Just did my writing session. I think I’m over two weeks now of writing every day.
I LOVE IT.
My brain is starting to feel quieter now when I sit down to write. What a relief. I’m finally feeling clearer, not the panic attack from before…less pressure. And more ambition. I’m starting to feel that again.
It’s just worth it for me to sit down to write and have no expectations of what’s going to come out, no word count goals, and to just write and write and write until something magical happens. It’s so much more enjoyable. So much more connected to my imagination and my feelings. It comes out so much more real.
I can write fast.
I know this. But it starts with writing slow. I can write fast when I’m writing downhill; when there’s an end in sight and all the dominoes for that part of the story have already been set up. I can write fast when all I have to do is knock them down.
Again…I’m so glad that I’m working with J. I know he doesn’t read this, but I’m going to say it anyway…this is going to work. I know it is. I can feel it in my bones. And it’s costing me some real fucking money, but godamnit it’s going to be worth it. Me re-connecting with my writing mojo is going to earn back this money ten fold. A hundred fold. A thousand fold.
I’m not kidding.
It is.
And I’m so glad I finally reached out to do it.
On my bad days, I lament the wasted time. The wasted years. “Why didn’t I do this sooner?” I asked myself, beating myself up, feeling like a fool.
But not tonight. Tonight, I know that I wasn’t ready then. I am ready now…and that’s just something I have to accept. I’m happy to be here now, and that’s all that matters. It truly is. What’s done is done. What I am doing right now is the only thing that matters.
Night.