We sometimes talk about those who have impacted us as our “influences.” If that terms feels comfortable to you, then you can absolutely continue to use it. I first got exposed to it through English class. So-and-so writer influenced so-and-so writer in the next generation, which—in an English textbook—made the literary lineage of the entire literary canon quite tidy and trackable.
I’m uncomfortable with the implications of this for a couple reasons:
The crossover of influences is rarely so tidy as it appears in an English class paper. The more you make and the more you study makers, you start to see the ways that “influences” flow in on all sides. So the term itself isn’t as useful as it could be.
In today’s terms, using the word “influence” introduces a power dynamic that can be misused. For example, “influencer” is a job title now. Their audience is “influenced” through social media and other channels, often through paid product placement.
I prefer to use terms that encourage more agency on all sides.
So I started using “literary elder” when I name someone in my literary lineage. I throw lots of writers in that category, from all sorts of different literary eras: Shakespeare, Toni Morrison, Beverly Cleary, Jane Austen, Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés, J. K. Rowling, etc.
But the term itself isn’t as important as the process that’s true to my experience:
I inherit from my literary elder, the same way I inherit from the flesh-and-blood elders in my own family. I have the ability to carry that inheritance into the next generation. I also have the ability to take my inheritance and transform it into something that fits me better.
Both elder and inheritor are each complete and whole individuals, doing their best in their specific circumstances. They have influenced me, of course, because I am inheriting the world they helped to create.
But I decide what to do with it. And in most cases, they’re older than me, which means that if all goes as planned, I have more time left on the planet. That means I have more time to finish and share more new creations. In other words, through my creations, I’m still shaping what I’ll do with that inheritance, a task that lasts as long as my life does.
So, when I call another my literary elder, I honor what I have received from them, and I also tell you where it shows up in my work. I do this to remind each and every person reading this that you are also a whole and complete creator, with agency to decide what you’ll do with your inheritance as you make and grow throughout your life.
Of course, this includes myself.
Literary Lineage Swings Both Ways
I’m not truly old enough to be a literary elder. I feel like I’m only at the very beginning of my legacy. However, since I’ve been writing for young people since I was 23, I do acknowledge that my creations—especially my series, The Ever Afters—have had an impact on those younger than me.
With the Journeypen Project, and other offerings I’ve already released about the writing craft in years past, my creative impact on others will extend past my novels. Likely, it already has,
So, even though I’m too young to be a literary elder, when I was working with Clarinda Braun, founder of the Matriarchal Business, she encouraged me to be a “literary auntie.” That term feels much more comfy to me, especially since I have a nephew.
However, I do make an effort to name my literary and/or other creative elders here. Learning from these individuals has helped me immensely, and I want to publicly recognize this creative lineage as one of my hidden roots, which nourishes my creative process.
Eldership—Beyond Literary
As I mentioned before, creative inheritance comes from all directions. The impact of your creative elders nourish you as a maker, and their creative legacy is a hidden root feeding your own process.
But it would be silly of me to act like these creative elders only come from my chosen field. Not all of them are novelist. A lot of them aren’t writers at all.
For example, my mom isn’t a writer—she’s a painter, but she is definitely one of my creative elders. I’ve learned a lot about creativity from watching her and talking about the creative process with her. Furthermore, she learned a lot from Georgia O’Keefe, another painter, so O’Keefe is one of my creative elders too. Specifically, O’Keefe is a creative elder I inherited from my mother’s creative lineage.
So, if you’re wondering about your own creative elders, I encourage you to think beyond your own particular medium when you start making a list.
Here are a handful of elders in my lineage:
Creative Elders (specific to my family):
Mom
Mimi
Morin
Grandma Randol
Business Elders:
my dad
Wisdom-Weaving Elders
Dr. Brené Brown
Dialogue-Writing Elders
Shakespeare
Joss Whedon
screenwriters, directors, and actors from the screwball comedy era
Explore Further
For more on the less known part of the process that feeds every creative project, please see Hidden Roots.
For more on tracking the thread between your creative/literary elders, see Literary Lineage.