Remember that post from the beginning of this month? The one where I was so ambitious with my writing goals? Yeah, that one. I knew when I thought those goals up, let alone committed them to the keyboard and screen, that they were going to be a long shot. Still I believed it was a shot worth shooting. I had to aim high even though the probability of my follow through was low. I knew it would have been even lower had I set more attainable goals. That’s just how my mind works right now. I’ll just have to work to change it. Even the time in my car displays six minutes ahead. I know it’s the wrong time. When it says 2:56, I know it’s actually 2:50. Still, there’s just something about that setting that makes me think I’m ahead of the game.
In the same vein, that was the idea behind my December writing goals. Though I must admit, somewhere down in my soul, there was a part of me that thought I could do it. There was a part of me that thought I could instantly become that girl simply because I wanted to. There was a part of me, the big dreamer in me, that believed. And while I can’t say that there isn’t also a part of me that’s a bit disappointed that my writing goal wasn’t achieved, I have to say that I’m more satisfied (I’ll stop short of saying proud, though that might not me entirely untrue) in what I attempted and even in what I accomplished even though it didn’t meet the goal. I’m satisfied with having tried, because I know there have been times where I couldn’t or didn’t muster the effort to do even that. A small step forward is better than any measurement of a step backward.
I am learning the art of not being so hard on myself. The art of shaking it off and to just keep going, because there’s nothing I can do about what’s already been done, and if there is, I’ll happen upon it as I move forward, not while I’m looking back. As the Bible says, forgetting what lies behind and pressing toward the high-calling (Philippians 3: 13 -14). I gotta press.
I have no time to be down and out. I have no time to feel sorry for myself. Those things are nothing more than a distraction and a waste of time. Instead, I’m learning to actively shift my mind to looking for the lessons and opportunities for improvement, rather than feeling bad about a loss. Taking that approach, I learned a few things, most notably, there’s a difference between having writing goals and writing plans. I had these big goals without the proper plans. That’s not to say I had no plan, just not the most effective plan. But, you know, it’s trial and error. It’s good that I’m finding this out now so that going forward, I can plan better for it and just continue to build on the knowledge that I gain as I go along.
I don’t know if they still do this but I remember back in the day magazines used to work on issues months in advance. They’d be working on winter issues in the summer, spring issues in the fall and so on. Obviously there’s so much more involved in producing millions of printed copies of magazines to be distributed nationally, not to mention the research and coordinating schedules for interviews and all the stuff that goes into their articles, than the stories that I post here, but still. I feel like I need me some significant lead time for some of the stories that I post. I often don’t figure that out until it’s too late.
Of course some stories I write won’t need a lot of lead time. Some of them I’ll be able to turn out within hours. But there are others that seem to take on a life of their own, that seem to blossom while I’m writing, and sometimes I don’t want to tame them. I don’t even want to attempt to confine them to a smaller space. I want to allow them to spread their wings and be as expansive as they need to be, or even want to be. I have to be mindful of that in the planning stage. And too, the more I write, I think the more I’ll be able to anticipate the instances where a story will take more time, require more research, or just plain be long…so I hope.
A couple of other things that I didn’t plan for were distractions and the unexpected and both happened to me on my December writing journey. I didn’t expect to get a crick in my neck – the worse crick I’ve ever felt in my life. Well, actually, I experienced one in the summer that was worse, but in a day it was over. As soon as I felt that pain, I ate mandarin oranges (Cuties) and slapped a heating pad across it. That knocked it out in no time flat. This time, I did not have Cuties on hand, and didn’t get some until like four days later. By then, that crick had made itself at home in the right side of my neck, and had the nerve (literally) to spread down to my shoulder and the back of my neck. The worse part, it was such a tease. Just when it would let up and I thought it was on its way out, I’d make one false move and it would come back with a vengeance.
It’s funny, because initially it just creeped on in – nothing too strong, just noticeably a bit uncomfortable. As you may recall, in addition to my writing journey, I’m also on a fitness journey and the prevalence of food and merriment during the holidays gets me caught up every single time to the tune of 10 extra pounds once it’s all over. Well this year I was trying to avoid that, especially since I lost 20 pounds a couple months ago. So I told myself I was only going to pig out at certain times during the end of the year, that being the week of Thanksgiving, the week of Christmas, and the week of New Year’s Eve, I believe it was. Other than that, I would stay completely away from sugar, fast food, basically all the bad for you shit. Well, December 12th rolled around, it was the beginning stages of the crick. I was in Sprouts to pick up some healthy food no less. I strolled down one of the bulk aisles to pick up some pumpkin seeds when I came across some gummy bears. They were natural gummy bears the label said. Tropical flavor. Something told me to leave those gummy bears alone, but I couldn’t resist. I’ll just get a few, I thought, and so I did.
Mmmm, when I tell you they were delicious it’s ‘cause they were. There must have been about 10 or 15 of them in my bag, maybe a bit more, and when I was done with them, I wished I’d gotten more. They tasted too good for me to feel any immediate regret. Sure I didn’t stick to my diet, but it felt worth it. Fast forward to the next day and my mom brought orange sherbert home. I’m not even a fan of orange sherbert. I mean I’ll eat it when it’s a part of rainbow sherbert, but orange sherbert alone? No bueno.
But it was just sitting up there in the freezer, beckoning me to give it a try. I did. Why was that the best orange sherbert I’ve ever tasted? I went back for more until it was gone.
Meanwhile, the crick was laying low, but the night of the orange sherbert it came on strong. I didn’t make an immediate connection, and a couple of days later, I had some more sweets. I can’t remember what it was. I think the pain foggy-ed my brain, because what? It was so intense. Not only did it limit my range of motion, it made it hard for me to think, hard for me to sleep. Like I said, even when it felt like it was getting better, one false move and it was game over.
