Beginning, Again

I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was a kid. Back then there were effusive journals and terrible poems and other miscellaneous surges of inspiration. And now in my 40’s I still want to be a writer when I grow up. 

In the past few days, I’ve written two blogs and started a few others. I’m getting more comfortable with this “Shitty First Draft” idea (if you aren’t familiar, it’s Anne Lamott’s acknowledgment of that messy version everyone must suffer through en route to a good piece of writing. Also, please please please read her book Bird by Bird. It’s on my Top Three Books Of All Times list and truly is not just an instructional for writing but for life).

I’m also just now starting to write for me- no one else. Though lets be clear, I’m quite thrilled you’re reading this, and I’m also nervous you won’t like it. But I’m more pleased with myself for taking a step towards my goals than I am anxious about your reaction. Yay, personal growth! One point for me.

It’s funny how— for years— I’ve had two hours each week set aside for writing. I’ve pictured sitting at a cute coffee shop (I can hear my husband now— “well, as long as it’s cute!”) with a nice almond milk latte, warm and comfortable clothes, my laptop, and the inspiration of community around me. Or in my living room; fireplace warm, a candle lit, glass of wine in hand, solitude.

In reality: I’ve used this designated “writing time” twice. In 2.5 years. Just to be clear that’s 2 out of approximately 130 Sundays. That’s right, I’m an overachiever.

Turns out not much was right about that mental picture of my writing space. What I really needed was a sterile hospital waiting room with terrible Wi-Fi and stiff blankets and mediocre coffee. And perhaps my sisters or family near me, reading— or perhaps no one around at all.

My personal learnings from this week are not complicated but they feel profound:

  1. Stop overthinking it. Just write. For yourself. Tell your story. From where you are now.
  2. Remove all comforts; it’s the discomfort that helps. Remove all preconceptions; it’s the conception that helps.

And so i’m beginning. Again.