By Kathleen Sawisky, Esq.
This week Kathleen takes the reins as Ashley herds small children and attempts to not lose her mind!
I should be writing. I should be writing an awesome scene that has Natalia stabbing a child molester right in the stomach in a show of strength yet unseen in her as a character. I should write it because it would be awesome, but I feel tapped out.
This happens to me every so often. I know some other folks describe the same sort of thing as ‘writer’s block’, and everyone has their own way of dealing with it. Some people push through, others take a break, do some reading, learn a new skill, or gaze silently at their family and question all their life choices. Personally, I tend to just let it ride out. I’m never going to produce anything of substance if I am forcing it. And besides, it’s not as if my brain stops working while I am taking my well-deserved mental rest.
It’s been a crazy week, and I’m sure that’s part of the issue. I found a part time job as a marketing/comm specialist for a local video game start up, and I’ve been offered the opportunity to try my hand at writing every so often. Sign me up! Tomorrow is my convocation ceremony wherein I will pretend to be a wizard and/or blue bird (I have yet to decide). And did I mention our usually-rainy-month of June has decided that now is a good time to be 32 degrees? Our condo, sans AC, is sweltering, and my brain is about as functional as a half-empty jar of sauerkraut.
And still, still Natalia calls to me. She wants to stab that moron in the stomach and get it over with. Part of the struggle between being a blob and being productive comes from the fact that at least two of my beta readers have finished stumbling their way through Book 1, and I’m becoming increasingly more nervous about what they have to say. I’ve always had a problem dealing with critique, which is something I’ve been working on quite diligently. Not even in writing. When I was a wee child performing at the Kiwanis Music Festival (I have the voice of an angel crossed with Tom Waits and yes, it is fabulous.) I used to get teary-eyed whenever the adjudication came around. I always wanted to be the best, but I was only ever average. That was until a couple years back. I stopped singing after 16 years of lessons because, well, life, and as an adult I finally decided to take lessons again because I wanted to. I entered the Kiwanis Music Festival, one song only in the Musical Theatre Category, because I wanted to do it.
What would you know? First place. I kicked musical ass that day, and it acted as a bit of a revelation for me. There comes a time when you have to stop bowing to the commands and demands of others and pursue things, or not, because that is what you want. The pressure that is exerted on us might just be part of the reason why we sometimes feel like our efforts are artificial and don’t reflect what we are trying to do and say.
When I took my writing into my own hands, when I joined Critique Circle and I made the decision to pursue self-publishing, that was when my work began to feel like a more honest reflection of myself. It’s not perfect, and it isn’t a mirror image of what I see play out in my head, but it is still more honest than what I was writing and rewriting when I had family members pressuring me to do something with it.
Now I only tell family and friends about my writing after it is gone and out of my hands. It’s been submitted, it’s in a slush pile, it belongs to the astral plane now, and I have no control over what happens next. It’s a nice feeling. It is also terrifying, which is probably why I peed myself a little bit (both at the Kiwanis Festival and when sending Book 1 to the beta readers. Only one peeing incident was expected, and I’ll let you guess which one.)
So there you have it. If you want to be okay with criticism, take singing lessons for 16 years, then stop, then take some again 5 years later and then try writing. I don’t know, maybe it’ll work a second time.
D.M. Gutierrez
Crackin' The WIP 