I started writing seriously in fourth grade. Every day before school and after school. During classes, too. I was hooked on the inherent joy of storytelling.
By the time I was a senior in high school, I’d learned that no one could “get a job” as a novelist. Writing was something you had to do on your own, which meant you needed a career that provided you with lots of extra time. Who had lots of extra time? English teachers, of course. They had their summers off, plus work days that ended around 3:00 in the afternoon, right? If I wanted to write full-time, all day, becoming a high school English teacher would be the first step towards my goal.
I applied to the University of New Hampshire, which I’d heard was a great school for English teachers. In the fall I entered as an English Teaching major. Right away I got completely caught up in my studies, and started working as a substitute teacher at a local middle school. I was fascinated with different philosophies of education, with how students learn to read and write. I learned new approaches to reading and talking about literature. Over the course of four years I was offered multiple part-time positions at the school where I was subbing, first as a Spanish translator for a student from Mexico, then as a special-education aide. A long-term classroom sub.
All of which is to say I fell in love with teaching. I wrote the whole time, just as obsessively as ever, but now I there was something else that I cared about.
I had an unofficial advisor at UNH, a brilliant man named John Yount. He was so important to me that I mentioned him in the Acknowledgements of my book. John was a novelist, and had attended the Iowa Writer’s Workshop. When he asked one day what I planned to do when I graduated, I told him I wanted to teach – and he said I’d be crazy if I did. It was a huge surprise for me, because he’d always been so supportive. Teaching would take up all my time, he explained. By then I’d seen enough teachers at work to know that he was right. Still, I had my feet firmly planted in two separate (but adjoining) rooms, and John’s sudden admonition made me drop two anchors. I believed him, but I wanted two things. I wanted to write and to teach.
When I graduated, I became a middle-school language arts teacher, one who still had every intention of becoming a novelist, but who was extremely happy with his day job. The year was 1996.
A few years passed. In May of 2017, my first novel was published. It’s called Ginny Moon. If you’re reading this blog, chances are you’ve heard of it.
A debut novel requires a tremendous amount of support from the publishing team – and that includes the writer. My publisher wanted me to do a lot of traveling: a month-long prepublication tour, and a month-long book tour. Both were necessary in order to give the book the best possible chance of success. Also, there would be articles I had to write, and I needed to finish my second book. I was happy to do all of these things – ecstatic, actually, and filled with more gratitude and pinch-me-I’m-dreaming joy that I ever could have imagined. I planned to take two months of leave, but when I made the official request, my superintendent said no. Two months was just too long.
So I resigned. Leaving my position was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. I knew I could come back to teaching afterward, though in a different district. The position I’d left would be long-gone by then.
But just as I learned that teachers don’t really stop working when the bell rings at the end of the day (ever respond to reading-journals until midnight?), I quickly learned that for a very long time I’d been burning a candle at both ends. Writing as obsessively as I’d been writing, while teaching full-time, was having a serious impact on both my writing and my teaching. I was a wreck and hadn’t know it.
I’ve come to the conclusion that I can’t have it all. Not if “all” means being both a novelist and a public-school teacher at the same time. I’m writing full-time right now, and trying to squeeze in a bit of teaching where I can. All my friends are colleagues at the middle school are already into their first week of the school year, while I’m at home, writing. I have what I set out to achieve way back in high school. I would never go back and choose the other option – giving up the tours and time in order to keep my teaching job – but I’m not even close to being done with teaching. Teaching has been a part of who I am for a long, long time. And I like it that way.
Ever find yourself in possession of the thing you’ve always wanted, only to find out that you’ve become someone who now wants more than that? I still have both of my feet in adjoining rooms, but I have a feeling it will always be a balancing act.
Ben –
Congrats on your novel and the praise it is receiving. It seems like you were at Bartlett not that long ago, but the 2017 on my calendar tells a different story. There has been some turnover on the middle school team, but a few of us ‘old teachers’ are still around, and excited to go in every day to work at inspiring kids. You are still teaching, just to a much larger group of learners. Best of luck as you continue your journey.
Joe Yahna
Hi Joe,
So good to hear from you – and thanks for your kind words. Does Voci still call you Silverback? Do say hello to him for me, and to everyone else who might still be around. I think it was 1998, when I was there. You’re right that it feels like yesterday.
All the best,
Ben
I loved Ginny Moon. There has to be a sequel coming. When do you think it may be available? It should include a romantic subplot. To learn more about autism in females–which is different from autism in males–I would recommend books by Rudy Simone, as part of your research. There is also a Scientific American article called Autism–It’s Different in Girls. I am a woman on the spectrum but higher functioning than Ginny, and older, and probably smarter, so I was not diagnosed until late in life (when I was growing up, autism was poorly understood and frequently missed in girls unless they had low intelligence). Mostly I appear normal but a 9 to 5 office life is still a stressful minefield to an autistic adult, especially if you are female and people expect you to have the high level of sociability and emotional intelligence normal women do (it is more acceptable for men to be aloof/geeky and logical). I loved The Rosie Project but am so glad that someone wrote about an autistic female character.
Hi Ginny Fan,
So glad you enjoyed the book! Right now I’m hard at work on a new novel, so there aren’t any plans for a Ginny-sequel. However, Ginny’s adventures continue each month in my newsletter, if you’re interested. The sign-up is at http://www.benjaminludwig.com/newsletter.
I will certainly check out the books by Rudy Simone, as well as the article in Scientific American. Many thanks for recommending those resources. I think you’re right that society is a lot more tolerant of aloofness/geekiness in males than in women.
Did you know that Graeme Simsion is writing a third Rosie book? He let me know just recently. I was glad to hear it.
Cheers,
Ben
I just finished reading GINNY MOON. My wife, who reads so many more books than I read, thankfully passed your book on to me. I loved it, just loved it, and I have already passed it on to many others. I have been a pediatrician for over 30 years and my experience and interactions with children and adolescents and their parents made me feel like I knew Ginny, that I understood her, that I loved her. Your creative approach to Ginny’s story was unexpectedly suspenseful, while making her simultaneously so frustrating and endearing. Thank you for putting your insight into such a great novel.
Hi Eric,
You’re more than welcome — and thank *you* for your kind words, and for understanding Ginny so well. I hope other readers appreciate her as much as you did.
With thanks,
Ben
Just finished reading the novel. In Hebrew.
Enjoyed it so much, could not let it off reading whole weekend long.
I feel so warm feeling for Ginny, who also reflected to me:
That we all have some Ginny , some “Spectrum powder” around us:
We are not all with perfect communication skills , nor courage to share our feeling , or to even to admit them or recognize them – ‘on the spot’ … .
Many of us are not “talking straight and clear”
As we all have some Ginny as part of us, indeed this story teaches us: compassion to others as well as to ourself as well, adherence to others , lot of modesty and opportunity for growth.
Thank you for taking the path of writing this !
Lily