Writing is such an art. Stringing together the words that can convey an emotion, bring to mind a visual image, allow the reader to feel what is being said–these elements, and more, can bring a mere words on a page to life.
My last motivational thought was posted in October, 2007. I am still struggling with the writing process. My creativity has been galvanized somewhat with the completion of my Italian vacation travelogue. However, true writing (that borne from my imagination, and not the recounting of an adventure) has eluded me thus far. I’m attempting to get that spirit back. It is a process.
Of course, I still think of my mother often. I try so hard to write because I think it is what she would want me to do. So I begin to write. And then I begin to think of her. It halts my writing. This isn’t altogether bad; I cherish the memories of my mother. But my emotions are still too tied up in grief to try and write through that. One of these days, it will get better for me. I don’t know when that will be. I’m trying to move forward. I’m thinking again of writing short stories for the plethora of writing competitions out there. Even as I have this thought, I feel the stirrings of creativity.
Sad to say, I have all but abandoned the writing group that I joined last fall. But this was done for so many reason—many of which revolved around my lack of attention and desire to write. And at that time, being surrounded by people prodding me to write would have done more to anger me than drive me forward. Maybe a group setting is not what is needed for me at this time. But that’s okay. Encouragement is fine; but in time, the right kind of encouragement will do for me what no group of people can ever do.
I look forward to the day when my fingers will once again fly across my keyboard with reckless abandon as the bits and pieces of creativity flow from my head. This motivational thought is a start. I believe I will be okay. But wish me luck just in case.
Until then, continue to write.
It has been quite a while since I posted a motivational thought. Sometimes life just gets in the way. As much as I may chant my mantra “A Writer Writes . . . Always!” there comes a time when everyone stumbles, falls, and doesn’t have the energy to get back up.
I fell down, and I’m still not sure when I can fully stand.
A large part of my motivation for writing stems from the confidence and belief that those close to me have in my abilities. Whenever I scored a first place prize in a writing competition, my mom would be the first person I would call to share the news. Whenever my excitement grew about a new story I was working on, or a major turn in my novel, I would bend my mom’s ear. Hell, if I stubbed my toe on the edge of my bed in the middle of the night, you can bet I would tell my mom about it.
In July of this year, just three days after my birthday, my mom passed away unexpectedly. With her loss went so many reasons for me to get out of bed and even contemplate writing. Different people deal with grief in many different ways. Losing a loved one has, for me, sucked so much energy from me—physically and emotionally.
There are many books on the market about writing through the pain, allowing the words to be cathartic, etc. However, for the first time in my life, I am allowing my emotions to keep me from writing. And I believe I have every right. I am not wallowing in depression; I am merely grieving for the woman who gave life to me. Day in and day out, I can tell others to “keep writing,” “don’t stop,” and “never let anything stop you from writing if it’s really what you want to do.” However, today I can’t take my own advice.
It will take time for my creative juices to flow the way they did a year ago. In the meantime, I will take it one day at a time. Today I can write a sentence. Tomorrow it may be a paragraph. Next week perhaps it will be an entire short story. And so on and so on. But I did take a very positive step in regaining my writer’s stride: I joined a small but dedicated group of writers who are serious about their craft; more specifically, the art of novel writing. Perhaps this group will be the catalyst for my creativity.
Baby steps. I’ll get there.
Stay strong, and continue to write.
Do you sometimes feel like you’re the only one singing your praises as a writer? You know you’ve got skills. So why doesn’t everyone else see it? What in the world is wrong with each and every publisher, editor, agent or contest judging panel that you’ve contacted? Don’t they know talent when they read it?!? I too have felt this way before. There have been seasons in my life where it seemed that no one else could appreciate what I thought were some of the best words strung together in a sentence since the beginning of mankind. Of course I exaggerate, but I believe you may have an idea of the point that I’m trying to make. And in case it has escaped you, it is merely this: I think I’m all that, and then some!
Of course it is okay to have a healthy respect for ones’ own works. And it is even okay to entertain the idea that you’re the best writer that you know. But where does the line of pipe dream and reality become so blurred that you can’t differentiate between the two?
I recently had a stimulating conversation with my newly acquired boyfriend (as if I went to Wal-Mart and plucked him off the shelf marked “Relationship Material” . . .). After hearing about my dreams of being a full-fledged paid writer, and reading some of my works (and yes, he sings my praises as a writer), he stated in a matter-of-fact manner “You should do something with this; you should get this published.” It was a simple statement, but I knew what it meant. And without meaning to, he assumed what so many others have done: If you’re so good, why aren’t you published?
Easier said than done. But don’t think I haven’t tried.
I carefully explained to him that not being published does not not make me a writer, nor does it mean that I’m not trying. And for all the perseverance and talent in the world that I may be so bold as to think I have, I can’t force a contest judge, publisher, editor or agent to think any more of me as a writer than what my writing represents. Writing is so very subjective. I’ve received a few rejection letters . . . okay, more than a few—enough to wallpaper my entire freakin’ basement! But does that mean that I stop trying? No. It means I move on. And just because progress isn’t being made in the forefront doesn’t mean there isn’t movement in the background.
So to all of my fellow wordsmiths and likeminded lovers of the written word I say this: Believe in yourself and keep it real. You can move slow, and those movements can sometimes be unsure; but whatever you do, just keep on moving. After all . . . no matter what they think, you're still a writer.
