Days 13-16: Emotional Balance of Writing and Living

Last Thursday I crossed the 10k mark in the story — novel? — I'm writing. I really don't know what it is, to be honest. I'm just trying to keep my head above water and my hands open. 

Untethered to the process.

The last time I dove into a project, my why was a driving force. 

I have to know my why, I thought. Knowing my why will get me through those days I just can't force myself to sit in front of the page and do anything. 

I've changed a lot since then. Mostly, I don't need a why anymore. 

I'm also keenly aware of the emotional baggage of balancing writing a story and living a life. 

When I wrote the first draft of EVERY SHATTERED THING, I wrote until I couldn't write anymore. Literally. Russ and I went through something profoundly personal and emotional and I lost my words. I didn't recognize the warning signs to slow down, breathe deep, let the story out at its own pace.

This past week has been excruciating. 

Details aren't important. What's important is that my emotions are keyed to 11 on a scale of 1-10, and I know this because the tears are lodging themselves in my throat right now and if I were speaking instead of writing, I would be crying.

So seven days ago I crossed 10,000 words, and now I am resting at 12,737.

I thought I would have more by now, but I don't, and that's okay. I am fiercely loyal and protective over my emotions right now, and allowing myself (for the first time, really) listen to what my body and soul needs. This looks like peaking into the manuscript, developing a paragraph or two, and then shutting my laptop in favor of chatting with a friend who knows my soul or reading words I know will inspire. 

The upside: we're only 16 days in a 100 day project. I haven't said this yet, but I can't shake by the end of the 100 days, I will have completed my fifth book. In order to do this in the rhythm and pace and surprises I'm experiencing this time around, I'm allowing my creativity as much space as she needs. It's invigorating. It feels a lot like finding myself all over again.

And because I would never offer nothing of what I'm working on, here's a quote that's been written and tweaked and perfected since I last shared: 

There are moments in life where you experience something in technicolor. Everything around turns luminescent, a built in bokeh effect around the moment. Finding out my mother died is filed under this category.
So is finding out my sister is missing.
— Lavender.



Posted on April 19, 2018 .