Don’t Hold Yourself Back, There’s Too Much Left to Write
“I remember what it felt like when I first decided that I wanted to begin telling stories. It was as if my will to create had become a part of me. So much so, I never did anything by the book, and I was proud of it. I never took the time to make any plans, I just let the story take hold. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I missed that. The reason I have so many unfinished projects, the reason I find myself falling out of love with what I’ve sometimes written, is that I’ve only come to realize just how much my writing has changed. How much I have changed. I can’t apologize for that.”
This morning feels different. I feel different. Last night, for the first time in a long time, I wrote without direction, without a plan. Now, I can’t begin to tell you just how good that felt. As I sit here writing this in the middle of the week, I realize that it doesn’t feel forced. I know that there have been a lot of factors that have impacted my ability to keep it together, and in turn, impacted the way I write. I used to feel everything at a pace I was comfortable with, and I could channel everything humbly. I could channel everything and use it to the best of my ability. Sometimes I ask myself, what happened? When did I become so unsure of everything that even my writing had begun to suffer.
I never want to have to question why I write. I should never have to.
Over the course of the last few months, my writing has become somewhat of a chore, and that is something I can’t live with. I remember the first few larger novels I read, and how enraptured they’d leave me. I remembered wanting to be able to convey such a message and impact people in just the same way. I know that I haven’t been working hard enough. I know that is no one else’s fault but my own. So, with all that being said, I’m taking this opportunity to do something about it.
Fiction has always been the majority of my output, but what I’ve come to realize is the reason I’m feeling so off balance is because there is so much real, raw story I have yet to convey. Surely, I have not enough to write an entire novel, but I can no longer base my novels on a subtle idea. I can’t make a difference in my writing unless I stay true to what my writing style has become, instead of trying to conform to what it was. I was a girl that never failed to have an idea, I was a girl that was proud of every unexpected turn of events that would come with being a writer. There is no easy way out, strong intent may leave you wanting to accomplish something, but it surely won’t get you far. My goal is to begin enjoying the process like I used to, to appreciate the craft like I used to. I did it because I loved it, not because I felt like I had to.
Keep at it.