Today’s post is gonna be a bit stream-of-consciousness. I hope you’ll come along for the ride.
Sometimes, as a writer, you reach a moment when you go, “This story that I’ve spent three years on? Maybe I don’t want to publish it. Not because it’s bad, but because I can do so much better.” And that realization might feel like a knife in your heart. It might cripple you for a while. And that’s okay.
Sometimes, you need to rest and grieve and read read read so many books. The reading is the fuel for the writing. Never forget that.
Sometimes, then, you have another story in your brain that wants to be written, AND YOU FEEL THAT BUZZ IN YOUR CHEST OF IT SAYING, “WRITE ME,” so you sit down to write, and you start typing, and-
-and it turns out to be horrible. It’s not the story you want to tell. So you say, “Nope to that,” and move on. And next time you get that dinging in your brain of “hey, go write!” you sit down, and you type, and YOU STILL WRITE THE WRONG STORY.
Sometimes, you have to write the wrong story before you can write the right one. Sometimes you have to go through 4 or 5 different “wrong” versions before you finally find the right way into your story. And it’s so discouraging to try and try to write the story that’s looming before you, but it just. keeps. going. the. wrong. way.
But then, when the moons are aligned and the writing gods are kind, you try once more and suddenly, click. You’ve found your way into your story.
Sometimes, being a writer is really, really hard. It’s like walking around in iron boots all day, because why can’t my story just GO THE WAY I WANT IT TO?
But those days aren’t endless. And sometimes, sometimes, writing is the most rewarding thing in the universe. When you find your way into your story, it is the best feeling.
“Sometimes, writing is running downhill, your fingers jerking behind you on the keyboard the way your legs do when they can’t quite keep up with gravity.” -Rainbow Rowell, Fangirl
I am a writer for the days when the words come on their own. When it feels like I am discovering a story instead of creating it. When my fingers fly on the keyboard, trying to keep up with my brain. When I write 1,500 words without breaking a sweat, and feel like a weight just dropped off my shoulders. I write for the feeling of being lost in a world that belongs to me, for the glorious rhythm of letters and words and sentences being punched out by my fingers.
So I’ll push through the rough days, because they give way to the good ones.