Fear and a Friend

And calling them what they are

Back in February I wrote a post on quitting things. It was inspired by having a wave of not being able to publish anything at the time. My writing had slowed down to a trickle and my thoughts had been quite disorganized and difficult to process through.

While I do think there were some seasonal elements to my “slowing down”, I actually think there was a stronger force at play.

I’m not knocking slowing down. We could all use a little slowing down.

I was scared.

I had signed up for a year-long writing project. That’s what I called it in this draft when I started it back in March, because I was afraid to call it what it is: Lani Diane Rich’s Year of Writing Magically workshop.

As we lit off the engines to warm up for writing our novels and screenplays and graphic novels, I was scared not only of the idea of writing a full-ass novel, but of the reaction I’d get from sharing that information with the world. So, year-long writing project was way less scary.

At first, I attributed my fear to My Voices telling me the term is too long and I’ll never get through it and I was stupid to sign up for it and I won’t produce anything good. Those are easy to interpret, as those voices and I have been chatting for years and we’re quite intimate.

I also thought this might be the good kind of scared where I get in line for a roller coaster that’s going to flip me over a few times. As I get closer to the tires clacking and the screaming and my heart rate elevates I get more and more excited and terrified. Later, I’ll get to tell the story about how they were running the Vapor in reverse, but the real heart-warming memory of the thing is how I met and bonded with some folks in line I never thought I would talk to, much less fit in with. That kind of scared sounds fun, and I used to be most scared to miss that kind of experience.

So much of my fear is coming from the idea of needing to be responsible for one more thing. It’s hard for me to emotionally separate things I choose to do from things I need to do. I think it’s because they also both feel the same when I stop doing them —it feel’s like failure. And thinking about taking on such a monumental task as novel writing feels like I’m setting myself up.

My body aches to write all of the time, though. To create, really. I don’t think of it as an option. I get tied up when creating is too overwhelming and that feels like failure or laziness or some other negative word. I can’t seem to get to the point where I look at my desire to be creative as a good thing. Instead, I’m stuck feeling like it’s a compulsion that can only lead to grief and frustration. (I just realized that’s freaking Rocket League, too!)

My body also aches from taking Paige on walks, tbh

As part of the Year of Writing Magically, our group began by talking about our fears. At the time, it was hard for me to imagine specific fears beyond this immense dread of just not getting a thing done. Would I find myself in week 1 missing a self-imposed deadline and look forward at the end goal and shrug it off as unattainable and therefore why bother? Or would it feel more like when I have let the dishes pile up all over the kitchen and it’s late and I want to go to bed? All I need to just rinse one thing. Start emptying the sink, and see where it goes from there.

I realized somewhere along the way that I was afraid people would find out I was going to write a novel. I think it’s been driven into my mind that people don’t just do things like that without completely wasting their time or being pretentious. This occurred to me a couple weeks ago when I found out I hadn’t told a friend/coworker that I was writing a novel. I told her I was in a writing group, but evaded the reason for the writing group. Until it became a must.

You see… because why was I running to Seattle for the weekend. Seems impulsive to skip work on Monday. Why would such a codependent human make a decision to leave the office in the lurch? Who is this person you’re going to see? What is she to you?

A very Chipperish coffee meetup

I’ve been listening to

Lani Diane Rich

since 2016. She’s inspired so much out of me - writing fiction, publishing

5:20 Pacific

, creating podcasts… creating in general. We’ve guested on each other’s podcasts. And last weekend, after nearly 8 years of having her in my ears over dishes, or walking to work, or prepping to write, or falling asleep, Mary and I joined her in Bellevue for some coffee and conversation.

I have been changing what I call Lani to other people. An acquaintance? Seems like more that that. Like many podcast hosts, I feel like I’ve spent some time in Lani’s recording studio. She’s opened herself up to the world, and because of that I have this non-zero amount of understanding of her values as she tells them. I don’t think it’s right to hold her to those. I understand that even me writing on this platform is more a characterization of me as a person. I’m capturing moments of feelings and feelings of moments more than encapsulating my whole being here. Still, I think “acquaintance” flattens the relationship.

I’ve definitely called Lani a writing mentor and teacher. These can be true, I think. But both labels are also reductive, and probably inaccurate. There’s no accountability of production involved. Lani is not grading me, or taking the time to hold my hand through a crowded field of professionals.

And since there’s always a timely creation by another human being at times like these, I ran into this lovely post by

Erica Berry

.

Letting Go of the Mentor Myth

To care deeply about the writing of a peer… is an act of faith and love. You do not do it because it will get you anything, you do it because you love your friend, and you love what they are doing on the page, and you want to be a part of it. I am so confident in this calculus: that showing up for peers matters as much, or more, than cultivating connections with important people a few career-steps ahead of you. 

Turns out I could have just asked Lani, too. She calls me a friend. I’ve felt scared to use that label because she is more than “a few career-steps” ahead of me. After reading Erica’s beautiful words, I’ve never been more convinced. And in our Year of Writing Magically, Lani is one of our peers, slugging along, sharing in our successes and our perceived failures. She loves us, loves what we’re doing, and is so damn chipper about being a part of it. <3

Seen in a bathroom moments before meeting Lani. (yes, I washed my hands)

Voiceovers!

I’ve added voiceovers to my first couple of posts. I really enjoy them from other authors, especially for accessibility, as I don’t often have the ability to just read and often need an accompanying activity. Try out my first couple posts if you’re interested….

The Next, Darker Day

My Voices