I can feel it in my bones

Have you read the Ira Glass quote about writing…


That!  I got kicked in the ass this past November, by that.  Here I was with this idea that I thought was amazing, and I just couldn’t make it work.  There was this complete disconnect between what I wanted it to be, and what was coming out on paper.

Writing had become hard.

When I first started off writing I thought I knew this, but it was in a way where someone has told this who has traveled that path, but you aren’t at that marker in the road yet, so you know it’s coming, but until you get there it’s just not really a truth yet.  And somewhere along the journey you are like, is this it, maybe this is the marker they where talking about, but then later when you get to that marker, your like, what was I thinking before, this is clearly it.

This past November I learnt about ass in chair and fingers on keyboard.  I thought I knew this one too, but I didn’t. Not truly.  I learnt that even on bad days I could make myself write and get words down, and put off every other distraction and make writing a priority.

See, I had used writing as a reward.  A thing to dangle in front of me that I earned after everything else was perfect, and if everything wasn’t perfect then no reward land for me.  Or if everything was perfect but I had spent all of my energy points already in the day on making everything else perfect, and there where no more energy points left for writing, well then clearly I had also not earned it, and couldn’t do it.

But November is make writing come first month.  November is NaNoWriMo.  And that is permission for everything not to be perfect and to make writing come first.  For it to be the number one thing on that crazy to do list. For me to spend energy points on that first, and whatever was left after that got put into make everything else perfect folder.

I have learnt that I could probably live in a less perfect space and get more writing done.

So this year, what I want to do is less perfect space, and more writing.  I have learnt I can put my ass in a chair and make myself write.  And I need to do that to myself more often.  And somewhere in there magic will  happen.

In fact I have this crazy little something I started this past November, not what I had intended on writing at all, but something that is worth finishing.  Something that is crazy and brilliant and beautiful and odd.  Something that is worth putting my ass in that chair for.  I may scrap the rest of the writing from this past November, but this I know is a keeper.  I can feel it in my bones.


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