Writing Struggles

Prefer to Listen? Copy and paste the text here: https://www.naturalreaders.com/online/

This blog post is a bit of a time capsule. It is too old to be really relevant, but I did not want to delete it. I originally wrote this around November, but I never posted it because the former toxic friend was sapping all my energy, leading to an unplanned Spacehey hiatus. Everything in bold was written today (8/20/24) for context.

I mentioned in my KenKen blog post that I had a terrible roommate who messed with my memory. She also wrecked my ability to write. For as long as I can remember, I have loved telling stories. I made it through high school by constantly writing stories in notebooks that I carried everywhere. My first class in college was a playwriting class. I had ideas for so many plays and books. Some of the play ideas are still there, but the stories are gone. I remember some of the vaguest concepts, and my friends used to ask about the stories I would tell them (I have letters as evidence for this), but any time I try to remember anything else, it's not there. I know I could just take the concepts and start over with them, but even now, it feels like they died, and I'm not ready to move forward with what I've lost.

I could, however, see myself starting with something new. It might sound silly to someone who has never played, but D&D has really reignited that storytelling spark in me that felt so far gone. Since starting, I find myself dreaming up scenes with my favorite characters and even occasionally writing down short stories about them. It never lasted long though, until the past year. I really want to write a book about my first character, even if I never do anything with it. It does not clamor in my mind and invade my dreams the way the stories of my youth would, but it constantly hums in my heart, and on an increasing number of days, it chatters to me. One of the goals I did not meet this year was to write half of the book...I VERY much did not get there. As present as it is in my mind, it also hurts too much to interact with too long. There is my ever present imposter syndrome, but who cares if I'm an imposter when I am not committed to publishing? There are two serious boundaries here:

1) My focus. I can't just write 400 pages in a notebook anymore. My questionably healed broken finger will not allow it, especially on cold days. I swear by the constant saving on google docs, but right next to that tab is whatever the hell my impulses want...And I am not a good babysitter for my impulses. ("I can resist everything but temptation," a mantra for those with ADHD, and the very gay. Oops, that's me.) You can tell me about "focus mode" all day, but if I'm the one in charge of it, it will not work. While scrolling facebook, an advertisement for the Freewrite products caught my eye. They look lovely, and sound perfect for getting me to make my first draft. But those prices...absolutely not. I searched for alternatives, and asked a friend for advice. My friend steered me towards the Alphasmart. I took her advice, and it arrived yesterday. So far, I am pleased. I think I have written more since owning it than I did in half of the previous year. In fact, I am typing up all of my bulletins and blog posts for Spacehey on it. I might be in love.

2) My fear. There is a large part of me that is afraid that my ability to write died with my memory. Writing used to be a part of who I was. I was known for it by acquaintances as much as tea-drinking. It was how I processed my feelings, and ventured beyond our realm. What if that's gone? Was I so cracked to my core that this part of me bled out? The idea of sitting down to write a novel only to discover that such a significant part of myself is gone is...so painful. But avoiding this risk will not bring my writing back. And it certainly won't quiet the humming within me. I need to face it. 

So here goes nothing. Wish me luck. 

This part is a bulletin I intended to post in early April, but I was still in the resting portion of healing and not ready to be back.

I Actually Am Writing

I worried that I couldn't do it after March, but I am actually writing again. I started the beginning of a novel about my first D&D character. This previously huge block is flowing out of my fingertips so much faster than I anticipated. And I am thinking about it in my spare time. I'm looking forward to carving out time to continue. I know that a lot of people who play D&D think they have a book in them, but this one is mine. I've been telling myself that anyone can write a book, and I happen to be a part of that category. It's oddly motivating for me. I don't have to write the perfect first draft, or most original story. I can just write my own book, the way I want to. I don't need to be perfect, because I am anyone.

If you have been reading my recent bulletins, you know I have been writing on my alphasmart and I still love it. However, the flaws of using older tech have shown themselves. My favorite alphasmart used to spit gibberish, but that appears to have fixed itself after I dropped it and M fiddled with it. I HAVE lost writing on it, even enough to make me cry. When it runs out of battery, sometimes it saves the writing, sometimes it doesn’t. I do want a Freewrite now. I am hoping to be able to jump on their next warehouse sale. 

The idea that I am anyone is still helping me go! It is hard to have imposter syndrome when I have removed the pressure that would demand impersonating a hypothetical someone. I’m proud of my little mantra.