inchworm January 14, 2008
i’ve told myself for weeks now that i’ll get up early and write and then workout. now here i am at sixeighteen in the morning, no sunshine or birds to say “welcome to this new day” but rather the discouragement of yet-night and the thought that the sun isn’t even out of bed yet, so is there some insane reason why i’ve opened my own ojos . so i talk to myself, in keeping with my morning insanity “theme”
“self, don’t forget, you want to write. you want to be fit. you always say you need more hours in the day. you always complain that you’re not the writer you could be. self, don’t forget. let the sun sleep, while you grow into something great”
and then after having convinced myself to actually wake up and brave the cold house, i sat at my computer and thought (or didn’t think, my mind in the morning is like an analog tv with no cable or antenna….it’s really fuzzy and just doesn’t get any reception. i’m not a morning person) “i have no idea what to write that would be productive. not just a personal blog, but something to train my writing skills” – (obviously, i wasn’t able to come up with anything fast enough, blame it on a lousy internet connection….i didn’t mean that metaphorically, but if the shoe fits…) and now my “time” for writing is almost up and i’ve had several ideas for morning projects, but i have to work out now…..
(the other day i decided not to be a great writer, or a sub-par writer or an amateur writer. somehow those classifications, even the good ones, limit me. i just want to be a writer who is learning to write.
this was a result of an epiphany, which any woman knows doesn’t count unless it’s discussed with someone…
|Me to Aaron:||(probably should’ve been obvious, but…..) ever since I was pretty young, my mom and various other people close to me have told me i’m a good writer. i’ve always gotten really good grades in anything writing in school, but i know (it’s not hard to see) that it’s been bs writing. I read a little bit of one of my old journals recently and it’s pretty plain that a lot of my writing is just like my dads….an “interesting string of words that don’t make sense or really say anything, or convey the “message”but because I’ve always felt I was a better than average writer two things have happened….one, i’ve not been teachable. you and kyle were the only ones to ever really teach me anything about writing, or about developing my style becuase mom never argued with it and i arrogantly considered myself better than everyone else (who wasn’t a professional writer)
and the perfectionist in me shuts me down. even reading great writing to learn would frustrate me becuase I feel like I’m a good writer, so then why can’t I write like that …and no longer consider myself a “good” or “talented” writer.from now on, I’m just a writer.
Aaron to Me: wow..smooch this is really great
(he’s very concise. not so much me. enter honing of skills…)
so the good news is, i’m inching along. i got up. i wrote. i stuck to my timeline. so self, stop kicking yourself for not roughing out the first draft of the great american novel this morning. don’t be so unreasonable in your perfectionism. maybe you can do that tomorrow morning or the next, when you’re more used to getting up at this hour.