“I was a late bloomer. But anyone who blooms at all, ever, is very lucky.”
–Sharon Olds
Poet, Sharon Olds, was awarded a Pulitzer Prize in 2013 for her raw, candid and emotional work in “Stag’s Leap” (Alfred A. Knopf). It is described as “a book of unflinching poems on the author’s divorce that examine love, sorrow and the limits of self-knowledge.”
I can relate to this quote. I consider myself a late bloomer, too. I didn’t start writing until I was in my late 30s. But yes, I feel lucky to have bloomed at all. Generations of women who came before me weren’t so fortunate. Now I think the challenge is to be a perennial and pass on what I call the “spark” (or the seed, if you want to stick with the bloom analogy).
In my Fearless Writing for Women groups (this coming Friday marks Week 6 of the Fall 2014 class), I feel honored to be surrounded by so many beautiful and dynamic blooms. Honestly, it’s like a greenhouse in there! The writing and courage of these women has been absolutely amazing. I am so proud of them. And proud of myself for having something to offer them.
Do you consider yourself a late bloomer? What do you think is the upside of being one? As always, I welcome your thoughts.
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P.S. If you love this blog, you may also love my book, Fearless Writing for Women: Extreme Encouragement and Writing Inspiration, a collection of my best blog posts over the last six years, as well as some new material.
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Thanks for reading! xo











Funny, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately as I both send out queries to agents and stress about reassembling my copywriting portfolio at middle age. It’s something that depresses me a lot, even I appreciate her spin on it that anyone who blooms is lucky. Earlier in life I listened to other people who supposedly knew more than I did about what was good for me and what would work. Wish I could have those years back. At the same time, when I did try writing when I was younger, I didn’t have as much to say. Andre Gregory says you should spend your twenties and thirties exploring life and gathering the materials for the art you’ll create later, or something to that effect. I think he’s right. Whenever these new prodigies burst onto the world with a book deal at 26 and a hit HBO series at 27 I find their “observations” about life rather trite and shallow, and furthermore they think they’re the first ones who’ve noticed this. However, as someone in the biz pointed out, they’re catering to the people who watch that stuff, who are also about the same age.
Sadly, it seems to be a tendency, in America at least, that as people get older (closer to OUR age) a lot of them “grow up” and stop caring about art and growing exploring (if some still care about art it’s primarily as a status symbol thing). I can’t tell you how often I’ve seen middle-aged people at a used bookshop selling their whole collection. “Well, I’m a grown up now, what do I need with Kurt Vonnegut and JD Salinger now? Gotta make room in the attic. Haven’t read since college.” Seems to me if you reread those books now they’d speak a lot more loudly than they did when you were 24. But most people abandon art right when it seems it’d do them the most good.
Anyway, my rambling nickel.
Hi John,
I love it when you ramble. You say a lot of thoughtful things, worth much more than a nickel.
These days, I tend to avoid the shallow end of the pool altogether and jump right into the deep end. There aren’t that many people swimming there, but those are the people I find interesting. The paradox is: it seems there are more people drowning in the shallow end than the deep. Not the greatest metaphor. Perhaps we should move to a villa by the ocean and forget the pool altogether?
Oh, I don’t know, I like that metaphor just fine. What’s wrong with it? Or the paradox at least.
Gosh. What a fun question! I just tried out for my first theatrical production. Have no idea if I got a part of not, but I’m having fun searching for new ways to bloom at age sixty.
Hi John, nothing wrong with the metaphor. The world is full of paradoxes. Nothing is as it seems, as we’ve said before. I guess I backed away from claiming it because I didn’t want to sound like the 1% living in my elite villa! lol.
Hi Barbara, that’s TERRIFIC that you tried out for your first theatrical production! Very brave of you. I hope you get the part.
I love that you are searching for new ways to bloom! May we all do the same.
Yes, but the 1% have such great espresso in their elite villas!
BTW, “Imagining Welsey Shaw.” Been thinking of a title change. Growing more fond of it every day.
I’ve always wanted to try out for a theatrical production of My Dinner With Andre. I figure I’d get a good meal out of it at the very least.
John I think you are spot on. I have been thinking lately it would be good to re-read those novels I read in high school and college, because – like you said – I’m SURE I’d get a lot more out of them, or at least something different.