more practical endeavors. In addition, this book was one of those pop-psychology books that I kind of can't stand, where a non-expert piggybacks on actual experts' research in a way that seems facile at best and I-got-a-book-contract-and-need-to-pad-this-thing-out at worst. This often made reading this book feel like homework.
Nevertheless, it frequently was interesting to hear how the various Interlochen students approached creativity and incorporated it (or not) into their adult lives. There actually was a lot to think about regarding what creativity can and should mean to us as we get older and the realities of day-to-day life intrude on the dreams our younger selves once harbored. But again, it was more of an intellectual exercise than anything creatively inspired or inspiring. In fact, I only remember feeling inspired by this book once, when I read the following passage:
Behind the cotton wool is hidden a pattern; that we—I mean all human beings—are connected with this; that the whole world is a work of art; that we are parts of the work of art. Hamlet or a Beethoven quartet is the truth about this vast mass that we call the world. But there is no Shakespeare, there is no Beethoven; certainly and emphatically there is no God; we are the words; we are the music; we are the thing itself.
This is actually Rachel Friedman quoting Virginia Woolf in Moments of Being, and it made me wish I'd been reading that book instead of this one.
I received an ARC of this book; thank you to the publisher.
If I'm being honest, some aspects of this book were hard to relate to. These Interlochen students were encouraged in their creativity in a way many of us aren't, and the pressure they felt to keep being creative as adults, and to make a career of it, is the opposite of what a lot of us feel, which is the pressure to leave behind or back-burner our creativity in favor of more practical endeavors. In addition, this book was one of those pop-psychology books that I kind of can't stand, where a non-expert piggybacks on actual experts' research in a way that seems facile at best and I-got-a-book-contract-and-need-to-pad-this-thing-out at worst. This often made reading this book feel like homework.
Nevertheless, it frequently was interesting to hear how the various Interlochen students approached creativity and incorporated it (or not) into their adult lives. There actually was a lot to think about regarding what creativity can and should mean to us as we get older and the realities of day-to-day life intrude on the dreams our younger selves once harbored. But again, it was more of an intellectual exercise than anything creatively inspired or inspiring. In fact, I only remember feeling inspired by this book once, when I read the following passage:
Behind the cotton wool is hidden a pattern; that we—I mean all human beings—are connected with this; that the whole world is a work of art; that we are parts of the work of art. Hamlet or a Beethoven quartet is the truth about this vast mass that we call the world. But there is no Shakespeare, there is no Beethoven; certainly and emphatically there is no God; we are the words; we are the music; we are the thing itself.
This is actually Rachel Friedman quoting Virginia Woolf in Moments of Being, and it made me wish I'd been reading that book instead of this one.
I received an ARC of this book; thank you to the publisher.
March 16, 2020
I could really relate to this book about missed potential, different paths, different fates, choices we've made that may have altered our paths, thinking about where our path is headed and if we've missed something on the way, constantly feeling bad for not pursuing a "dream" or a talent, wondering how life would have been different, feeling like a failure because I quit something. But realizing that everyone goes through this, especially ambitious people and dreamers.
The only thing I couldn't really relate to was about the arts path, I never really wanted to pursue art in a career path way other than acting. I feel like yea I missed out on acting potential but I can act anytime in my life and it's not over lol
You look to your life how you're living it right now and ask yourself if this is the path you should be on and if it's yes accept that and go forward. Stop agonizing about what if's and fantasies because this is what you have chosen and if you really really want something different then just alter the course.
I loved the part about how as children we're taught that we're so special and talented etc. but then when we grow up no one really cares lol and I think that's just part of adulting. It's about realizing you don't have to be special or gifted into something. Life can just be normal and mundane and relatable to the masses and that's not a problem, that's just life, embrace it.
I like how Friedman referenced JK Rowlings Harry Potter epilogue - Harry, Ron and Hermione at platform 9 3/4 sending their kids off to Hogwarts and the three of them end up living normal mundane lives. Not chasing dragons and Voldemort and being heroes, just normal lives. That's real life.
If we always want more more more we'll never be satisfied.
I'd recommend reading this as an audiobook instead of a book because it felt like I was having a conversation with Friedman, as if it was dialogue, or a presentation. Very easy to follow in audio format.
The only thing I couldn't really relate to was about the arts path, I never really wanted to pursue art in a career path way other than acting. I feel like yea I missed out on acting potential but I can act anytime in my life and it's not over lol
You look to your life how you're living it right now and ask yourself if this is the path you should be on and if it's yes accept that and go forward. Stop agonizing about what if's and fantasies because this is what you have chosen and if you really really want something different then just alter the course.
I loved the part about how as children we're taught that we're so special and talented etc. but then when we grow up no one really cares lol and I think that's just part of adulting. It's about realizing you don't have to be special or gifted into something. Life can just be normal and mundane and relatable to the masses and that's not a problem, that's just life, embrace it.
