Rocking the neurotic writing world with Alex Cavanaugh and the Insecure Writing Support Group (you can check out the group and participants here) . First Wednesday of every month.
You know? I like puzzles. I do.
I like finding the pieces and
fitting them in and making a picture. It’s fun. I feel the same about creating
a necklace out of a pile of multicolored beads and bits of metal pieces. It’s
fun to create a pretty or even a funky design. I do the same with earrings.
Bits and pieces can be fun to put into a whole and make it something else,
something lovely.
Bits and pieces aren’t so much fun in editing. It’s the same
premise. You have various
pieces and it should be a matter of combining them
into a whole picture. Adding bits of this and that to get a harmonious whole.
Something with impact. A piece of work to take pride in.
 |
| Victorian necklace and bracelet |
Except…it doesn’t always work out that way. Sometimes the
pieces develop teeth and attack you.
I wrote a trilogy back a few years ago. This was a story
that stretched me. It was fun to let her rip and go for it. I challenged my
writing chops for sure. Still, I was okay with it all. I knew it had good bones
just as I knew it had a lot of stuff that wasn’t needed.
When I went to edit it, after the critiques, I had a path
but I was new to this type of editing. It was a bit daunting but I knew I could
do it and that it would be better for the hard work. There were parts of it
that actually needed rewriting and that would mean changing chunks of the other
two stories as well. So I took it apart. The chapters have been unstrung from
the whole and even some of the chapters are in unstrung sections. It’s all in
it’s own file. It has research files to compliment the design and some sparkly
pieces to add impact.
So why is it still in pieces? Good question.
Cutting the extraneous wasn’t that hard. Trying to re-thread
those chapters was overwhelming. I couldn’t understand why I was having such
problems with clear thinking. I knew what I needed to do and it wasn’t
like I was new to editing. But for some reason this project steamrolled me.
Pancake flat. I had not a clue how to change that. The harder I tried the worse
it became. I couldn’t understand why. It was seriously affecting my confidence
and taking away the joy I’ve always felt creating and writing. Of course part
of it was I was getting sick and I didn’t realize it. I was losing clarity of
thought but didn’t know it at the time. I struggled on and made a mess of it. I
looked at all the pieces of what had once been whole and cried over the
devastating mess I had left. All those bits and pieces mocking me.
I put it away for a bit and wrote other things some good and
some not. I was trying, and perhaps too hard, to recapture that flow and joy of
writing. Concentration was becoming harder and my attention span shorter and
there were days I swore gnats had a longer attention span. You know the
thoughts that go through your mind at times like that. You’re a what? A
writer? Queue maniacal derisive laughter. And no one does mocking
quite as well as our inner critic.
That was a bit over two years ago. The past few months my
creative mind has been sneaky and reworking things in that series again. I’ve
even dreamed about it. It’s itching to tackle it. But, I still haven’t opened
that file.
Fear? Sure. A lot of not so great things happened during the initial
editing phase of that series and are all tied into that file.
I’m smart enough to know you have to face your fears and
that usually those fears are much bigger in our minds than in reality. I’ve
fallen off horses, broken bones, and faced stupid and humiliation. There is a
certain repulsion in facing that horse and all the possibilities of a repeat
performance. But I also knew if I didn’t get back into the saddle I wouldn’t
ride again. I can’t live that way. I’m not one to let fear of what if or
possibility of pain hold me back. I’m not reckless but it’s a challenge I have
to face and conquer even if I’m shaking in my boots. Always been that way.
Well, I’m again shaking in my boots but I know me. I know
how my creative mind works. I know it’s giving me warning that resistance is
futile because we will be opening that file.
Conquer or be conquered.
I know which role I prefer.
