Type Tests and Writing

Well, I just took a Myers-Briggs test (again), in preparation for type-testing my characters. I found (again) that I’m an INFJ. I always forget what my middle two letters are, though I’m sure about that I and that J! but it’s been pretty consistently INFJ, and when I read the description, it fits. It’s almost a relief: oh, okay, that’s who I am. It’s okay that I prefer time alone, it’s normal that I think very, very hard about all the people I know, and try to make sense of why they do what they do. It’s okay that I have a few very close friends, and am not attracted to the social butterfly stuff people tell me I should be attracted to. It’s okay that I think that every. thing. matters. And matters gloriously.

(Also explains why I'm so very interested in the whole world, but so very reluctant to share myself with it.)

I was taking the type test today, though, not to find out so much about myself, but to find out more about the main characters in my work-in-progress.

And, after taking the type test myself, I realized that the best thing to do would be to take it again, twice, once answering the way my hero would answer, and once answering the way my heroine would answer.

I’d thought that I’d just scan through the 16 type descriptions, and see which ones looked most like my characters. But I think I might find it better by actually going through the test as Thomas, and then as Eve.

It does sound like a lot of work, to go through all those questions as somebody else. I want to say, McCoy-style, "I'm a writer, not an actor, Jim!" But I think it'll be worth it.


By the way, it’s interesting to see that people who are my type, INFJ, are often writers. The other things they often are? Psychologists, religious leaders, or librarians. Which I thought was kind of cool, because when I’ve contemplated grad school, the two things I often thought about doing were going for either my Psy.D. or a Masters of Library Science.

It used to be that whenever I attended a college graduation, I felt sad, because I wasn’t graduating. I love school. Love it. But at the last graduation I attended – my brother’s – I didn’t feel sad. I finally realized that I was going after my advanced degree. That pursuing a career as a novelist – all the work and research and networking I’ve been doing – is the equivalent of working on a grad degree in my chosen field. The only thing is that my degree isn’t going to come in the form of a hood and diploma; my degree is going to be my name on the spine of a book.

It’s scary, because there’s no guarantee I’ll get there. And I’ve always thought of myself as the type who goes for the sure thing. But the truth is, for me, if I’m going to spend the time on really going after advanced studies, it’s going to be in writing, and not in psychology or library studies. So the reason I'm doing it is because it’s the only way to get what I want. Despite the chance-y nature of the thing.

It’s weird to be surprised by the fact that you’re a risk-taker. I never thought I was.

peace of Christ to you,
Jessica Snell

p.s. The other really weird thing about the Myers-Briggs test is that my husband is my exact opposite: an ESTP. Moreover, where my I and J are my strongest categories, his strongest are those middle two letters: the S and the T. Where I'm middling on my N and F, he's middling on his E and P. I think that's very funny.