I like how Friedman referenced JK Rowlings Harry Potter epilogue - Harry, Ron and Hermione at platform 9 3/4 sending their kids off to Hogwarts and the three of them end up living normal mundane lives. Not chasing dragons and Voldemort and being heroes, just normal lives. That's real life.
If we always want more more more we'll never be satisfied.
I'd recommend reading this as an audiobook instead of a book because it felt like I was having a conversation with Friedman, as if it was dialogue, or a presentation. Very easy to follow in audio format.
March 5, 2020
Struggling with life choices.
Essentially, Friedman is using the format of 'Where Are They Now?' to come to grips with her own life. Not a fan of being the voyeur to someone else's self analysis, but the strength of the book was that each person has a different set of needs to be met, talking beyond Maslow's hierarchy, and those paths are highlighted. The inception point is Interlochen summer camp. Interlochen seems to be part art colony and boot camp for youths, the freedom, but the intensity of condensed focus with an element of competition that acts as the impetus to catapult artists to the next level.
Ignoring the navel-gazing, I think the questions of why do we lose connection with our creativity. Is it time and resources, the mythos of The Artist, or something else?
But, there is also this narcissistic need for validation and modern ethos of productivity that infects. I don't consider myself an artist, I do interact creatively with my environment, changing it to reflect what I feel. Literally, the state of post stamp garden tells you everything you need to know about my mental health, if everything is dead--beware. Right now, I have more fruits than ever and a posse of hummingbirds. I like to make things, but at the same time if I don't have a reason to make something then I generally don't--take my 8 foot squid. I had a pattern for two years malingering and as soon as I got an invite to a Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea Halloween party I bolted to the store for supplies. Squidy is awesome and was a big hit. At the party, I met a couple guys who do movie/tv work and their last project was a corpse for some CSI like show. Three months of work for twenty seconds of screen time; also, I thought those pics would be awkward if DHS seized their phone. But, they said to me I could sell the squid for a couple hundred dollars--besides the fact that it wouldn't pay for time and materials I was wondering why would I?
Friedman spends a bit of time demonstrating the pitfalls of "social" media between her stalking and comparing her life to others. That hamster wheel of being on, plugged in, producing more, consuming more--but I thought this was hysterical:
I think if you're trying to find resolution with what ifs and pondering the The Road Not Taken from a youth artist viewpoint this may help.
Essentially, Friedman is using the format of 'Where Are They Now?' to come to grips with her own life. Not a fan of being the voyeur to someone else's self analysis, but the strength of the book was that each person has a different set of needs to be met, talking beyond Maslow's hierarchy, and those paths are highlighted. The inception point is Interlochen summer camp. Interlochen seems to be part art colony and boot camp for youths, the freedom, but the intensity of condensed focus with an element of competition that acts as the impetus to catapult artists to the next level.
Ignoring the navel-gazing, I think the questions of why do we lose connection with our creativity. Is it time and resources, the mythos of The Artist, or something else?
I always hear Picasso and Oscar Wilde in a fake debate in my head, Picasso screaming, "The 'second career' is an illusion! while Wilde calmly counters that "the best work in literature is always done by those who do not depend on it for the daily bread."
But, there is also this narcissistic need for validation and modern ethos of productivity that infects. I don't consider myself an artist, I do interact creatively with my environment, changing it to reflect what I feel. Literally, the state of post stamp garden tells you everything you need to know about my mental health, if everything is dead--beware. Right now, I have more fruits than ever and a posse of hummingbirds. I like to make things, but at the same time if I don't have a reason to make something then I generally don't--take my 8 foot squid. I had a pattern for two years malingering and as soon as I got an invite to a Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea Halloween party I bolted to the store for supplies. Squidy is awesome and was a big hit. At the party, I met a couple guys who do movie/tv work and their last project was a corpse for some CSI like show. Three months of work for twenty seconds of screen time; also, I thought those pics would be awkward if DHS seized their phone. But, they said to me I could sell the squid for a couple hundred dollars--besides the fact that it wouldn't pay for time and materials I was wondering why would I?
The pressure to chronicle our creativity (as part of the pressure to chronicle our lives) has led us to believe that the creative process requires a creative product to share with the world.
Friedman spends a bit of time demonstrating the pitfalls of "social" media between her stalking and comparing her life to others. That hamster wheel of being on, plugged in, producing more, consuming more--but I thought this was hysterical:
Can we make you happy or sad? was the company's (Facebook admitted 2014 manipulation of users) essential question, and since then a slew of articles examining depression, envy, and other emotions linked to social media use have confirmed that the answer is a resounding yup.
I think if you're trying to find resolution with what ifs and pondering the The Road Not Taken from a youth artist viewpoint this may help.
January 28, 2020
I really fucking tried with this book. I'm a bit obsessed with creation and the artist's process.
