For the past couple months, I’ve felt discouraged by various aspects of my life. Those feelings aren’t a constant, they tend to ebb and flow, but this morning the discouragement rose up in me again. With a vengeance.
Then I thought back to what I felt last month when I was offered an assignment to write a book about birds. Not only was I so darned happy, but I was also filled with a sudden certainty: without a doubt, more good things were coming my way.
If only I could’ve bottled those feelings. But right now I’m doing the next best thing to help reexperience that confidence and certainty. I’m opening my arms wide and chanting my mantra: More good things are coming my way.
Yep, that feels so much better.
If you’re feeling not-great right now, say it with me: More good things are coming my way.
Photo by Heloisa Freitas from Pexels
If you are born an artist,
you have no choice but to fight to stay an artist.
~ Lana Del Rey
Per my experience, this feels like a true sentiment. There’s an inner urge/drive/motivation that doesn’t seem to ever go away. No matter what.
However, some days it’s harder than others to put on those boxing gloves and assume the fighting stance.
I’m working on my new-old middle-grade project, one I partially drafted and then set aside for six years. It’s been a slow process as I reenter this manuscript, but not painfully so. It’s more of a satisfying slowness as I put down words that, at times, feel very close to being just right.
Image from pexels.com
Who knows? Those words may end up being absolutely wrong.
But right now it doesn’t matter. Right now I’m allowing myself to enjoy the slow, deliberate movement of this particular story’s metamorphosis.
That right there is progress.
I grabbed my copy of WRITERS DREAMING from the shelf and opened it in hopes of finding something interesting/insightful to share here today. I wasn’t searching for anything in particular and within a couple minutes, I happened upon these two excerpts:
I’m the kind of writer who doesn’t take notes.
I tell myself, trust the unconscious.
If something is important enough in my unconscious life I will remember.
It will come to me when I need it.
So I don’t keep a notebook of good lines, good thoughts or dreams.
~ Bharati Mukherjee in WRITERS DREAMING
Usually I don’t take notes
even when I have an idea for a story until I actually sit down to do it.
Because I always have felt that I have so many ideas that the ones that are important to me, that really are good, will stay.
And the other stuff will fade.
That’s kind of a filing system.
If it was not that interesting, or not that good an idea, if it had a germ of something good in it, that part will come back.
It’ll be in there somewhere.
~ John Sayles in WRITERS DREAMING
What the hell? No notes? Because the unconscious? And because bad will fade away and good will make itself known?
Who are these writers with their functioning memories and bizarre confidence in their abilities?!
I can’t imagine life without notebooks.
I have a variety of notebooks in a drawer, waiting for me to pull them out to write down all sorts of things inside. The good, bad, and everything in between. It’s how I sort out what’s what and who’s who in my stories. Notebooks help me navigate the oftentimes confusing dance of ideas going on in my head.
I take notes because I’m that kind of writer.
I love watching Usain Bolt run the 100 m.
Head down out of the blocks,
go go go.
Then glance to the right,
glance to the left.
No one close.
Grin and coast across the line.