Hi friends.
I started writing another book a week ago. I started writing it because I had set myself up for it, carved out a few weeks in my life to really be present for this new, generative moment. It was time. My goal is to have a clean-ish 80-100 pages by fall, and to have an understanding of what this book is about, even if I have a ways to go on writing it. March 2, I knew I was all in on starting this sucker.
I have to stay on a schedule, because this is how I make my living. I always need to have a book in the pipeline, starting it or writing it or finishing it and sending it out into the world because otherwise I can't make money, live my life, pay my bills. There is no backup plan for me, no academic security, no trust fund, no joint income, there is just the writing. Lucky me, I love the writing! But I feel the insistent push just like anyone else with a full-time job. So I keep going. And now is the time I have to work.
And every day I went to the page felt potentially volatile in a dozen different ways. Every direction I could take with the material felt like it might trigger a new skirmish in my heart. It was all so emotionally messy. I was handwriting and not thinking too hard about what I was saying—my writing self was just taking care of the emotional content—but when I was typing up my notes later in the day I could see where I had been and where I was going. It was just some sticky, sticky business.
The tenacity of feelings we thought we could ignore. They wedge themselves inside you. They know exactly how to stick to your ribs, or maybe they know all your secret hiding places. But when you start writing, they pop right to the surface again. An unrelenting rash of emotions. And they make sure you can’t go any further until you contend with them.
Honestly I was like: Wow, this is a little too soon in the writing for it to feel this messy. What’s up, deep emotions? It’s been a while. But sometimes you gotta dump a bunch of feelings out on the page to get to the feeling you really want to be writing about. Trust me, I would much rather be writing to another place than the one I am currently circling, but I can see I have to wade through about ten thousand words just to get to that new place.
So I'm in the middle of that right now. Stay hydrated when you're in that stage, is all I can say. (Drinking water is my always my hottest tip.)
Actually I am mostly dealing with this moment by doing exactly the amount of work I need to do every day, and no more than that. Not lingering in the tough stuff, but showing up and addressing it and then getting the fuck out and taking a walk or something. I probably will plant a bunch of stuff in my garden, too. Doing something positive and of the earth and real and tangible instead of just living in my head. Have dinner with some friends. Go see some music, some art. See things in the real world instead of just living in the challenging space of my interior self.
Then it’s back to it. Write it until it’s over and done and time to move onto the next place. That’s all we can do.
Anyway, that’s how my writing is going—how’s yours? I hope you’re feeling safe and productive and prepared as we roll into spring.
Jami
You are reading Craft Talk, the home of #1000wordsofsummer and also a weekly newsletter about writing from Jami Attenberg. I’m also on twitter and instagram.
Jami, I hope you know how much it helps us (the happy band of Craft Talk readers) to hear about your process. It's like having the wisest, kindest guide. In my own work, I'm currently digging deeper into giving my messy early work on this book a shape--which means I am also actually *committing* to the book, which stirs up its own emotional messiness. Just trying to stay here for all of it.
So helpful, especially you delving deep into the emotional process. What you say is reassuring, because one can convince oneself it’s avoidance when it’s really not. The idea of doing everyday things to help the process is essential. My spouse and I have coined this “letting the boys (and girls) in the basement do their thing.” That we allow our deepest parts of creativity and intuition work through the process in that subconscious and soul space (whatever it is), has always felt right. It makes space for the emergence of great things! Thank you for your candor in everything.