The idea of this book is good, but the book on a whole seems like an excuse for a self-sabotaging thinker to have an excuse to write a book just so she can have another byline. It's self-serving, exasperatingly ego-centric and anxiety ridden. Sure, it touches on most artist's conundrums of 'Am I a good enough artist?' 'Do I need to suffer for my art?' et cetera. However, it does little to ease the anxiety. It feels like the book pitch was written after a night of endless Facebook stalking and worth comparison.
In an age where publishers are taking risks on books that tap into people's anxiety's and new year's resolutions, this book faces the dedication and humility it takes to be an artist and twists it into a reality show. Art is not a competition. Art is not a comparison. Figure yer shit out, and stop comparing yourself to people.
If you want to kickstart your artistic journey - I'd recommend 'The Artist's Way', 'Bird by Bird', or like - a zillion other books. Fucking read Rilke. Get inspired by other artists. Reading this book, for me, was a bit like bitching at brunch. And at the end, the best you could hope for would be someone effusively nodding, 'Totally, I KNOW!' at you. But would that someone ever pick up a pen?
I couldn't finish the book. If you can't either, it's cool. Write your own.
Gave 2 stars because I was so interested in the subject, and the few interesting points I found were gleaned from other authors quoted in the book.
The idea of this book is good, but the book on a whole seems like an excuse for a self-sabotaging thinker to have an excuse to write a book just so she can have another byline. It's self-serving, exasperatingly ego-centric and anxiety ridden. Sure, it touches on most artist's conundrums of 'Am I a good enough artist?' 'Do I need to suffer for my art?' et cetera. However, it does little to ease the anxiety. It feels like the book pitch was written after a night of endless Facebook stalking and worth comparison.
In an age where publishers are taking risks on books that tap into people's anxiety's and new year's resolutions, this book faces the dedication and humility it takes to be an artist and twists it into a reality show. Art is not a competition. Art is not a comparison. Figure yer shit out, and stop comparing yourself to people.
If you want to kickstart your artistic journey - I'd recommend 'The Artist's Way', 'Bird by Bird', or like - a zillion other books. Fucking read Rilke. Get inspired by other artists. Reading this book, for me, was a bit like bitching at brunch. And at the end, the best you could hope for would be someone effusively nodding, 'Totally, I KNOW!' at you. But would that someone ever pick up a pen?
I couldn't finish the book. If you can't either, it's cool. Write your own.
Gave 2 stars because I was so interested in the subject, and the few interesting points I found were gleaned from other authors quoted in the book.
August 17, 2019
This was a quick, easy read about coming to terms with the road not taken, and dealing with our American obsession with success. Overall enjoyable and relatable, though I thought some of her points were overdone and she quoted from several mainstream books I had already read, which was a strange experience to have as a reader. I did love her interviews with former artist camp friends, and her observations about their lives were interesting and thoughtfully done. Ultimately I was rooting for the narrator, I hope she picks up the viola again someday!
January 6, 2020
Author Rachel Friedman grew up playing the violin, and she was very good at it. But when she began studying with the principal violist of the Boston Symphony while in college, she realized she wasn’t nearly as good as her competition. After several months spent lost in a haze of anxiety and self-doubt, she decided to stop working toward a career as a musician and switched her school and major completely.
Flash forward ten years, now Friedman is a freelance writer in New York, relatively successful, sure, but still hounded by thoughts of what could have been if she had just stuck with the violin. She decides to interview eight of her former friends from the uber-prestigious arts camp they used to attend together called Interlochen. Her goal is to see how their career choices have played out and, more importantly, if they’re happy.
MY THOUGHTS
I’ll say right off the bat that this book is a little too “angsty college kid’s essay” for my taste. I really enjoyed reading about Friedman’s interactions with and impressions of her classmates. Their insights into what ultimately made them content in their careers is interesting food for thought. But the filler between those vignettes bored me to tears. I don’t care about the history of creativity or the history of how artists are perceived—or at least that’s not why I’m reading this book. I also don’t need to read every supporting quote from the many books Friedman has read on the subject of artists and their creative processes. Halfway through the book, I started skimming all paragraphs that began, “Like X author says…” and “As Y musician once taught…” Enough already.
HOWEVER, there’s still a lot to love about Friedman’s story. I gleaned something from each classmate’s experience, and I finished the book feeling better prepared to parent my own kids. I especially liked Adam’s story, his faith in his own work ethic to get him through hard times and his willingness to stay flexible and open to new possibilities. I liked Eli’s story, too, his recognition that some people get lucky and make it big early, but most people experience a “slow burn” until they really start running things in their 50s—and that that’s okay. It was refreshing to read about his simple appreciation for working in a job he enjoyed at all, since many people don’t even have that luxury. And Dalia’s story, while not necessarily my favorite, was a giant red flag, warning me that I need to let my kids experience frustration now when they’re young so they can learn how to tolerate it and push through without falling to pieces later.
