(Leonardo da Vinci)
As a kid taking piano lessons, once I’d learned to play a piece I was ready to move on instead of really getting good at the piece. In my professional life I’d work at a job for four years, get pretty good at it, then move on. When it comes to writing, when people ask why I’ve written in so many genres, I smile and say, “Short attention span.” They laugh, but I used to wonder if there was something wrong with my brain. Why do I skip from thing to thing? Instead of writing in the same genre and building up a loyal following, I’ve written picture books, beginning readers, middle grade novels, memoir, nonfiction, and romantic adventure stories about 11th century Spain, pirates, Queen Elizabeth I, an ancient Peruvian civilization, and ghosts. (The thought of writing a series, with the same characters and similar settings, gives me the same claustrophobic reaction as tight spaces.)
When I learned to play the ukulele well enough to play some pretty songs, I then moved on.
Talk about an inability to focus, right?
Many years ago my friend Cindy and I were complaining about this over glasses of wine. She shares with me the same inability to stick with any one thing very long. The phrase that comes to mind is “Jack of all trades, master of none.”
There is, of course, a heavy dose of judgement in this lovely phrase, which I hear as, “If only you’d stop flitting about and focus, you could actually get good at something.”
Then Cindy showed me a book she’d just discovered: The Renaissance Soul: Life Design for People With Too Many Passions to Pick Just One, by Margaret Lobenstine.
I no longer have the book; got misplaced somewhere along the way, but basically the author’s premise is this: There’s nothing wrong with you. Some people’s brains just prefer the stimulation of doing new things, of experiencing one hobby or interest or job enough to satisfy, then wanting to try something else. The classic example of this is Leonardo da Vinci, a true Renaissance man.
An online dictionary defines a Renaissance person as an outstandingly versatile, well-rounded person. The expression alludes to such Renaissance figures as Leonardo de Vinci, who performed brilliantly in many different fields.
I don’t ’perform brilliantly,’ and I certainly hesitate to call myself ‘outstanding,’ but my brain is happy skipping from one stone in the pond to the next one, and then the next one. I like the phrase “Renaissance soul” much better than “Jack of all trades, master of none.” :-)
Are you a Renaissance soul? You might enjoy the book, although it’s been so long since I’ve read it that I can’t say for sure. It has a new cover now:
If you are a Renaissance soul, then you might enjoy this book as well:
I know I’m not the only “Renaissance soul” in the room. I see you!
Thanks for reading and for staying interested as I do my Renaissance “thing” in this weekly Substack, skipping from topic to topic. Writing this for you is my favorite thing, and I so appreciate you continuing to read it even though you never know what stone I’m going to skip to next.
Thank you for this. When I was younger, I was sometimes criticized for "not having enough stick-to-itiveness. I liked to think that it was rather that I could see where a certain experience was heading and knew when a detour was needed. And, we only get to experience a small slice of spectrum of what's possible, so why not reach for all that you can and have fun failing or succeeding, then moving on to what's next?
I enjoy the variety of your writing! It's a cliché, but the more variety of thinkers and personalities we have the more vibrant our world is. I am pretty much the opposite: same career for 30+ years, fell in love with biking, cooking and gardening at a young age, volunteering for the same organizations for ages.