You Must Unlearn All That You Have Learned
A lot harder.
Sometimes it feels like I’m wringing a dry cloth.
Yesterday, I stared at a cursor all day long. I wrote and erased a hundred or so sentences. I didn’t really do much but contemplate the fact that I might not be a person who can write anymore. That wasn’t as terrifying a thought as I thought it would be, which is also frightening.
I definitely feel something inside of me trying to get out. And it feels the way that writing felt, but I have to entertain the idea that maybe it isn’t.
Maybe it’s something else.
I know I could put some words down on a page. I could work it out like a job. You might not even be able to tell the difference… but I used to be able to find a “crease.” I could just poke around in my head, put my finger to a spot and say “Oh, here is where we go next” and navigate it all by instinct.
I’ve written quite a bit since the change, but when I look back over it, there something missing.
Maybe it’s the whole me/him thing again. I know I talk about “do the opposite” like it’s a joke, and it is, but I also have very religious sentiments about it. I began as a joke, and now I’m a person. Yet, however fucked-up BC Woods was, he was definitely a more natural writer than I am.
I might be able to write better stories and better books than him because I have a better work ethic, and for as much potential as he had, he was never going to do that. However, I miss being able to poke around in my head and find that crease by instinct. I miss that feeling of knowing where the “edges” are in a story.
I think maybe that’s simultaneously self-aggrandizing and self-deprecating. Was I ever actually good? I was okay. Not great. I was a mediocrity. Most people are. But now I’m not even a mediocrity. I’m a guy trying to do a job. It feels like work, at least.
I’ll keep at it.
Hopefully something gives.
Oh, and I’ve been talking to my cats.
I’m not able to view that Yoda video. But you don’t have to unlearn shit! Just move along. Learning isn’t about going back, self doubt, fretting and questioning. It’s about living with your shit sometimes. Or perceived shit. And then moving along.
Writing *and* self-judging? That is a one-two punch of exhausting. Who said ‘it’s not the writers place to judge the value of his work’? Someone. Someone said this! Think of it this way. 90% of writers clearly are not listening to this advice so why should you? Unfortunately I don’t think you can back out anyhow, not without becoming very miserable.
You’ve been going through a lot. You have a new life. A new freaking house. Two new creatures. That being said, don’t cut yourself any slack by over-indulging in self-doubt. It’s best served as a side with a nice main meal moving forward. Writing is only sometimes this incandescent thing that throws a blanket over the daily, the little bits, the often damn tedious jobbiness of being a somewhat functioning human animal.
And for the love of Sheba, writers HAVE to “self-aggrandizing and self-deprecating.” It’s a muscle as important as any of the others you’ve been building.
I’m working on it. Even though I do an awful lot I sometimes feel like I haven’t done anything at all. I’m going to get a sold plan on this today at work if we’re slow again. I’m going to try to push through the first draft this weekend.
Since you insist on splitting your past and present into two people, I’ll say this. BC Woods was never a mediocre writer, and being self-deprecating is a BC Woods trait not an AD Forest one. I don’t believe you drew your ability to write from being unhappy, so do the AD Forest thing and finish the story.
With how much you’re working out and burning fat, are you sure your brain is getting enough calories? I’m serious.