Ironically, there is only one classmate that Friedman interviews who makes it as a musician in an orchestra. Michelle, also a violist, was Friedman’s main competition at Interlochen. She’s also the person Friedman is most nervous about interviewing, since she represents what Friedman was incapable of achieving. But even though Michelle is successful as a musician and mostly content with her career choices, it’s more than a little comforting to hear her admit life isn’t magically perfect from where she sits either. She experiences struggles and irritations, boredom and discontent, just like everyone else.
In the end, my takeaway from this book is that there is no perfect path—even when you’re sure there is because you’re not on it. And there most certainly is no path that is heartache-free. I hope it doesn’t take Friedman as long as it took me to learn this one simple fact: life simply feels unpleasant sometimes—but not because you made the wrong choice or are inherently bad or the universe is plotting against you. This is just what life feels like. The trick is to stay flexible and open without getting fixated on extreme feelings or expectations. Easier said than done, I know, but there you have it.
Many thanks to Penguin Books for the ARC!
See more of my reviews at www.bugbugbooks.com!
Flash forward ten years, now Friedman is a freelance writer in New York, relatively successful, sure, but still hounded by thoughts of what could have been if she had just stuck with the violin. She decides to interview eight of her former friends from the uber-prestigious arts camp they used to attend together called Interlochen. Her goal is to see how their career choices have played out and, more importantly, if they’re happy.
MY THOUGHTS
I’ll say right off the bat that this book is a little too “angsty college kid’s essay” for my taste. I really enjoyed reading about Friedman’s interactions with and impressions of her classmates. Their insights into what ultimately made them content in their careers is interesting food for thought. But the filler between those vignettes bored me to tears. I don’t care about the history of creativity or the history of how artists are perceived—or at least that’s not why I’m reading this book. I also don’t need to read every supporting quote from the many books Friedman has read on the subject of artists and their creative processes. Halfway through the book, I started skimming all paragraphs that began, “Like X author says…” and “As Y musician once taught…” Enough already.
HOWEVER, there’s still a lot to love about Friedman’s story. I gleaned something from each classmate’s experience, and I finished the book feeling better prepared to parent my own kids. I especially liked Adam’s story, his faith in his own work ethic to get him through hard times and his willingness to stay flexible and open to new possibilities. I liked Eli’s story, too, his recognition that some people get lucky and make it big early, but most people experience a “slow burn” until they really start running things in their 50s—and that that’s okay. It was refreshing to read about his simple appreciation for working in a job he enjoyed at all, since many people don’t even have that luxury. And Dalia’s story, while not necessarily my favorite, was a giant red flag, warning me that I need to let my kids experience frustration now when they’re young so they can learn how to tolerate it and push through without falling to pieces later.
Ironically, there is only one classmate that Friedman interviews who makes it as a musician in an orchestra. Michelle, also a violist, was Friedman’s main competition at Interlochen. She’s also the person Friedman is most nervous about interviewing, since she represents what Friedman was incapable of achieving. But even though Michelle is successful as a musician and mostly content with her career choices, it’s more than a little comforting to hear her admit life isn’t magically perfect from where she sits either. She experiences struggles and irritations, boredom and discontent, just like everyone else.
In the end, my takeaway from this book is that there is no perfect path—even when you’re sure there is because you’re not on it. And there most certainly is no path that is heartache-free. I hope it doesn’t take Friedman as long as it took me to learn this one simple fact: life simply feels unpleasant sometimes—but not because you made the wrong choice or are inherently bad or the universe is plotting against you. This is just what life feels like. The trick is to stay flexible and open without getting fixated on extreme feelings or expectations. Easier said than done, I know, but there you have it.
Many thanks to Penguin Books for the ARC!
See more of my reviews at www.bugbugbooks.com!
September 24, 2019
For anyone who grew up gifted but ditched violin or poetry (hi!) or sculpture after college and has always wondered, “What if?” Now you’ll be wondering, “Where has AND THEN WE GREW UP been all my (adult) life?” As a child, Rachel Friedman played viola so skillfully she made it into the prestigious Interlochen Arts Camp, but she left her bow behind amid the pressure cooker of college. Now she’s a freelance writer in NYC plagued by old questions about what creative success is supposed to look like. Where are all those fellow campers now? Did they all achieve their childhood dreams? In tracking these former child prodigies down, Friedman discovers a vast range of creative engagement, from a screenwriter in Hollywood to a Pilates instructor in Denver. Interweaving these interviews with passages from sages like Elizabeth Gilbert and Pema Chodron, she finds an acceptance and appreciation for creativity in all its forms and gives us all the much needed encouragement to make peace with the possible selves of our pasts and rediscover the creativity that was with us all along.
*Also there’s several paragraphs meditating on the ending of Harry Potter so yeah, this book was made for me.
*Also there’s several paragraphs meditating on the ending of Harry Potter so yeah, this book was made for me.
