I think when I don’t write things it’s because I expect someone will come along and say “your writing made me sad,” so I sort of procrastinate to get away from the fear of it actually being finished
Robert, this seems like a really insightful thing to realize. Do you want to be writing things? I have heard people recommend separating the writing part from the showing-other-people part. I wonder if that would help? You could decide to write and then later you have the choice of whether or not anyone sees it and what they might think. Once you write, you might realize that "Oh, this is sad but someone might feel less alone by reading it" or "This actually evokes an entirely different feeling I didn't expect!" or "Golly, I don't need to show anyone this but I'm glad I got it out." I have a feeling you have a lot of words in you. (And if I'm way off track, please disregard!)
Yes, I must do that! This makes me think that the “other people” I’m talking about might actually be parts of myself who get sad with the bleakness of my own work, which I guess is a helpful realisation for how I might confront this
I think I have this too, except substitute “sad” for “disappointed that this person I love is more conflicted and gloomy and ambivalent than I want them to be”
I find out with my job and parenting I had to rethink the whole concept of consistency. I joined writing accountability groups, which gives me three hours every week to do some writing. Sometimes that’s all the time I get, but it moves projects forward.
(Also if T is still taking long naps shortening them might help. I dreaded losing naps but now that my kid is five and doesn’t take them anymore, bedtime is much more consistent.)
Once again, dear Sophie, you've read my mail--pretty much all of it. For the longest time now, the only thing I've been consistent with when it comes to writing is giving myself permission to count all keystrokes that form any words, as writing. With that metric in mind, this comment may be all the writing I do today. I hope not, because I'm really tired and bored with my not-writing, and have so damn much to write about, including a cyber closet piled to the top (tho I'm unsure where that is...) with unfinished things. So, if this is my writing for today, I'm claiming a win and offering a Big Thank You for your fine post.
Here are Ten Things I Love About You:
1. Your kindness when sharing things about your process
2. Your deep honesty, including your dishonesty (elementary school book-stealing)
3. All the things you appreciate about the natural world, and draw birds
4. That you say "woo"
5. That you share your struggles and then how you meet them
6. Your lack of pretense, affectation, posturing, guile. Thou art no poser
7. What I believe is your 100% support for making up words (if this is not case, plz do not disabuse me of the notion until I'm in a stronger emotional state)
8. Your dedication to soft things and commitment to Creature Comfort
9. That you draw (really good) cartoons and always intend puns
10. Your unbounded creativity that always manages to seep thru your observations on limits.
#11 BONUS
Your love--for all the people/places/things, etc. in your life--that you so willingly express, which makes this such a safe space and incites today's word-making. Thank you, and love.
Oh how I need more time for play. You must have read my mind when you wrote this (and basically everything else!). One of the saddest things I can think of as I age is losing the ability for play and wonderment. It seeps out slowly as life pokes and pricks. This simple question was a good reminder to make an effort to regain some of what I’ve lost - thank you. And thanks for the movie alert - looks like a fun ride back to memory lane because you are right - Y2K shit was real!
My strongest memory from Y2K is from Dec. 31, 1999 when the US news showed footage of Australia celebrating the new year and the anchor said something along the lines of “it’s already tomorrow there, we’re gonna be ok!”
What are these myriad podcasts about scent?? Or that at least mention tomato scented things. Sounds quite appealing to me!
I think when I don’t write things it’s because I expect someone will come along and say “your writing made me sad,” so I sort of procrastinate to get away from the fear of it actually being finished
Robert, this seems like a really insightful thing to realize. Do you want to be writing things? I have heard people recommend separating the writing part from the showing-other-people part. I wonder if that would help? You could decide to write and then later you have the choice of whether or not anyone sees it and what they might think. Once you write, you might realize that "Oh, this is sad but someone might feel less alone by reading it" or "This actually evokes an entirely different feeling I didn't expect!" or "Golly, I don't need to show anyone this but I'm glad I got it out." I have a feeling you have a lot of words in you. (And if I'm way off track, please disregard!)
Yes, I must do that! This makes me think that the “other people” I’m talking about might actually be parts of myself who get sad with the bleakness of my own work, which I guess is a helpful realisation for how I might confront this
I think I have this too, except substitute “sad” for “disappointed that this person I love is more conflicted and gloomy and ambivalent than I want them to be”
Well, hopefully love can be about accepting someone for what they are regardless of what we might want them to be
I find out with my job and parenting I had to rethink the whole concept of consistency. I joined writing accountability groups, which gives me three hours every week to do some writing. Sometimes that’s all the time I get, but it moves projects forward.
(Also if T is still taking long naps shortening them might help. I dreaded losing naps but now that my kid is five and doesn’t take them anymore, bedtime is much more consistent.)
I love that owl!!
Once again, dear Sophie, you've read my mail--pretty much all of it. For the longest time now, the only thing I've been consistent with when it comes to writing is giving myself permission to count all keystrokes that form any words, as writing. With that metric in mind, this comment may be all the writing I do today. I hope not, because I'm really tired and bored with my not-writing, and have so damn much to write about, including a cyber closet piled to the top (tho I'm unsure where that is...) with unfinished things. So, if this is my writing for today, I'm claiming a win and offering a Big Thank You for your fine post.
Here are Ten Things I Love About You:
1. Your kindness when sharing things about your process
2. Your deep honesty, including your dishonesty (elementary school book-stealing)
3. All the things you appreciate about the natural world, and draw birds
4. That you say "woo"
5. That you share your struggles and then how you meet them
6. Your lack of pretense, affectation, posturing, guile. Thou art no poser
7. What I believe is your 100% support for making up words (if this is not case, plz do not disabuse me of the notion until I'm in a stronger emotional state)
8. Your dedication to soft things and commitment to Creature Comfort
9. That you draw (really good) cartoons and always intend puns
10. Your unbounded creativity that always manages to seep thru your observations on limits.
#11 BONUS
Your love--for all the people/places/things, etc. in your life--that you so willingly express, which makes this such a safe space and incites today's word-making. Thank you, and love.
dear sophie,
this is a great piece full of many valuable nuggets. here are some of my favorite lines:
"Some of my best success comes from writing while I’m moving."
"The best activities for creatives are in Lynda Barry’s books."
"You’d be amazed what you can get done in just 20 minutes, if 90 seems daunting."
"Even if you don’t like the thing you make, you will like the journey."
"I know that this is a season, and it will pass."
thank you for sharing as always!
love
myq
Oh how I need more time for play. You must have read my mind when you wrote this (and basically everything else!). One of the saddest things I can think of as I age is losing the ability for play and wonderment. It seeps out slowly as life pokes and pricks. This simple question was a good reminder to make an effort to regain some of what I’ve lost - thank you. And thanks for the movie alert - looks like a fun ride back to memory lane because you are right - Y2K shit was real!
My strongest memory from Y2K is from Dec. 31, 1999 when the US news showed footage of Australia celebrating the new year and the anchor said something along the lines of “it’s already tomorrow there, we’re gonna be ok!”
What are these myriad podcasts about scent?? Or that at least mention tomato scented things. Sounds quite appealing to me!