Writing With Abandon

If you've happened to glance at my Twitter feed over the past few days, you'll know that, so far, my NaNoWriMo is going quite well. I had a bit of a false start when I was sick on Sunday, but since Monday, I've managed a pretty solid pace, writing more than a thousand words every day. It's been very rewarding, most of all because I really feel like a writer again. That sounds a little bit weird, but prior to this project, and this blog, I wasn't doing much writing at all: over the summer, I only completed one short story.

Now, though, I have the feeling of writing every day, of taking the time to write and just really reconnecting with my craft and my identity. I know that I owe a very, very large debt to this blog assignment, because it's this blog that's taught me the discipline of writing even when I don't feel like it. There have been so many times over the past two months that I just really, really did not want to sit down in front of the computer and try to think of something to say so I could meet my requirement. But I did, and I'm glad that I did, because it's taught me a lot of how to focus and how to force myself to do the work even when I don't want to do so. I fully believe, evidenced by all the half-started projects and randomly updates blogs I've done in the past, that I wouldn't be here, in this state right now, if not for all of this.

You might say that makes me a little bit grateful. And also, oddly enough, a little bit nervous. What will happen when the semester ends and I know that I'm no longer being graded on this? Will my good habit revert back to my slothful, non-writing ways? I certainly hope not! I think, however, that I'm in a good position now, because even without the prospect of a grade, I've come to really look forward to this time spent writing and reflecting, and rambling, and trying to be funny.

Best of all, the combined projects of this blog and this NaNoWriMo thing have taught me how to keep writing through all the past fears and insecurities that would hamstring my story efforts. I can't even begin to count how many times I'd be working on a story, only to wonder "hmm, that doesn't sound as good" or "oh, I should go back and fix this one part." And then I'd never make any progress, because I'd be too busy worrying about how "good" something was, instead of how "done" it was getting.

Now, though? Now I'm just writing. I'm writing, knowing full well that there are some things I've written over the past week that are quite awful, that don't flow, or don't make sense, or repeat a word. And I don't care. Because I want to keep moving forward, I have to keep moving forward if I want to have any hope of finishing the story. It's a very exciting way to write, because it's a very gratifying way of writing. I'm not worried about being "good" or about living up to any expectations including and especially my own. I'm just exploring. I'm just doing. After so many years of writer's anxiety, it feels a lot like freedom.

I know that writers give each other all kinds of advice, and a lot of times, they give each other the same advice. And the problem with advice is that it's never as effective until you have that moment where you really grasp it on your own, the moment when you experience it and suddenly, everything clicks for you. So I know that by me telling you all to stop worrying and just write won't really amount to any real effect, because we've all been told that by the great writers who have answered when they were asked how they do it.

Even so, here's my advice: if you haven't tried it, write with abandon. Write without wearing any pants or shoes, write like crazy, write and absolutely do not care or stop or worry. Just go for it. Embrace it.

I don't know if this story will be any good. I don't even know if it will be readable. But what I do know is that I've never had this much fun in my life writing before, and that's not just something, in my opinion: it's everything.