January 23, 2020
This book hit a nerve for me. I'm a former gifted child and one of those kids who was told she could do anything if she just tried hard enough. Now I'm a 38-year-old with a lot of irons in the fire who still feels like she's not good enough. Friedman was a violist who attended Interlochen, and in this narrative, she follows her fellow students to find out what they have been doing with their creativity and potential. It's easy to judge each of them for "not living up" because everyone has their own definition of what success is. Some are happy and others are restless, and they've all made different choices to get them where they have ended up. Ultimately, Friedman finds important truths about the human condition, including that it's okay to be disappointed, and that it's also okay not to live up to the expectations that others have of us.
April 25, 2020
This book piqued my interest as I went to Interlochen for one summer and have wondered where the girls in my cabin are living their lives. The stories and reconnections were interesting but the takeaway was a simple one - don’t have expectations and be open, creativity and success comes in many forms, and honor your dreams and passions but let them go when they have served you to enjoy the next experience life has to offer.
November 23, 2022
This book is actually a decent corollary to “gifted kid” discourse because these kids werent just a students; they were incredibly gifted artists with actual crafts. I loved all their perspectives. Didn’t love how Friedman writes and don’t understand why Harry Potter had to be mentioned like three times a chapter. I think, as someone who never had an artistic gift, I still got something out of friedman’s peers’ paths to fulfillment. Trying to read more non fiction!!!
December 24, 2019
I really liked the book. I have never been a creative type of person so I did not regret doing anything and then try and come back to it later. But I think the book has some good life lessons on Potential, Effort and Reward, Failure, Being suited to your calling (I am a caregiver), and not being Ordinary. I think we all good at something and when we know that do that.
February 19, 2020
All artists should read this!! ♥️
August 4, 2021
Nice read that gives some samples on the question in my head: what happens with music talented child when they grow up..
July 20, 2020
This is a great book for creative (and thwarted creative) people at any stage in their development--from a young artist choosing a path to someone in a so-called mid-life crisis to a person reflecting back on a career now behind them. It helps you get the perspective of others on the feelings that you thought you were alone in having. It is a bit of a slow read at times, but if you've ever thought "I used to be so good at...." or "I thought I'd be so much farther by now," it's worth checking out.
Thanks to the publishers and NetGalley for a digital ARC for the purpose of an unbiased review.
Thanks to the publishers and NetGalley for a digital ARC for the purpose of an unbiased review.
March 7, 2021
The book was so interesting. When I started, I didn't know what it would be about other than the cover. I did not realize the author was a virtuoso viola player and how much she had to pivot so early in life. When most people were just starting to move upwards on the music trajectory, the author had already reached a peak and needed to regroup.
The author breaks down the mythologies about what it means to succeed, what it means to feel ordinary, what it means to compromise, what ambition looks like, and what freedom looks like. We have an obsession with perseverance in this country, where you only fail when you quit. But most of us work hard, and then at some point, we may hit a ceiling and have to refocus our energies elsewhere. I think the book's main takeaway is that it is our life in the end, and we have to design them for ourselves.
To listen to my interview with the author, go to my podcast at:
https://zibbyowens.com/transcript/rac...
The author breaks down the mythologies about what it means to succeed, what it means to feel ordinary, what it means to compromise, what ambition looks like, and what freedom looks like. We have an obsession with perseverance in this country, where you only fail when you quit. But most of us work hard, and then at some point, we may hit a ceiling and have to refocus our energies elsewhere. I think the book's main takeaway is that it is our life in the end, and we have to design them for ourselves.
To listen to my interview with the author, go to my podcast at:
https://zibbyowens.com/transcript/rac...
January 27, 2020
As someone struggling to let go of the 'writer' identity without losing all the powerful gifts that creativity brings to my life, this book helped me understand what it means to be an 'artist'/'creative' without having to make money off of that pursuit. If you're someone struggling to make it in any art form, or struggling to let go of art as the way you have to make money so that you can move on to a new phase of your life, this book is beautiful and absolutely for you.
October 6, 2020
"Feeling disappointed about something not working out is not the same as feeling disappointed in yourself. Experiencing failure is not the same as feeling like a failure. That, I realized, was the psychic line I had walked across somewhere along the way, and I needed to cross back over to the other side."
February 8, 2023
A bracing read for anyone who grew up in the 80s and was told they were "gifted" or "creative"!
December 14, 2020
Rachel Friedman - published author, freelance journalist and writer, and ex-viola prodigy finds herself facing a harsh realization in her mid 30s - that she didn't live up to her creative potential. That the success she was expected to attain by virtue of working and grinding herself with slavish devotion did not ensure her financial stability and emotional fulfillment. And so she decides to catch up with her campmates from Interlochen, an artistic camp in Michigan, to see if they had stuck to their creative and artistic side, and where it had led them.
