Pushcarts on the Road

by Mandira Pattnaik

Adi Suryanata

As writers, we often fret over third-person bios, compulsory companion to submitted work. In private conversations, a writer I know lamented: “there goes my potential Pushcart, for my bio wasn’t good enough!” Little or no publication credits is cited as a reason by writers, me no exception, for their work not finding takers. Conversely, the more accomplished are found experiencing a problem of plenty, which to include and what to leave out.

For DASH magazine, which asked for a 4–6 word bio, I remember having used, “Dared to Dream. Here I am,” and the subsequent thrill of phrasing it so perfectly. Not sure if it appeared, though, because it was supposed to be used on social media (which I did not check), and not on the print copy.

Recently, I was asked to write an even shorter bio, preferably one word, and it came as a flash of lightning: “Outsider.” Submitting it to the editor, I self-congratulated, again. Brilliant of me to come up with something so accurate: me, a perpetual outsider to everything. It’s been like that since I can think of. As I child, I was always questioning, challenging what was expected of me, and doing what nobody was contemplating. Yet, a few days ago, I was surprised to discover “Outsider” wasn’t all that revolutionary or new. It was used by Jane Austen in a letter in 1800. In the 1980s, “outsider art” was used synonymously with “Art Brut” to mean creative art produced by an outsider, usually untrained, typically belonging to marginalized classes, and embracing unconventionality by circumstances, rather than choice. The term encompassed painter Horace Pippin, and sculptor William Edmondson, among others. “Art Brut” came to define raw and unrefined art.

Words carry weight, particularly when you become aware of these things. Like a cross to carry. And defend. The very opposite of what I wanted “Outsider” to mean: a bohemian, carefree word that could stand for my identity and my work. Another of my ignorances, another thing to learn! I did find other instances of writers using it to refer to their origins, and I think the word does its bit, in fact, a fair share of work. “Outsider” means disruption and newness, and hence it stands for rebellion, and therefore, brimming with possibilities which only art can bring. Nevertheless, I’ll perhaps be more cautious of its use.

Again, may I use the example of “tramp” since we are here at trampset? Although the word “tramp” was used in the early Victorian period to refer to the homeless, it quickly became a word with wide usage, especially for people with a love “for the road.” Author Bart Kennedy wrote of himself in 1900 America: “I listen to the tramp, tramp of my feet, and wonder where I was going, and why I was going.” I marvel at how this sentence is a declaration, alluding to the way wanderings are a source of rich literary material. Perfect to add to a bio that promises exciting adventure!

I love musing on word choices — specificity, context, appropriateness, formality — and I’m of the view only the most refined authors can do that with exemplary authority. “The girl was bony” might suggest unhealthy, but “the girl was slender” does not pass judgement. Editors have a keen eye and perked-up ears to catch them. If you are a new writer like me, it is always a cause of palpitation: correct word choice. Pen on paper, statue-like, I wonder: Do I want to convey this exact emotion? Am I sure my chosen locution does it for me? It’s petrifying, particularly for a non-native English speaker!

I take heart from a recent reading of an article on Jane Austen (here she comes again!). Augusta Bramston, who was a friend, and to whom the author had given a copy of Pride and Prejudice, called it “downright nonsense,” and Austen had recorded this in her own handwriting. That spirit of joyfulness in choice of words and references, rather than of regret, is something that could come in handy.

I believe there are no correct answers to either bio or written work, but to look closer, deeper, at each other. Check for resonance and boldness. Finally, make it your own, take risks and have fun.