I’ve been a little busy lately with Thanksgiving, birthdays, Christmas shopping (thank God for the internet), and the upcoming trip. As a result, I haven’t been doing a lot of actual work on my book. I thought about it a lot; I’m always thinking about it. I have random notes scribbled in ten different notebooks so I won’t forget brilliant ideas that pop in my head. Too bad I can’t remember where I put the notes.
Long story short, I haven’t been writing. And like anything you keep putting off (like cleaning, homework, exercise, picking up dog poo in the backyard), I’ve started dreading it a little bit. I have so much work to do before the New York trip, it’s daunting. I know I needed to work on it; the longer I wait the more stressed and rushed I’ll be.
But now that the Thanksgiving turkey is decimated, birthdays celebrated, shopping almost done, and nothing left to do for the trip but edit my book and pack at the last minute, I was forced to sit down at the computer and work yesterday. Just me and the edits. All day. Nothing else to distract me.
Guess what? I loved it. I missed the creative outlet; letting my mind twirl around words and images. It felt right. All the dread, the procrastination was for naught. I had a great day editing and can’t wait to finish my blog so I can get back at it. The best part of my epiphany? For the first time I really felt like a writer. Like I belonged at the keyboard. Like I could really do this. Maybe I’m even good at it.
I realize there is a very good chance I’ll go to my conference in New York and be told by editors my ideas are cliché, my writing flat, and my characters unrealistic. And I think I’m OK with that. Even though I have a lot of work to do, and I know I’ll never stop learning how to improve, worsmithy is where I belong. So what if this book isn’t it. I have ten other book ideas to try, and some might even be good.
I recall several years ago discussing how I’m not a creative person. I can’t remember who I spoke with, or why we were even discussing it. I explained how I preferred reading other people’s stories, but I’m not clever enough to invent my own. Now I can’t stop inventing my own. I may not be good at it, but I love it. My favorite part about reading is the adventure; the thrill of going somewhere new. And now I hope to create that thrill for you.
So, dear reader, my lesson this week is finding what you love and do it. It’s an oldie but a goodie; and oddly enough a major theme in my book. Huh, funny how that worked out.
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