Sometimes in our writing journey we feel we are all alone. No one else shares our frustrations, insecurities. We hear virtual whoo hoos and happy dancing things and, yes, are truly happy for other people as they score in the game of writing. But the second thought can be, but when will it be me?
I love this: Don’t compare your insides with someone else’s outsides. I have a number of friends who almost gave up several times. More than not, the journey was very long – way longer than they thought it would be. I’m guilty of that thought. Every writer should love their work. Think their work is special. I keep telling myself it will come. And I know it will.
But a friend told me on Monday that she keeps to the middle of the pack. What she means is she doesn’t hang out on the fringe, where all the animals are that drag you down. She went on to explain that she keeps engaging, participating, showing up. The rest (the sales/career results) will follow.
It is either the fearless writer in me that wants to go to a secluded getaway and write with focused abandon, or the insecure writer part of me that wants to hide out. I have obligations and reasons I can’t do that right now.
But perhaps that kind of forced hibernation is what my friend was talking about. We have to face the reality of things the way they are. Sucks sometimes. Doing honesty works better for me. God knows, I can make up stories. Been doing it my whole life. But making up stories about one’s own life isn’t healthy. They send you to hospitals for that sort of behavior. Doing fiction about the reality of life is like jumping out of an airplane without a chute.
Now is one of those times I have to look into the mirror and tell the truth. Write when it’s hard. Write to develop the writing muscle. It isn’t all inspiration and soft music. Sometimes it’s gritty. Even when the words are fluff and you have to start all over.
I love the idea of being EASY TO START AND HARD TO STOP. On a morning like today, I know it will get hot and my plants will wilt if I don’t water them early enough. Watering them in the cool hours of the early morning means they will thrive in the heat and give me flowers. Just like writing the words now that will later be polished, where the sparkle and magic will be added.
For today, I’ll stay in the middle of the pack, stay on the blogs and loops, and celebrate with everyone else. I’ll suspend my doubts and lack of confidence. And wait my turn, while doing the best I can do to write the best story I can write.
Because writing on a day like today is way more important than writing when I feel like it.