The rest of the book is just Rachel's conversations with her friends, mixed with quotes from famous writers, artists, and philosophers, and Rachel's own thoughts on the entire thing. It's a free-flowing and easy read that takes you through a bunch of divergent stories, each with its own takeaways. Of people finding their passion, of them giving up on it, of them co-opting it, of them putting it on hiatus and so forth. Rachel picks upon some great points - the idea of the successful artist, the fallacy of passion as the only necessary ingredient, the randomness of one's career path, the role of chance in opportunities, and the option of not making one's talent a monetizable profession.
That said, this book doesn't really deliver. Not that it was touted as a self-help book on achieving creative potential but it just goes nowhere. It is a patchwork of stories that all end up inconclusively except for Rachel reconciling with her disappointments. It's neither a guideline nor a cautionary tale. The mix of stories just leave you with the impression that there is no way to determine if you must stick to that passion project or leave it. Which is a strange point to make after 220+ pages because I already sat down to read with that dilemma in my head. And so I can only rate it as much as I did.
The rest of the book is just Rachel's conversations with her friends, mixed with quotes from famous writers, artists, and philosophers, and Rachel's own thoughts on the entire thing. It's a free-flowing and easy read that takes you through a bunch of divergent stories, each with its own takeaways. Of people finding their passion, of them giving up on it, of them co-opting it, of them putting it on hiatus and so forth. Rachel picks upon some great points - the idea of the successful artist, the fallacy of passion as the only necessary ingredient, the randomness of one's career path, the role of chance in opportunities, and the option of not making one's talent a monetizable profession.
That said, this book doesn't really deliver. Not that it was touted as a self-help book on achieving creative potential but it just goes nowhere. It is a patchwork of stories that all end up inconclusively except for Rachel reconciling with her disappointments. It's neither a guideline nor a cautionary tale. The mix of stories just leave you with the impression that there is no way to determine if you must stick to that passion project or leave it. Which is a strange point to make after 220+ pages because I already sat down to read with that dilemma in my head. And so I can only rate it as much as I did.
January 18, 2020
Friedman’s debut novel, the Good Girl’s Guide To Getting Lost, is one I return to at least two times a year. It is my absolute favourite example of a memoir - she develops her scenes so beautifully that I believe I am there, describes her “characters” in ways that, while often brief, are unique and understanding. I’ve been so excited for this book to be released so that we could see what Rachel’s been up to since, beyond the little snippets of life I found in her other articles and twitter. She felt like an old friend. Therefore, when I picked this book up as my first read of the year, it caught me a bit off guard to realize that this book is much more personal essay, and less memoir. There are lengthy quotes and analytical paragraphs about OTHER books or people who have something to say about creativity, interwoven with the shorter scenes in which she visits and chats with old friends from her arts-focused summer camp they visited together in their youth. For the first third of the book, I was almost frustrated, wanting more of that memoir style writing I love so much from her.
Eventually, I began to accept the book for what it was, and that’s when I began to truly appreciate what was happening in the pages. It’s a lovely examination on what happens when we grow up and how we reconcile what our passions were as kids and if we’ve pulled them into our adult lives. It is well-researched yet easy to be drawn into, with that balance of her storytelling, scene building side. I think this is a wonderful second book, and truly hope there won’t be as long of a wait in between this one and her next (a brief explanation of why this happened is within the pages, actually!). My only quip is that sometimes I found that there was so much quotation and analysis, especially of quite well-known books and authors (Cheryl Strayed, Elizabeth Gilbert, JK Rowling), that I was skipping through a few paragraphs to get to newer information. But none of it took away from the overall interesting theme of the book. I recommend it to anyone who grew up with a talent (so, most people?) or high standards for their own performance!
Eventually, I began to accept the book for what it was, and that’s when I began to truly appreciate what was happening in the pages. It’s a lovely examination on what happens when we grow up and how we reconcile what our passions were as kids and if we’ve pulled them into our adult lives. It is well-researched yet easy to be drawn into, with that balance of her storytelling, scene building side. I think this is a wonderful second book, and truly hope there won’t be as long of a wait in between this one and her next (a brief explanation of why this happened is within the pages, actually!). My only quip is that sometimes I found that there was so much quotation and analysis, especially of quite well-known books and authors (Cheryl Strayed, Elizabeth Gilbert, JK Rowling), that I was skipping through a few paragraphs to get to newer information. But none of it took away from the overall interesting theme of the book. I recommend it to anyone who grew up with a talent (so, most people?) or high standards for their own performance!
June 16, 2022
This is one of those books that would make an interesting long magazine article, but in the end seems a little stretched out for a book. Friedman was a gifted and promising violist as a child and teen, but gave up the instrument in college. She uses the book to explore why and tracks down her pals from Interlochen to see what became of other talented and promising artists. A clever premise, and we do get some insights into creativity and potential. But a lot of it reads like a long journal with a lot of musing. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but does it make a compelling book?
