What’s the longest trip you’ve ever taken?
Twenty years is a long time to be in “writer’s block” and I made the decision to remove quite a few distractions and overcome creative cowardice. I’ve begun to make some sacrifices to make room for writing, and although it’s a bit soul crushing, not writing my book is more soul crushing.
It all started with a few injuries that took me out of my martial arts practice. I left my dojo to heal several cases of tendonitis. I do plan on going back, but I’m not sure when. Then, I cut back my sewing, knitting, and crocheting. I often have tunnel vision when I’m in my creative zone weaving up my most loved garments.
Then, (the hard one and probably the most dangerous), I cut back on family time. I made a conscious effort to check in on family obligations, but if I’m honest, I usually write eight to ten hours on either Saturday or Sunday, locked in my art room, opening the door to eat, pee, and let the cat in or out. I still work full time, so I live for my weekends to get through as much of my draft as possible. This story has been in my head for so long that the characters feel like real people trapped in my head. They’re living there paying no rent and they need to leave.
My sacrifices aren’t perfect. They’ve forced me to reduce my community, embrace isolation, and dip my fingers into fewer cookie jars. However, they also got me through two hundred pages of draft in six months.
I have a long way to go, but the desire to write (even on the days when I’m stuck) has prevailed because I’ve forced the time instead of forced the act. I’ve given more time to practice, study, plan, and draft instead of getting stuck thinking and dreaming about the input and judging myself on the initial output.
This is one long trip. I look forward to the end of it, but the journey is certainly wild.
