Walking the dogs this morning, my brain kept cycling obsessively around the question of whether I should sell the house. I’ve answered the question for myself so many times — not now, not yet. But apparently I haven’t convinced myself of the rightness of this answer because the debate keeps coming back. Finally, I forced myself away from the house question and started thinking about A Gift of Grace.
I have been so, so, so stuck for so long. I know that’s part of the reason for the endless house ruminations. Writing can’t just be an endurance contest for me. If it’s not fun, then I should be doing something that is. Life is too short to not spend as much of it as possible in flow states, but I haven’t had a writing flow state in… well, it feels like forever, but obviously, it’s not. At the very least, 2014 held an intense and lovely two months of flow while A Lonely Magic poured out of me. But I’m not there now.
And then, while forcing myself to think about Grace and Noah, I had a moment — a brief, fleeting, glimmering moment — where the pieces started to line up. This thing, followed by this thing, and then this angle to introduce this moment… It was so exciting. I tugged on the dog’s leash to hurry her along. I knew I had to get home and grab the words while they were tickling me.
But by the time we got home, and I fed the dogs and myself, the words had faded away. The tickle was gone. By the time I sat down to the computer — after washing the dishes and doing a little vacuuming, I had that feeling in the pit of my stomach that I’ve been getting about writing lately. I think that feeling is dread.
But how can I dread writing? Why would I dread writing? I dread going to the dentist. It’s going to hurt. Writing, though — it’s not supposed to hurt. I’m trying to convince myself right now that the dread is worse than the reality — nothing to fear except fear itself, right? — but apparently the best I can do for the moment is to write a blog post. At least it’s words.
Talking B to the vet, then going to yoga. I’m going to spend my time at yoga filling myself up with as many “I” power statements as I can to see if I can meditate myself into loving writing again.
Judy, Judy, Judy said:
It can happen to anyone. Think of Jenny Crusie after 20+ successful books.
sarahwynde said:
Oh, so true! Every time I read one of her writing blog posts, I think two things: 1) I don’t want to write like that, it seems brutal and 2) I bet her readers aren’t nearly as hard on her as she is. Hmm, but that does make me wonder about my own thought process — I suspect I’m being way too analytical. I wonder how much that is because of criticism of A Lonely Magic? That might be a lot of it. huh… must think more about this! Thanks for the insight!
Peggy Parton said:
I “LOVED” A Lonely Magic!!! I’m having a hard time waiting for the next book! Please say there will be a next book!!!
This is my opinion but, anyone who criticized ” A Lonely Magic”, obviously hasn’t read the whole book! Once I started reading, I didn’t stop till the last page!
Please don’t be so hard on yourself, you are an awesome and talented writer!
~~ Peggy Parton
sarahwynde said:
Thank you so much! I’m not sure why it took me five days to see your message, but I’m glad it did because this was some lovely Monday morning encouragement for me as I stare at the open file. And yes, I loved writing A Lonely Magic and I definitely intend to write its sequel!
Peggy Parton said:
Yea!!! I can’t wait for the sequel! Please keep us updated on it! And your other books as well!