Hi. I'm Jenna McGuiggan.
Join The List!

Sign-up to receive stories, specials, & inspiration a few times a month.

search this site
« In The Word Cellar: An Announcement & Invitation | Main | To Haiti with Love »
Tuesday
Feb092010

Fretting when I should be writing

My husband often says, "Once you do something once, it's that much easier to do it again." He applies this to situations good and bad. Trying to start an exercise practice? Go to the gym once and you're over the initial hump; it'll be easier to go back. Conversely, once you eat that first donut and derail your healthy eating habits, it's that much easier to eat a half dozen of the sugary circles. (If donuts are your thing, that is. For me, potato chips have become a trigger. Keep those salty little bastards away from me!)

There's a lot of truth in this mindset. And yet, sometimes it just doesn't seem to hold true, even when logic dictates that it should. For me, writing is this way. Some people think that because I write a lot, it comes easily. That should be true. The more I write, the easier writing should become. On one hand, it is true. The more I write, the more I learn about writing and the more I know how to overcome obstacles and have the courage and skills to try new things.

But writing is often a struggle for me. I'm not saying this in a boo-hoo-writing-is-so-hard-woe-is-me kind of way. Let's be honest: In the list of possible careers and activities, writing is a pretty sweet gig. It's not digging ditches or being an accountant -- necessary but dreadful tasks. (Full disclosure: My husband wants to be an accountant.)

I've been avoiding writing lately. I've been thinking about writing a lot, at least once every hour. But I keep putting off sitting down and stringing words together. Even after six years of freelancing, four years of blogging, and seven months of graduate school deadlines, I'm afraid of writing. When I get into this headspace, I let the fear get in the way of the joy.

I love words and the beauty of language so much that sometimes I can barely stand to touch them. During the last semester of my MFA program, I discovered new wells of words within myself. This resulted in some of the best things I've ever written. Most of those pieces still need work, but they are beautiful and I adore them. But I've let them become too precious, because now I'm afraid touch them. I wrote something so lovely that I've intimidated myself. Isn't that sweet and utterly absurd?

For each of my paragraphs that make me swoon, I've written hundreds that make me cringe. For each line that sings, there are thousands that have croaked. I know enough now to know that this is all part of the process. I know there is nothing to fear, and yet I let myself fret.

I'm sharing this with you in case you look at other artists and envy their work and what you perceive as their natural talent and ease. I certainly do this too often. Remember: We usually only see the glorious, final product, not the labored, crazy-making effort that came between start and finish.

Julia Cameron, author of The Artist's Way, offers a helpful perspective on making art. She tells God: "You take care of the quality; I'll take care of the quantity." Author Elizabeth Gilbert says much the same thing about her Muse in the video above (which I've featured on this site before). I'm going to watch it again, and then I'm going to push past fear and write, no matter how I feel about it.

I'm working on becoming a better writer. For me, this means not only improving the craft of my writing, but also improving the process of my writing practice so that I find -- and stick with -- a practice that works for me.

What creativity-suppressing gremlins are you dealing with today? I invite you to share them in the comments. Simply naming them can take away much of their power over you.

Reader Comments (6)

Oh, I sooooooo relate to this!!! Actually, the only time I truly feel happy creating is when I'm engaged in some form of creative expression I've never tried before. Like when I began taking photographs last summer. Only then do I have no expectations of myself. Pile on no pressure. As soon as I decide I'm reasonably good at something, that's it. The pleasure vanishes pretty much forever as the perfectionist monster within me rears up and takes control. And makes me miserable. What a sorry state of affairs!

Nothing helped until I stumbled across Christine Kane recently and her injunctions to take imperfect action. It's helping like nothing else ever has. Though it's still SO hard. Being imperfect doesn't come naturally! :)

But I'm determined to escape that perfectionist monster and find the pleasure in creating once more. Since it's what I do. (Or rather what I want to do. Too often the said monster has stopped me before I've even got started.....stymied me completely). I don't want to be perpetually miserable.

I'm determined, too, to stop falling into the trap of assuming that it comes easily to everyone else. And forgetting that they screwed up and threw six zilliion drafts in the bin and pulled half their hair out before the masterpiece before me saw the light of day. Didn't they?

I could rant about this all day. It's the ongoing drama of my life. I'll stop. But you get the idea. Let's just say I understand where you're coming from, Jenna! :)
February 9, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterHelen (Dixon Hill Girl)
Loved this blog entry and the video! As I stated on facebook, I needed this. Anyway, here are mine.

I'm afraid of my ending and for that reason, I am paralyzed unable to begin. I have 350 pages of my memoir written out, words that I at one time loved and now I fear they have aged on me, becoming the person in the bed next to me that I no longer recognize. Even worse, that I no longer want to sleep next to. I feel like anyone could write and live my life better than I have and for that reason, I'm "fretting" when I should be writing.

But, thanks to your post and this wonderful video, I'm going to write today. I mean really right and I don't care if my genius is somewhere jacking off, I'm going to write so hard that he (Yeah, my genius would be a he. LOL) is going to be embarrassed for not showing up to work today!
February 9, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterLaurie
Great post, Jenna.

I SO appreciate your transparency here! And, of course, it is beautifully written :)

I'm thinking of you as you kick those gremlins out of your head and delve deeper into your craft.

My struggle lately? Figuring out what I really want, fretting over making so much less money, balancing the hibernation of winter with still being productive...all while feeling the pull to go much deeper spiritually (like an Ashram in India or yoga-teacher training).....and wishing I could get paid monetarily for all the time I spend thinking about these things!
February 9, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterLisa
my gremlins are in full gear these days ... worrying about letting others down, letting myself down and wondering where my words go when i need them most ... and yet when i sit down, after they sneer at me in that way that they do, they eventually come around. i always think it will get easier and am disappointed when it doesn't and maybe i just need to accept that it will always be hard and i will continue to do it anyway.

love your words, always ... xo
February 10, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterdarlene
I'm always battling the "who do you think you are" gremlin. I've been taking Kate Swoboda's Courageous Year class and, in it, she speaks of how our inner critic is our best friend with very bad communication skills. I sort of love that because it separates me in a way from my critic - just as Elizabeth Gilbert suggests. It gives me the chance to say, "hey, don't speak to me that way, at least I showed up!"

Love this post and love that Ted talk - it's one of my all time favorites. Thanks for the chance to listen again!
February 10, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterKelley
Each time I sit down to write there's a voice inside going 'I can't do this again; I have nothing to say". And each time it is not true. Part of the process? Maybe. But I could do without that inner saboteur. I'm slowly learning to make friends with the process. Nice to know I'm not alone. Thank you!
February 11, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterMaryse

PostPost a New Comment

Enter your information below to add a new comment.
Author Email (optional):
Author URL (optional):
Post:
 
All HTML will be escaped. Hyperlinks will be created for URLs automatically.