May 7, 2020
I’ve read multiple books with a similar theme over the past few years—that you can have more than one passion, or fall in and out of a creative pursuit, or you’re not a failure because you do not work in a field that aligns with your younger, creative endeavors. This book is by no means novel in its thinking or end result, but it’s a gentle reminder that I am not the only one who feels the way I do when I think back at the years spent in music in elementary through high school.
July 7, 2022
This is a great book for anyone who has ever considered a career in a creative industry. Most people have what if moments. "What if I had become a musician or a writer or a painter" and this book helps deal with that tremendously. It mostly focuses on music and writing, but it's still fascinating to hear how people deal with creative balance in their lives. It's a very grounding book in some ways. It disabuses a lot of notions of the perfect life we have in our head and replaces it with a more nuanced and complicated life. The book takes some detours in pop science which are not always required but generally interesting to read through. Overall, I found this a very helpful book.
October 23, 2020
the anti-capitalist validation i needed right now
March 29, 2020
I found this immensely helpful as I follow my own creative journey!
January 14, 2020
Friedman asks the question: are you a real artist/musician/writer if you don't make a living selling your work? She did everything right, had all the support and perseverance and talent anyone could hope for and still failed to flourish. She wanted to know why and how others had handled their own lack of success. She went to her former campmates to discover that they all handled it differently. She also takes on the Art Monster myth that your art must be the one single-minded thing in your life.
This is a welcome dose of reality for anyone who thought they should make it big. It is not your fault! You don't have to give up your art just because you can't support yourself with it! Thank you Rachel Friedman for helping us all get over our disappointment.
This is a welcome dose of reality for anyone who thought they should make it big. It is not your fault! You don't have to give up your art just because you can't support yourself with it! Thank you Rachel Friedman for helping us all get over our disappointment.
March 1, 2020
I really enjoyed the beginning of this book, but somewhere between the first third and half way, the author makes a subtle shift from a fascinating look at where her creative, prodigy camp-mates ended up, as well as how it happened and how they feel about it, to a more general rant about being told that we’re special and that we can do anything if we work hard enough, and then feeling crushed and guilty when we don’t live up to that expectation and realize just how “ordinary” we actually are.
One of the author’s most insightful moments came when she realized how much easier it was for her to see her friend’s journey with understanding and compassion than it was to see her own in that way. Sadly, that insight didn’t seem to help her in reframing her own story.
Thus book is SUCH a clear example of how we see our own experiences through a particular lens and how difficult it can be to change the filter, even when we are desperate to do just that. The author seems to see her experience of “quitting” the viola as the equivalent of “crying Uncle.” She speaks of it and wonders if she should have “tried harder” or if she “gave up too soon.” What struck me in her story, however, was that there came a point when success as a professional violist was going to require from her trade-offs that she was unwilling to make. She did not, for example, want the anxiety and physical illness that came with the conservatory practices and performances. Obviously, her vision of the musical life did not include this experience, and she could not possibly have known these elements would be a part of her experience until she arrived at a certain place along the journey.
Perhaps she became stuck in that place, with a feeling of failure, because she was so young when the decision was made, and it is only with experience that we become able to let ourselves off-the-hook for doing what we know to be right even when it seems counter-intuitive or like “failure” by society’s standards. Perhaps it was also more difficult because it was like ending a relationship with a first love, one that was all-consuming and larger-than-life. Whatever the reason for so much anguish, I hope this project helped the author make peace with that part of her life.
One of the author’s most insightful moments came when she realized how much easier it was for her to see her friend’s journey with understanding and compassion than it was to see her own in that way. Sadly, that insight didn’t seem to help her in reframing her own story.
Thus book is SUCH a clear example of how we see our own experiences through a particular lens and how difficult it can be to change the filter, even when we are desperate to do just that. The author seems to see her experience of “quitting” the viola as the equivalent of “crying Uncle.” She speaks of it and wonders if she should have “tried harder” or if she “gave up too soon.” What struck me in her story, however, was that there came a point when success as a professional violist was going to require from her trade-offs that she was unwilling to make. She did not, for example, want the anxiety and physical illness that came with the conservatory practices and performances. Obviously, her vision of the musical life did not include this experience, and she could not possibly have known these elements would be a part of her experience until she arrived at a certain place along the journey.
Perhaps she became stuck in that place, with a feeling of failure, because she was so young when the decision was made, and it is only with experience that we become able to let ourselves off-the-hook for doing what we know to be right even when it seems counter-intuitive or like “failure” by society’s standards. Perhaps it was also more difficult because it was like ending a relationship with a first love, one that was all-consuming and larger-than-life. Whatever the reason for so much anguish, I hope this project helped the author make peace with that part of her life.
