If I had to tell anyone how anything gets written I would say little by little. This was something I needed to remind myself of yet again in my life as I got knocked off track by monster fatigue which in turn shot my concentration to pieces. This in turn ramped up my anxiety and that bitch loves to run her mouth and lie her ass off to me whenever she gets an opportunity.
The big thought I had to work through was feeling like I couldn’t write at all, that I had to be doing something else though exactly what that was wasn’t clearly defined to me at all. This is an old thought I’ve dealt with all my adult life and frankly I’m sick of it. Its’ origins are in my past when I was trying to find time to write in the midst of a shit-ton of responsibilities. Back then I felt like a huge thief whenever I sat down to write and I felt even worse whenever I went to my writers’ group meetings or conferences and workshops though not from my parents (who paid my writers’ group dues, conference and workshop fees so I go to those events).
But my parents have been dead and there are no demands on my time other than my need to earn money to keep a roof over my head and food in my belly along with taking care of my dog and my cat. So why do I still feel this way? I blame imprinting on my brain that I’m having to remove like a tattoo. And that’s not easy because the imprinting is pretty deep, but also because I also have to remove a thought that taking time for what I want to do makes me a selfish bitch.
No, it doesn’t though for me writing has seen as something that is selfish and self-serving. And the worst part of that is then being told how to write by people who don’t write to begin with. How people find the confidence to spout off on stuff they have absolutely no real knowledge of is a mystery I don’t want to solve because the people who do this will never admit they have a problem in the first place.
This isn’t about talking shit back to the assholes in life past and present. This is to people who are writing or pursuing something they want to do. It’s about telling yourself often enough to imprint this on your brain that things get done little by little. Nothing comes out fully-formed and perfect. It takes a lot of work to get something to come together and anyone who says otherwise is full of shit.
I have had days where I wrote thousands of words and days where I wrote none (or deleted them all). On a good day I can average a thousand or more. The thing is, each writing project presents its’ own challenges and you have to work through those challenges in order to get things written.
For example, one big challenge with ‘Breaking Radio Silence’ is how emotionally-charged it is for me. I tried working on it over the weekend and it was like walking through a minefield. Emotions were going off hard inside me and I had to really work through them to figure out the root cause. Once I did I felt better and today I got another chapter started and another piece written outside of that chapter. All in all a good writing day in addition to this.
All my life people have told me what to do saying they know what’s best for me and that I don’t know what’s good for me. I think it was because they saw how overprotective my father was of me and also because I am a complete and utter klutz. But just because I’m a klutz doesn’t mean I’m an idiot or a weak-ass wimp. Because when the shit came down with my parents, I was the last one left standing shouldering all the responsibility. Once I realized this about myself I also realized I’m not an idiot and that my years of experience count. That experience counts more than someone’s dumb-ass bullshit to me.
I’ve never attempted or written a full-length book of non-fiction before but that doesn’t mean I can’t now. It’s not going to be easy but trust me, I know writing isn’t easy. And I don’t need anyone to sugar-coat that for me or get all over-protective and shit about it either. Most of all, I don’t need anyone storming off in a huff saying I’m rejecting their help. Unless you’ve got professional editing skills I can use later, I don’t need your help writing this.
One last thought I had over the weekend was this: I am a grown-ass middle-aged woman with nothing to lose and no need to hide any shit from the world. You’ll see this on Friday with a new blog feature I’m working on.
I know this won’t go over well with some people but my purpose in life is not to be quiet and please people with my silence. Read my words at your own peril and know this: my silence is broken.