Writing is Hard

So um...hi. 

I haven't been around for a while, have I? Mental blocks are weird. I love blogging, and it's the easiest form of writing for me to do, because it's basically just me sitting down with an invisible group of friends and having a chat. The problem comes when maybe we don't get a chance to sit down together for a while, and I start to build it up in my mind...well the next time we get a chance to, I'm going to have to have something really important and special to say, or else people will think "That's it? That's it after all this time apart?" This means the crappy thing is, I have all sorts of little thoughts that probably would have been good blog posts, but I don't post them because I think "well no, I have to wait until I can have SoMeThInG ePiC to write about." 

This is not something epic. But I'm tired of being away. And quite frankly I'm tired of my sad post about Cinder passing away being the first thing I see every time I pop over to my blog. So let's change that. 

What have you been up to since last we spoke? I can tell you that Tom and I have been grieving and readjusting to being a one-cat household. We weren't sure if Ella would struggle with having her brother gone or not. Somewhat surprisingly, the answer has been "not." She absolutely adores being an only cat, and she has really expanded her personality (sometimes in ways I wish she would scale back on, ha.) 

Summer, of course, brings all sorts of other distractions and responsibilities and social obligations separate from writing. I'm an avid gardener, so my free time in part went to that pursuit. I've also had a few medical struggles this summer that I've been contending with as well. 

But!!! The last few months, I've been spending a good deal of time on creative writing. Mostly for my Patreon...I send out an exclusive short story every month (one wound up being published in Fairy Tale Magazine) to everyone at $10+ tiers, and I just started a feature called Friday Fables, where every Friday at around 5:00 p.m. E.S.T., I share a little micro or flash fiction story to all patrons at all support levels. I also wrote a short story currently out on submission about a curious experience an old witch has when she tries to perform her classic "crossroads trope" from fairy tales and it doesn't go as expected. Finally, I have another short story in outline form that I'm about to start (about a white hare-faerie woman.) 

Art by Brian Froud

I don't really do self-portraits in the woods as often as I used to, and clearly (gestures vaguely around) I haven't been blogging either. I have been somewhat good about putting out newsletter updates, so feel free to sign up for those. But mostly, in my creative free time, I've been either gardening or writing stories. 

And let me tell you, more frequent creative writing has been an adjustment, in good and bad ways. On the good side, hey...who would have thought: the people out there who say that working on a skill is like exercising a muscle, and you get stronger the more you work out? They were right. I am great at concepts, not so great at finished plots. I'm still not the best at finished plots, but I'm getting better at creating a rounded and satisfactory story. I still prefer to write stories with more description and mood-setting than conflict. But maybe that's just how I am? Also in the positive category, ideas for stories come a lot faster and easier to me than they did before. 

Now to talk about what has been a difficult adjustment. It was so very very hard to come to the decision to focus more on my creative writing and allow other pursuits to fall to the side for now. First, it's just not what comes the most naturally for me. I have always truly loved writing, but in college I wrote papers for my classes that I was very proud of and got great feedback about. Then I started blogging, and people seemed to enjoy that. Then I got a job at a magazine, and wrote many many articles over a period of seven years. I just didn’t have, or take, many opportunities to write creative fiction. That whole time, although I told myself my dream was to be a published fiction author, the vast vast majority of what I wrote was expository essays. That was the muscle I was encouraged to exercise in school. That was the muscle I exercised in my blogs and my articles. So really, I was going to the gym and had one semi-buff arm, and another that I was allowing to atrophy. 

Secondly, (as I mentioned) one of my biggest dreams in life is to have my creative writing published, with the end goal being to have written at least one published novel. And it is a basic human condition to prefer the hypothetical dream to the terrifying reality of actually trying to work toward making it come true. But the fact of the matter is…if you delay rolling up your sleeves and doing the work toward a dream, you know what happens? You get older. Time goes by. And next thing you know you’re 44 and realizing…I still have time, but boy did I let a lot of it slip through my fingers without doing anything toward what I want to do.

But guysssss…it’s so much easier and safer to say “someday.” There’s so much less risk of working hard toward something and possibly failing if you just keep things at a dream. Right? But regrets can only pile up so high before you just…feel like you have no choice but to at least stick a toe in the water. My toes are now in the water. In fact, I think I can even say I’m standing in the water ankle high, preparing to take the plunge.

Dartmoor, Pigwiggen Wood

The final reason why this has been a challenging adjustment is a bit embarrassing to admit. See, none of us want to think that we are susceptible to the social media hamster wheel, but it is viciously subtle and subliminal. And the more we gorge ourselves on the instant gratification of social media sharing as both consumers and producers, the more we rely on it. Basically what I’m saying is…I really love getting likes. I really love posting something pretty and getting responses and reactions. And if I create an artwork, I can post it and get immediate affirmation of the legitimacy and quality of what I’ve created. If I get dressed up and do my hair and makeup and take a narrative storytelling image in the woods and then post it…the same thing happens. And both of them can be done/created relatively quickly compared to the length of time it takes to write a story. (Artists, I know detailed artworks can take ages, I’m just talking about the kind of art I make.)

Books I received for my birthday

Add to this the fact that I might write a story and then want to send it out for possible publication, and that’s a large volume of time for a very small or zero amount of affirmation or ego stroking / self-loathing rebalancing compliments. It’s hard to actually believe I’m a tolerably okay writer when I am creating with an audience of one (or just a few sweet and dear friends who have a bias to say what I’m writing isn’t crapola.)

Add to this the additional factor that when a writer then has a chance to share their work online (“Hey I have a story in X publication and here’s a link”), our current oversaturated society might mean that most friends genuinely intend to read that story…really truly…but it ends up being forgotten, or the amount of time it takes to read a full story just doesn’t seem like a good time investment. For a writer…and especially for a beginning writer with no established audience or reputation…it can really feel like pouring your heart into an echo chamber.

(Now, having said this, I found myself amusedly looking at how long this very blog post is getting. Sorry about that.) 

The mind gremlins quickly grab this lack of reaction, lack of feedback, lack of affirmation that you really are contributing something that isn’t a waste of time, and spin it into more doubt and self-loathing. I guess basically what I’m saying is…writing creative fiction isn’t for the weak of heart. Someone recently just told me about a quote that says it even better. “To be a writer, you need a thin skin. But to be an author, you need a thick one.” It’s a delicate balancing act.

The same author friend went on to say “someone close to me asked recently if I ever asked myself if it was worth it. My reply was that sometimes I do, but it seems like whenever I ask that, I’ll get a lovely message from someone I’ve never met, telling me my book really struck a chord with them and they wanted to let me know. And I think yes, it’s absolutely worth it. So if you’re on the fence about whether to contact an author to let them know their book [or story! My addition!] moved you, it’s going to make their day.”

Mostly though, I’m going to keep writing because I feel like I have to. I need to keep writing, not just the conversational expository stuff, but I need to keep storytelling. Story, wonder, and magic are what keep me going in this world, and I suspect they’re what will save us.

Just please, check on your writers sometimes?