Finding Comfort in Community
November held a lot of nopes for me.
It’s funny, because week to week, it didn’t seem like it. In a lot of ways it was a great month, but as I look back, I’m realizing there were some things I was super excited about that didn’t pan out. And some of them had nothing to do with publishing! But some of them did, and one of the biggest nopes has been my own brain.
Yep. We’re noping ourselves these days. As if we don’t get noped by external factors enough.
In September, I wrote about being Stuck. Thankfully, it’s not that, but it’s a close second in the realm of Not Great feelings. It’s not being able to settle.
The ideas are there. The desire to write is there. The hype is there. But then suddenly –– it’s not. Like someone snuffing out a candle. Questions plague me, like what if this is the wrong book to write next? What if it isn't marketable? What if I hate it halfway through?
And my personal grave: What if I can’t do this story justice?
It’s cold feet to the max. It’s the fear of imperfection; wasted words and wasted time. It’s the looming thought that always haunts me after finishing a draft: Maybe this will be the last good idea I ever have.
I think these feelings will always exist to some extent. But I also know they’re magnified after nopes hit me. Like maybe if I wasn’t riddled with bullet holes from rejection, these big daunting questions would bounce off me, but instead they’re going through, icing me from the inside out.
I don’t know if there’s a clear cut formula for pushing forward when everything feels nebulous. It’s different for everyone, I’m sure. But I’ve learned that instead of harboring these unsteady feelings close to my heart like a secret, it’s easier when I talk about them. Because chances are, friends in my community have been there and are feeling the same way. And if you’re going to slog through the bog, you might as well make it a team endeavor. Don’t forget the snacks.
So, I’m finding comfort in community. In making memes and having tender conversations that build each other up and serve as a reminder that someone will always read my words, despite how imperfect or flawed they might be. Because no word written is a word wasted. I refuse to believe it.
Most importantly, we can’t stop because that thing we’re so afraid of? Failing? It’ll only happen if we give up. So that thought can’t even be on the table. Not all of us are sprinters, but one foot in front of the other still gets you to the finish line eventually. You just have to keep pushing, even if your feet stick to the floor and everything’s a little fuzzy like you don’t have your glasses on. It’ll clear up, because even the worst weather always does.
If you’re impatient like me, here’s some questions I’ve started asking myself to help zone in on what kind of story might make my heart burst:
What do I want to write?
What is my heart seeking right now that I can’t find in a book on the shelf?
What’s my favorite thing that I can’t get enough of and desperately want more?
What’s something that’s always intimidated me but I’ve always figured “not yet”? Bigger question: why not yet?
Who do I want to be six months from now? Make a character with that same motive so you can grow together.
Not questions, but equally helpful:
Go read a book
Go read another
Read until you find one that reminds you that you want to write stories that make readers feel like you feel
Go watch some TV
Actively force yourself not to write until you think your fingers might crumble to dust if you hold back for another second
Start yessing yourself. Write a pitch for fun. Experiment with a genre outside your comfort zone. Create a character you know you’d hate, just because you can. Who cares, you make the rules.
Most importantly, talk to your friends. Don’t keep all your insecurities bottled up and isolate yourself. Feeling a little lost is nothing to be ashamed of and the only way out is through. But it’s okay to make some detours on the way. You don’t need to be perfect. None of us are, and all our favorite characters are flawed, too, along with the stories that stick with us forever. That doesn’t make us love them any less.
