If you’ve read a couple of my recent posts, you’ll know that for most of this year I’ve struggled with direction…and if I’m being really, really honest, with getting new words on the page. Edits don’t count. Writing blog posts and articles don’t count. Tooling around tweaking old finished but “not for publication” manuscripts don’t count. None of that counts as new words on the page. I was lost.
I’d recently dropped by my friend’s blog: www.lilamckellan.com
She was having a similar frustrating time with her work. I knew by my horoscope that Mars was retrograde in my sign and that things would be sluggish, both personally and professionally, from March first until this week. I kept telling myself not to fret and just wait it out and read some good literature. This morning I mentally put that drought of words behind me and silently said “bring it on.” Then I flexed my fingers and started typing.
Anyway, this is how I responded to my friend on her post:
I’ve been going through similar frustrations regarding my writing. The pure pleasure of putting words on the page that I had before being published, similar to a child having pleasure in drawing stick figures with crayons, is different than the writing after being published. Now I worry about every word. Something gets lost in the process, and I’m certain it is that freedom to sink into the creativity with innocent passion. I’ve decided to write something just for me, and to have fun and be silly. There is no goal, no plan for this story. It just is. I hope I can reclaim some of the early innocence and just let my hair down and run barefoot through the pages.
If you happen to notice an old lady carrying a fist full of crayons and running barefoot through your neighborhood, give her a smile and cheer of encouragement. I think she’s chasing a cowboy.