As kids, we’re told to follow our passions. But that vague advice often doesn’t align with the economic realities of getting by in the so-called adult world. How can a person still live an artistic life, even if it doesn’t quite align with childhood expectations? Once a serious violinist, Rachel Friedman . . . interviews her cohort of campers at Interlochen Arts Camp to see how their own dreams unfolded, and what they’ve done with their creative ambition. A must-read for anyone who has, well, grown up.”
—Refinery29
“Do you make resolutions for New Year’s Eve? Before you do, go out and grab Rachel Friedman’s new book, And Then We Grew Up . . . I recommend both of her books [And Then We Grew Up and The Good Girl’s Guide to Getting Lost] . . . as you begin a new decade!”
—Ms. Magazine
“Insightful . . . ably illustrates many forms creativity can take. . . . Anyone who’s ever looked back longingly at an old passion and wondered what might have been will find an empathetic friend in Friedman.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“An excellent keyhole into the inner life of those who quit.”
—Publishers Weekly’s Best Books 2019
“There are plenty of books about people who follow their artistic dreams to glory. Rachel Friedman asks, ‘How about some books where we focus on gracefully giving up on something?’ And Then We Grew Up is a fine specimen of the sort. . . . [an] amiable look at the state of the artist.”
—Shelf Awareness
“An intriguing…exploration of talent and expectation. Why some people combine ability, luck, grit, and opportunity to break away from the pack while others quit remains unanswerable, but Friedman explores the topic with an appealing mix of trepidation and curiosity. . . . For creative types, Friedman takes the pressure off, redefining success in more ways than reaching the limelight.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“In this funny, insightful book, Rachel Friedman asks hard questions and actually comes up with some answers. It’s a must read for everyone who struggles to find a path, fulfill their potential, make a living, and make a life.”
—Emily Gould, author of Friendship
“And Then We Grew Up is real as hell and made me feel so seen. Friedman captures so perfectly the endless quest to be a functional happy person in the world who is also, somehow, an art monster. Searching, honest, and generous, this book is a consoling and revealing meditation on making peace with your life.”
—Meaghan O’Connell, author of And Now We Have Everything
“Advice about doing what you love often clashes with reality in midlife. In her thoughtful, generous book—a kind of The Big Chill reckoning for mid-life creatives—Rachel Friedman explores how she and her talented childhood friends reached various states of disillusionment and fulfillment. And Then We Grew Up is the perfect gift for anyone trying to reconcile a desire to write, play music, or make art with more pedestrian desires, like having a family, food on the table, or peace of mind.”
—Ada Calhoun, author of Wedding Toasts I’ll Never Give
“Did you grow up pointed in an artistic direction? Did you not but wonder about those who did? Do you have kids of your own with art in their hearts? If yes on any of those, And Then We Grew Up will be of interest on a dozen levels. With candor and humor and perfect intonation, Rachel Friedman gets at one of the biggest questions of all: What happens to us as we get older?”
—Chris Colin, author of What to Talk About and What Really Happened to the Class of ’93
“An insightful, informative, and unexpectedly heartfelt look at all of the ways in which art touches our lives. Friedman reminds us that even if we hang up our dance shoes, neglect our paint set, or box up our musical instruments, creativity never really leaves us.”
—Geraldine DeRuiter, author of All Over the Place: Adventures in Travel, True Love, and Petty Theft
“In And Then We Grew Up, Rachel Friedman is a wise and funny guide through a tangle of hard questions about art, work, and life—about what it means to ‘make it,’ about the many shades of success and failure, and about the search for fulfillment through creativity. Brave enough to examine her own biases, assumptions, and hangups, she provides a way forward for the rest of us who have wrestled with these questions, too. Essential reading for anyone who wonders about the role of creativity and art in their life.”
—Eva Holland, author of Nerve: A Personal Journey Through the Science of Fear
2019-09-15
A writer and former violist examines the delicate divide between giving up on a dream and moving forward.
When she was 11, Friedman (The Good Girl's Guide to Getting Lost: A Memoir of Three Continents, Two Friends, and One Unexpected Adventure, 2011) attended summer camp at the prestigious Interlochen Center for the Arts, which "stoked…an ambition to achieve musical greatness." Years later, she abandoned the musical path she'd thought would propel her to glory and turned to writing. Dismayed by her "failed potential," she interviewed her Interlochen classmates to learn where their ambitions led. Conversational anecdotes, memories, popular science, research on creativity, and a medley of quotes from Joan Didion, J.K. Rowling, and others form an intriguing, sometimes-indulgent exploration of talent and expectation. Why some people combine ability, luck, grit, and opportunity to break away from the pack while others quit remains unanswerable, but Friedman explores the topic with an appealing mix of trepidation and curiosity. Once a fan of the myth that true "art monsters" are single-minded individuals who sacrifice everything for the sake of mastery, the author encountered adults whose quieter pursuits challenged her conception of contentment. From a high school music teacher who balances creativity with family life to a scriptwriter who doesn't equate the time he spends working with what he gets in return to a dancer-turned-Pilates instructor, her classmates paint a mature alternative to the winner-take-all view of a fruitful life. Though they often dwell on self-criticism, Friedman's reflections on her own zigzagging journey are striking and raw. The author chronicles familiar doubts and daydreams on alternative futures with a bemused tone that changes over time. Sections on social media's tendency to fuel comparisons add tension to already heavy ideals. When the author finds that an ordinary life after a precocious start is fine, it's anticlimactic but palpably relieving.
For creative types, Friedman takes the pressure off, redefining success in more ways than reaching the limelight.
