Different

Everything could be done differently. In fact, everything is done differently; that’s the (beauty of the) subjective human experience. But, that’s me ignoring the question. What could I do differently? A lot of things, certainly, but many things are probably so ingrained and unconscious that they’d be extraordinarily difficult for me to do differently. Anyway, that’s me still consciously failing to address the question for indulgent reasons – thank you for bearing with me.

Let’s be specific. Here’s one thing I definitely could and want to be doing differently: writing.

My writing process – the point of it all – has been on my mind more and more recently. Sure, these prompts are great and all, especially for developing the fundamentally-necessary habit of writing, but they’re doing little else to get me toward my goal of writing a novel. Of the 40 posts on this little blog of mine, I believe only one is a continuation of another; all else are independent islands floating in a sea of so what? So, I know what I could be doing differently: actually writing a complete, flushed out story, start to finish. Why don’t I? It scares me, to be sure. But, I also don’t know how (or I’m scared because I don’t know how). That right there is important. As I’ve said elsewhere, I realize that the only path forward, is, well, forward. To make any progress at all, I must make mistakes, I must learn, I must adapt.

One thing I’m consciously aware of that has been a hurdle is pantsing versus plotting (that is, developing the storyline as one goes versus predetermining the plot). I’ve tried both and have hit walls with both. I’m scared to again hit a wall I can’t hurdle. Giving up on the story and characters I’ve invested time in hurts emotionally as well as being a blow to one’s confidence. But, I suppose the more my view of writing matures, the more I realize what matters is writing the damn thing in the first place. It’s okay if it sucks. It even probably should suck. An ugly, completed thing is better than a beautiful, abandoned thing.

What’s frustrating is that I know all this yet I still sit here writing this drivel instead of what I want to be writing. Sure, just do it: forgive me if I appeal to the inherent irrationality of the human brain. Perhaps this is me maturing and getting closer to just doing it, and maybe there’s some comfort in that.