on writing//why i write

back in november i attempted for the second time to participate in nanowrimo.  the whole writing 50,000 words in one month, or at least coming somewhat close to accomplishing a novel is the goal.  and i came close...well, closer than i ever have before, and that was encouraging.

but what ended up resulting from that november endeavor was a collection of vignettes rather than one big story.  i was intrigued with the product and over the past couple of months had been reviewing what had been written.  i couldn't quite piece together from those random small stories, where a larger more involved plot might take hold.

each vignette seemed to hold its own. there is potential, but nothing that quite captured me.  and for some reason i think that is what is holding me back.  i always search out and seek to hear what inspired writers to write their great books.  and sometimes it sounds so magical and romantic i would get discouraged and think, i'll never be a writer like that.

but the unique ones, the authors i found that inspired me most, were the ones that really worked to hone their story.  the ones that fought day in and day out, against the block, against the disillusionment, and listened, and waited, and kept on writing, hoping and knowing their story would unfold.

i think of david gutterson, who as a teacher, sacrificed the early morning hours to write over the course of ten years, and eventually came forth with an award winning captivating novel.

i think of anne lamott and her old adage of writing a lot of shitty first drafts.

i think of fitzgerald who said, "all good writing is swimming underwater holding your breath."

and with that i find encouragement amongst a community of strangers whom i feel very deeply connected to because i've read the many beautiful and ugly words that have poured out of their heart, soul, creativity, determined imaginations...and i thought...maybe i too could do this.

and so i try,

in a committed fashion,

to write everyday.

the story is unfolding slowly but surely, and it is like the unfurling of a new love.  it holds the same excitement and intrigue.  you want to slowly peel back the layers to find the depths of its being.

It's all in the choosing...

"What are you going to do? Everything, is my guess. It will be a little messy, but embrace the mess. It will be complicated, but rejoice in the complications. It will not be anything like what you think it will be like, but surprises are good for you. And don’t be frightened: You can always change your mind."
- Nora Ephron

we have the freedom to choose. i have the freedom to choose.  it comes with being a human, i suppose with being an American, and mostly it comes with being an adult.  and as we learn at a young age, with freedom comes great responsibility, so in our free-ness to choose, we are stuck being responsible for our choices.

sounds good, doesn't it?

lately, choosing feels less like a freedom and more like an obligation. i am tired of choosing.  i wish i could hire someone to choose for me, or i wish i could choose without fear of impending doom, as if i could possibly be messing everything up.

sometimes choosing feels so far outside of my control and the choices just come out and i'm left standing there wondering how or why it happened the way it did.

and more often than not, i am learning that choosing hurts.  it hurts to choose and be told "no."  it hurts to say yes, and be rejected.  it hurts to say "no," when you really want to say yes, but know that it is best not to, even though you desperately do, want to say yes.  it's painful. so, what to do we do with this freedom of choice?

i love what tom hank's character (Sam Baldwin) says in "Sleepless in Seattle" when he ends up on a radio chat with Dr. Marcia Fieldstone.  She asks him "People who truly loved once are far more likely to love again. Sam, do you think there's someone out there you could love as much as your wife? And he replies, Well, Dr. Marcia Fieldstone, that's hard to imagine.  So she asks, What are you going to do? and his reply is just so grand...and all about the choosing.

Well, I'm gonna get out of bed every morning... breathe in and out all day long. Then, after a while I won't have to remind myself to get out of bed every morning and breathe in and out... and, then after a while, I won't have to think about how I had it great and perfect for a while.

i just love the response.  it's so real, so down to earth, so honest, and so true to how i think many of us often feel.  because sometimes it feels as though we are all on a trajectory that cuts through grief, loss, sadness, then shoots us back to hope, joy, and then we head down that boomerang of a path, yet again.

so, i suppose the art of choosing is found too in accepting the consequences of our choices, good and bad.  even when in the choosing it doesn't really feel like we had a choice.  and then surrendering to the fact that it is not always our choice or choosing.  sometimes things just happen and that too can be a surprising delight or bring about deep harrowing sadness. but in that we have to choose to let go, to give in, to heal, to walk through the pain, to share, to hide out, and then ultimately to hope again.