“The other thing I would say is that if you feel safe in the area that you’re working in, you’re not working in the right area. Always go a little further into the water than you feel you are capable of being in. Go a little bit out of your depth. And when you don’t feel that your feet are quite touching the bottom you are just about in the right place to do something exciting.
David Bowie
Look, I never claimed to be a robot. There were millions of men before me and there will be millions of men after me that get butt hurt when a woman makes it clear that they’re just not feeling it. Sitting across from them at the diner on a first date, daydreaming and silently picking out the appetizers for the upcoming nuptials and then driving home later and getting the text, “I think you’re really nice but…” It’s a terrible feeling. The perfect material for poetry and songs, but terrible all the same.
Still, though, I’ve learned to respect it. Last week, when I kept getting up and deleting and rewriting the beginning of my YA novel that I was so excited about, I had a still voice inside of me that practically promised me I would not be wasting my time by continuing to get up and deleting and rewriting one more time. Now, today, after my fifth successful day of writing in a row, there is one note that rings clearer than nearly every other: listen to your heart.
I had a few well-meaning friends give me advice on how to write this thing, but I knew, deep inside, to smile and allow myself to just keep plugging away. I don’t want to seem close minded, and of course some people give fantastic advice, but writing is a very lonely art and it needs to come from that quiet place that no other person has access to.
For a 53 year old man to write a convincing YA novel, he needs to transport himself to a different dimension. The only way to get back there is to just keep hitting that wall with a pick ax until it crumbles down and you can finally walk through. That’s what I think I was doing all last week when I was writing and deleting. Banging on the ancient cave wall with a pick ax. Now that I have finally made my way through, it feels pretty awesome. And scary.
I think it’s permissible to say that if a writer is not dragging themselves through painful territory they’re probably not conveying anything that will touch another person. I saw this time and time again when I was writing for something as frivolous as the Elephant Journal. I’ve mentioned it before but it bears repeating: if you don’t feel cringey or a little embarrassed about what you’re admitting, no one is going to care. I can promise this.
And that is really everything I need to say on the subject of perseverance and persistence when it comes to being creative. The thing is, I have people that pay me for my work and I don’t want to cheap out by doing a 500 word article this week even though I’m at JFK Airport getting ready to fly to Copenhagen and then, finally, Venice. I know you know because I scarcely spoke of anything else for months.
I’d change the subject and tell you what my therapist said about how I expend an incredible amount of energy convincing myself that I’m okay always being by myself when I’m really not, but I don’t want to be the recipient of any criticism around the fact that I can’t follow a concise and well organized argument from start to finish.
“You began by talking about writing and now we’re discussing your loneliness and inability to face it honestly.”
Well, I’d also tell you about how my dear friend Pavita Ubered all the way out to Queens to spend time with me and see me off and how, when she walked through the door, I felt like I had never seen a more beautiful person.
Because she isn’t just a face on Instagram, she’s a living, breathing, warm human being that recognizes my humanity and hugs me and makes me feel loved. And I don’t have a lot of that.
I mean, I would, but that would once again seem really discombobulated and I don’t want to do that. So, instead, I will end here. 10 pm at JFK, moments from another priceless adventure.
Caio!
Another good one Billy while I peck away at my laptop writing for a frivolous online publication. 🤣Insert huge laugh. I almost quit writing for them last week. A story for another time. Enjoy your time in Venice. Stroll the cobble stoned streets and drink espresso at outdoor bistros while people watching to gather new material Train stations were a great source of subject matter for me, especially Union station in D.C. ❤️
“Writing is a very lonely art and it needs to come from that quiet place that no other person has access to.” You nailed it. Safe travels!