So, I did fail NaNoWriMo, but that failure has been a great learning experience. Shortly after starting, I met a published author who offered their advice. The advice they imparted was: “Don’t write unless you have to.”
When she told me that I nodded, thanked her for taking the time to chat with me, and walked away feeling embarrassed and foolish for stumbling over my words while speaking with her. I found that during our conversation I lost touch with what was being said and instead focused on “Wow, she’s famous and makes enough money to write full-time and is doing exactly what I want to be doing.” I removed myself from the experience and lost myself to envy and desire. It wasn’t until later that night that I began mulling her advice over and seeing if it fit into my writing life. In the true nature of advice, it never seems profound on the surface. It takes time to digest properly. For me it came at an (in)opportune time: mere days after beginning a challenge to write a book in a month. But it made enough sense to me to stop me dead in my tracks. I coupled her advice with things I’ve been thinking and feeling for a long time and made the decision to stop writing. Not forever, of course, just long enough to feel what it is to not write. Instead of forcing myself to write, not accomplishing anything, berating myself for not accomplishing anything, feeling shameful and sad for failing, etc., I decided to stop perpetuating the cycle and began to examine my thoughts and feelings in a related context. I’ve always wanted to write, but have I ever felt that I needed to?
The answer, I’ve discovered, is yes. I absolutely need to write. Making meaning for me is the only will to meaning. The act and process of creation is indecipherable from my sense of self.
Hitting pause for the last month has been difficult, but as with every difficulty it’s brought a lot to light. I’ve discovered how I feel when I don’t create, and that feeling is something I don’t want to spend the rest of my life feeling. It’s a coldness, maybe a numbness. Either way, I’ve never felt more disconnected from myself than during the last few weeks. But the balm is that I consciously chose to do something and my experience was directly influenced by my actions. I put my metaphorical hand on a metaphorical hot stove and was metaphorically burnt. I smile when I think about this, realizing that I have some type of control over things. Those things are all internal, but perhaps that is enough. I prefer not having control over external things, they have their own chaos to worry about, as do I.
So I’ve taken this time to read more. I’ve finished two books this month, both of which were YA fiction, and I’m halfway through a Non-Fiction title. It has helped to let go of the imagined need to write and allow it to emerge naturally, taking its rightful place without me forcing it to be something it isn’t. The passion is there, the attention and motivation are next on the list.
The title of this post came from a dream I had earlier in the month. I’ve pondered it, letting it make sense on its own, not forcing it to become significant if it isn’t.
What I’ve come up with is:
Catch Yourself
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“In order to be a writer you have to believe a lot of things that are definitely not true, including, obviously, that you’re going to be able to make a living writing, and you have to believe them with your whole heart, and you have to believe them more than reality. And one day, if you believe them hard enough, and make up stories that people like and write them down, then they may become true.”
- Neil Gaiman
