Getting Back In the Swing of Things
Writing is all fun and games until I actually have to, you know, write
I love this photo. It’s so dramatic.
As with everything in life, writing has its phases. Brainstorming, plotting (which I maintain are two separate things), writing, revising (repeat as necessary), editing, writing and revising again, proofreading—and it all coalesces into that magical thing called publication.
I just left the editing phase, and after a week of patting myself on the back, I figure it’s about time I get back to work.
Authors are always working on some project or another. My novel is currently being reviewed by my agent, but I know better than to think that means I get a vacation.
In reality, it’s important to keep working on projects. Even after just a week of patting myself on the back, I feel reluctant, maybe even hesitant, to start writing again. But what is it about my 7-day hiatis that has me struggling to do what I love? I’m a writer—why can’t I write?
As I’ve forced myself to reread old work so I can build on those projects again, I think I’ve boiled down my hesitance to two mental blocks that are taking “procrastination” to new levels:
1. Self-Doubt
It’s the age-old roadblock, but after months of unprecedented confidence in my manuscript and abilities, why is it rearing its ugly head now?
Just weeks ago, I mentioned how proud I am of what I’ve written. After hammering out some begrudging flaws and misdirections, I proclaimed how happy I was with the story I’ve written. That’s not to say it doesn’t have its imperfections, but so many of the tricky spots that frustrated me have finally been resolved.
To not wax poetic—plot points flowed smoothly, characters felt more real (and likeable), and I genuinely felt my manuscript had the potential to connect with its audience.
And I think part of that excitement, pride, and peace-of-mind subconsciously raised my expectations of myself.
In other words, what if my other ideas just aren’t as good?
I’m a harsh self-critic, I’ve always known that, and it’s taken a lot of effort to reign myself in. After all, you can’t know if something works until its completed, and I have nothing currently that’s close to that. But my over-analyzing nature is threatening to put me in fight or flight mode (I lean towards freeze, by the way).
Reminding myself that an outline and a handful of chapters isn’t an entire novel has helped me open up my laptop again, but it isn’t enough. My writer’s block is more than just a fear of not meeting my own expectations.
2. An Evolving Story
I’m a plotter. I like to have every minor detail written in stone before I even think about grabbing my laptop. But the problem with this mindset, as helpful as it is for me, is that stories change as they are written. They might even change because they are written.
Take, for example, my work-in-progress, the one currently in my agent’s hands. One memorable side character is Molly Ingram. She’s the no-nonsense cousin of our protagonist, Ada, and I loved every second of writing her brutal honesty and emotional intelligence.
But Molly Ingram didn’t always exist. She was written into this story on a whim because I needed something to happen that my outline didn’t provide.
Luckily, I knew right away that she was just what my story needed, and she quickly became a fan-favorite for some of my writer friends. I’d go as far as to say that without Molly, the story as I wrote it wouldn’t be the same story at all (and not for the better).
So, if I was able to let go and let my manuscript evolve before, what’s holding me back now?
Probably more of that self-doubt, if I’m being honest. But I also think it might be a bad reaction to a loss of control.
It’s so easy to say, I’m the author, I’m in charge, what I say goes, but that’s just not the case.
If you’ve heard it once, you’ve heard it a hundred times—characters do what they want when they want it. As they become their own people, they often surprise us in ways we can’t comprehend or plan for.
For the most part, I’d say the characters in my manuscript acted about how I expected them to. But there were a few that surprised me. Several characters I had no intention of spending time on demanded a moment in the spotlight, and I think my novel is better for those additions.
Convincing myself to relinquish control over something I’ve dedicated so much energy on is nearly impossible, I admit, but I hope that as I spend time with this new story and these new characters, I can get a better feel for them. As I learn who they are and what they stand for, maybe they’ll convince me to let go of the wheel.
By coming to life, maybe they’ll help me to let go and get to work.