I had a realization yesterday as I dug out the manuscript for the book I’ve been working on for the past year.
Recently, I wrote about my fear of writing. Yesterday, I realized it’s maybe not so much the writing it I fear — I love writing, it consumes me. And that’s the problem. That’s what I fear. Being consumed by the writing.
I have always felt consumed by words. As a young girl, whenever my mother tried to talk to me when I was reading, my response was seldom gracious or kind. It was more along the lines of ‘leave me alone. Can’t you see I’m reading?” (honest. I didn’t know better. I was a teen!)
At school, I’d often spend my recesses walking around the schoolyard reading Ayn Rand’s, The Fountainhead, or Dostoevsky’s, War and Peace. And yes, the contradictions were lost on me at the time!
In my 20s, I started writing my first novel. It was about a 20 something married woman who gets hi-jacked to the cosmos to meet the man of her dreams only to discover, he wasn’t her husband. What to do? What to do?
In the final throes of my marriage, I thought I might be able to save it by writing romance into it. I decided to tackle writing a Harlequin Romance. To finish it, I sent my daughters over to Vancouver Island to their both sets of grandparents for 3 weeks while I house sat a friend’s home at Jericho Beach in Vancouver. I didn’t tell anyone I was in the city. Barely even saw my sister. I was so consumed with finishing that novel I didn’t want to be interrupted.
For three weeks I lived and breathed those characters and their stories. I was in heaven.
Coming up for air I discovered there really wasn’t much of my marriage to save, but I did have a completed manuscript.
And then I did what I’ve often done with completed things. I let it go. It wasn’t easy. Particularly the marriage part… Though I did send the manuscript off to one publisher who liked it and asked for some revisions.
I never did the revisions.
When my daughters were younger they always knew that any time I was sitting at my computer, fingertips flying across the keyboard was not a good time to disturb ‘momma bear’. She might be growly.
And I could be. Growly. Very very growly when interrupted.
And that’s what I’ve discovered. It’s not the writing it. It’s the being consumed by it.
Which begs the question… so what? Why are you letting fear dictate your actions Louise?
Hmmm…. good question. I do not want to be driven by fear. I want to be drawn by courage to do the things I love.
And I love writing. and I love the stories of the people I’ve met on the ‘other side’ of the street. Those incredibly complex, heart-driven, sensitive souls to whom life has given lessons that transcend the commonplace into that space where miracles happen — everyday.
See, one of the things I really felt working at a shelter is that it truly was a miracle that everyday, a thousand people woke up and took another step. They had lives most of us can’t imagine. Experienced things most of us could not endure. And yet, there they were, every morning, getting up and walking on.
It was, and is, a testament to the power of the human spirit and our collective will to live, to ascend hardship and pain and suffering, to cling to this fragile thread of humanity that holds us with a strength greater than even that of gravity’s capacity to keep us standing up.
As I write I realize — this has been my ennui. This has been the fissure of unease that has been quietly seeping through my being present to the wonder and joy of life. I am not writing the stories that move me. I am not sharing the awe and wonder I found working at a homeless shelter.
When I know better, I do better.
I have been the master of my own discord. I have been the keeper of my joy.
Yesterday, my eldest daughter called me and said, “Get over yourself mom. Your stories are amazing. People need to hear them. Stop stalling.”
I thank her. Because in her words I am reminded — To inspire my daughters to live their lives on the outside of their comfort zones, I need to be living mine fearlessly, passionately in Love on the other side of playing it safe.
Time to unleash myself. Time to set myself free. Time to let go and shine.
Namaste.
Dare Boldly 
Elgie,
Getting off the treadmill of ‘how we work our routine’ so we can actually do that writing, that story telling … not so easy, but something we can do. You can do! ..
So, do already!
Mark
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Aye Aye Sir! 🙂
(notice, I even capitalized the Sir!)
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Having seen a number of those stories, I’m going to echo Mark.
Let us be your motivators and coaches.
Here’s a quote to get you started:
“Be not daunted, nor terrified, nor awed by the radiance of your own true nature. Recognize it. From the midst of that radiance reverberating like a thousand thunders will come the sound of your own real self.” ~ Tibetan text
And here’s another to keep you going:
“Courage always starts out by feeling like fear. Fear is an invitation for us to respond with belief in ourselves. . . .” ~ John Paul Thornton, author, “Art and Courage”
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Love the quotes Maureen — thank you — and now, you’ve also added a book to my summer reading list! Art and Courage.
And yes — please be my motivator and coach — I so appreciate your voice calling me to write.
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Go for it! It’s very hard to let your babies fly into the world- literally and figuratively. As writers we need tough backbones! (ha ha , as parents, even tougher!) Good luck!
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haha — so true Lisa — that ole’ backbone needs a bit in spinedyupidenessing up! 🙂
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There you go. You’ve hit the truth. Now that you’ve shared it, and committed to going forward, you will find a reserve of courage. I echo your daughter. People need to hear your stories.
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Thank you Susan — sometimes, it takes our children to show us the light! and voices like yours to help me see its truth.
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Ooh, feeling eerie. I’ve had the thought more than once that “writer’s block” for me has less to do with being blocked and more to do with fear of the way writing consumes me when I let it take over. Not sure why I’m afraid of that as on the rare occasions when I let it happen life feels more right than ever… But I haven’t really acknowledged it enough to work through it. Having you “say it out loud” is going to leave me thinking deeply. Thanks.
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There is such power when we ‘fess up’ and say it out loud — and hearing your voice added to mine, helps me see the truth even more clearly. Thanks Leigh!
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I find it interesting that you have written both fiction and non-fiction. This is unusual.
Which do you prefer?
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I actually prefer non-fiction Elizabeth, but that may also be because in recent years I’ve not written a great deal of fiction. I loved how characters took on a life of their own, becoming so real when I was immersed in the fiction-writing process. I loved how they could surprise me with the things they revealed and did!
And in non-fiction, I love the lessons learned in real events. I find there is such wonder and awe in every day occurrences that there is little need for fiction! 🙂 while I’m a romantic, I’m a realist and I like working with what is and writing about it.
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Maybe that is what it is with me too (I rarely read fiction) because the truth is far better (or worse) than anything anyone could ever make up.
Also, I think that I am continually striving and learning and non-fiction feeds that drive in me.
Thanks for your comment.
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The belief is “Only passions, great passions, can elevate the soul to great things” – seems to me you’ve found something you’re passionate about – so that begs the question, what are you waiting for?
Stop trying to control the uncontrollable and give yourself over to what makes your heart sing
Waiting for the results xxx
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