This week everything hit at once. Crazy holidays led to crazy snow days which led to more housework than anyone should ever have to do. Ever.
I keep finding glitter in the most remarkable places.
I had Critique Partner reading that needed immediate attention, contest
winners to choose, kiddos to, y' know, raise and stuff, and laundry that insisted on making me its b%tch.
On top of all that, I have a Work in Progress that is ab-so-lute-ly killing me.
I've never written anything like it. It's dark, messy, involved, in third person and it doesn't contain a lot of funny. I like the funny. I understand the funny.
So here's my confession. I'm scared of this book.
I'm scared that I'm not good enough to write it. Scared that trying and failing will do me in as an artist. Terrified the words that want to be written might make me bleed, both from my pen and from my heart. I kind of want to call Holly Black (anybody have her number?) and tell her the basics and watch her run with it (with flames shooting out behind her).
I have struggled with depression in the past. Maybe a taboo topic, but I'm not ashamed to share. I deal with it by knowing my boundaries. There are some stories/situations/people I approach with caution. I need to laugh, a lot. My sarcasm and my wonky sense of humor are definite shields. I have a very carefully placed filter that I protect vigilantly.
That's why I read the ending first sometimes.
Writing is a process with many intricacies - not just the nuances of craft - but the emotions that have to be faced to do the craft well. Every character I write comes from some part of me. My best characters come from the parts that aren't so pretty.
This story might have more ugly than I care to handle at one time.
Yet while I'm afraid to explore what has been placed in my heart to transcribe onto paper, I know that I have an army of friends and family behind me who understand and who know how to love me well. I know that writing is my calling. I rest in the fact that I am absolutely doing what I'm supposed to do.
So I made a decision today, in the midst of all my folding/washing/cleaning/organizing (procrastinating).
Line by line, word by word, letter by letter ... this story is going DOWN.
Do or do not. There is no try.