April 22, 2020
I think if I’d read this at another time in my life, it wouldn’t be so impactful. Rachel, who harbored goals of being a professional violist one day (but actually quit in college), delves into the idea of creativity and what we think it is, potential and what THAT is (and when do we reach it? Ever?), our expectations of our own lives, dealing with disappointment, knowing when to “quit” or compromise, not equating certain results with success (and what sooo many self-help books say about it 🙄), and so much more. I’ll post some favorite quotes or thoughts later, but this book is definitely one I’ll ruminate on...at a time in my life where I’m questioning my creativity or what I COULD have accomplished if I’d made other choices, Rachel’s book is like a healing balm. Life is such a mixed bag—it’s ok to feel content where we’re at, but also longing for what could’ve been; we can mourn something that used to be part of us or our identity, but embrace the fact that we are always changing, learning, and becoming someone new. So many good things in this book to think about. I used to identify with being an athlete, but gave that up when my college choice didn’t support it. I used to identify with a museum-curator-in the making, but gave that up to stay home with my children...so now what? Am I none of those things? Or did they just prepare me for what I’m doing now? It’s experience I’ve lived, knowledge I’ve gained, and maybe I don’t even want those things anymore, but still miss/mourn them. This is quite the long review—oops—but just really felt that reading this book can reconcile or bring peace of mind, assurance, whatever you call it, to a questioning mind. :) (Is this what midlife crisis is?? Ha!)
September 18, 2020
2.5 stars
Kelsey's review says most of what I want to say (the rambling, a little egotistical, and omgosh sooo boring).
But to add to it,
a) I thought it was going to be more about how to be more creative as an adult, since most of the time, creativity is squashed out of adulthood in pursuit of more "adulty" things. FYI, it's not. There's some "it's ok to be ordinary" (true, but not helpful) and "it's ok to quit" (still true but also not helpful).
b) It's basically a book that reunites former Interlochen Arts Camp students as a "Where are they now?" TBH, I had never heard of Interlochen before this book. Sounds like a fancy camp for kids whose parents actually encouraged their passions despite the cost. I have no experience with that whatsoever along with a huge majority of other Americans.
c) I thought I was going to scream if I read one more comparison to Ben Foster, who apparently was the most famous and/or successful person to come out of their cohort. And she didn't even contact Ben Foster, who may have similar anxieties and criticisms of himself as she and her cohorts did. After all, there are people more famous than him. But more importantly, WHY was she comparing apples and oranges? Their arts were totally different! And art is subjective! And fickle! Maybe he had a confidence in himself that she lacked which also affected their performance! And now I feel a little crazy.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from a Goodreads Giveaway in exchange for my honest review.
Kelsey's review says most of what I want to say (the rambling, a little egotistical, and omgosh sooo boring).
But to add to it,
a) I thought it was going to be more about how to be more creative as an adult, since most of the time, creativity is squashed out of adulthood in pursuit of more "adulty" things. FYI, it's not. There's some "it's ok to be ordinary" (true, but not helpful) and "it's ok to quit" (still true but also not helpful).
b) It's basically a book that reunites former Interlochen Arts Camp students as a "Where are they now?" TBH, I had never heard of Interlochen before this book. Sounds like a fancy camp for kids whose parents actually encouraged their passions despite the cost. I have no experience with that whatsoever along with a huge majority of other Americans.
c) I thought I was going to scream if I read one more comparison to Ben Foster, who apparently was the most famous and/or successful person to come out of their cohort. And she didn't even contact Ben Foster, who may have similar anxieties and criticisms of himself as she and her cohorts did. After all, there are people more famous than him. But more importantly, WHY was she comparing apples and oranges? Their arts were totally different! And art is subjective! And fickle! Maybe he had a confidence in himself that she lacked which also affected their performance! And now I feel a little crazy.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from a Goodreads Giveaway in exchange for my honest review.
May 27, 2020
I received this book through a Goodreads giveaway. I debated between giving this book two and three stars; as a formerly "gifted-and-talented" kid, and a current recently-graduated artist struggling with what I want to do with my life and constantly comparing myself to the creatives around me, I thought this book would be just perfect for me. However, it was less about artists in a broad and general sense, as I originally thought it would be, and more about the author trying to come to terms with her own obsessions about her own creativity in her life. (It was also mainly focused on music and writing and just barely mentions other art practices and disciplines.) She interviews a handful of her old friends and camp-mates, and compares her life to theirs. I found myself not caring so much about what she had to say in relation to their lives, but I did find the parts where her peers were talking much more interesting than her own ramblings and trains of thought. I also thought a lot of passages often felt repetitive, preachy, or egotistical, and therefore unrelatable. It was overall kind of boring and felt like borderline rambling a lot; I feel like this could have been edited down into a blog post or magazine article, rather than being its own entire book. I really tried to like it, and I gave it three stars instead of two because I did find some of the messages about creativity helpful to me as I'm in a place in my life where I'm questioning what I should do right out of school, but without those little nuggets I found useful I would have given it two.
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