I did a little research and read that when you have an injury, like whatever goes wrong to cause the crick in my neck, inflammation comes to help repair it. It’s supposed to go away soon, but certain things, like sugar, can make it out stay it’s welcome. Figures – here I was thinking I was being slick enjoying some sweets when I knew I shouldn’t have been, yet little did I know I was exacerbating my own pain. That’s a Word for somebody right there. After several nights of pain and discomfort, the next time my Mom came through the door with some sugary treats, I had no problem staying away from that shit. I mean it was like Aretha Franklin said, “Ain’t no way.” Give me some fruit. Give me some vegetables. Give me some fucking green tea.
I said all that to say, that crick in my neck made it very hard for me to write. I tried a couple of times, and you got what you got, but after that I was just like fuck it, this gon have to wait. So the crick in my neck was an unexpected hurdle that I didn’t have an answer for.
That was pretty much the only unexpected thing, but then there was a prevalence of distractions that arose. I was distracted by everything from wanting to watch TV or playing a game on my phone instead of writing to thoughts of doubt roaming my mind, even being distracted by being tired, or simply wanting to do something else or nothing at all. Every time I write, those things are usually there, but this time it just seems like there was more.
So that’s something I need to plan for as well – getting myself in the zone, that writing zone where I can just keep going and the ideas are flowing. I need to figure out how I get to that, what is my formula. Then I need to push myself a little bit more each time so that I can sustain that state of mind for extended periods of time.
In those times when I can’t sustain it, or when it’s not advantageous that I do so, I need to have set tasks to do to divert my attention for the time being. In other words, I guess I need to develop a system, or maybe a routine is a better word for it…maybe it’s both. But I need to train my mind and my body to write, just as an athlete trains their body for sports. Speaking of sport, as I was writing the previous sentence, Whitney Houston’s “Love is a Contact Sport” popped into my head and I began singing the chorus in my mind. You’d probably have to have had the cassette tape to know that song, but anyway.
I need to create structure and then use that structure through discipline and focus. I’m realizing that those are the things that sets the stage for creativity to flow. Those things are the foundation on which creativity is build and sustained. I have to make sure my foundation is solid. So even though I fell short of my goal, these valuable insights are worth the attempt.
And the thing about it is, it’s going to be different for everybody. I was reading this article once, several years ago, that was done on prolific writers and each one had a different morning routine they did before they started writing for the day. They also had different methods of writing. One person wrote for a preset amount of time and then stopped no matter where they were in their story. They would just stop and pick it up again at their next set time. Another person just wrote and ignored any spelling errors or grammar. They just got it all out then edited later. Then yet another person had another method.
And I think the best thing that has come out of this December writing goal practice is that I’m beginning to discover the best method for me. I’m realizing that I don’t have to follow someone else’s method, I can choose one for myself.
I’m reminded of the story of David and Goliath in the Bible when David stepped up to take on Goliath. Everybody else was afraid and David was the only one who had the courage to do it. He was an unlikely contender, but since he was willing King Saul let him. I guess the king figured at that point he didn’t have much to lose. But first, he tried outfitting David in his armor. And I love the fact that at least David did try it on for size to see if maybe it might work. But once he had it on, he knew it wasn’t for him. Instead, he stuck to what he was comfortable with. So I guess sometimes being comfortable isn’t a bad thing. It was by sticking to what he knew would work best for him, given his experience in the field, that he was able to defeat Goliath (I Samuel 17: 38 -40).
While it’s important to seek wise council ultimately you have to know for yourself. You have to know when to take wise council and know when to deviate from that and trust yourself.
One of the things I’m not quite certain how to handle yet is writing while bored. Or writing while sick of my own work. There is a duality to the writing that I’m currently doing. On one hand there is the creative writing I’m doing – writing or editing my book, writing scripts and such. Then on the other hand, I’m writing about the creative writing I’m doing outside of these posts here in these posts…I’m pretty sure I wrote that for a reason, but now I’m not so sure where I was going with that. But anyway, the point I wanted to end up at is this: I went to edit my book after having not touched it for over a year, and I just couldn’t do it. I was so sick of that story – as beautiful and interesting and good as I think it is, I just could not stand to read it again.
I can’t help but wonder why that is. I think part of me is afraid that even after reading it so many times and liking it, that the next time, I won’t think it’s so good anymore. I think it’s an insecurity, especially after being away from it for so long, that it’s not going to be good enough. That it’s not going to satisfy the present me reading it. But I also think there is a part of me that knows that it’s time. It’s been over 20 years. I was around 20 years old when I first started writing that short story, turned book. I’m now 46. It’s time to move on from it. There are other stories to be told. I will never be able to make it perfect so I have to just let it be.
But yeah, I tried to edit it and I couldn’t, so I moved on to something new. I finally got started on the script for the treatment I was telling you about. I moved on from my novella and jumped right into getting that script out of me, and I was amazed at how freely it came. I wrote that treatment in November of 2017, so over eight years ago, and yet when I sat down to write it, it just flowed. Those characters couldn’t wait to be given life.
It’s funny, I don’t even remember how to format a script it’s been so long since I’ve written one. The one script that I have written, I did a lot of research to see how to format it, then I set the Styles thingy in Word so that it automatically does it for me. So when I was writing the script for the treatment, I didn’t even format it properly. I was just letting it flow and said to myself I’ll come back in with the proper formatting later. But yeah, it’s another story I love. I have big ideas for these characters. This script will be a trilogy.
Oh, now I remember why I mentioned the duality of my writing. It’s because even though I didn’t post stories here like I’d hoped I would, that doesn’t mean I haven’t been writing. Though if I’m honest, not as much as I could’ve or should’ve.
Good news is, December’s not over yet. I’ma keep going.
Leave a Reply