"You don't have anything interesting to say. You're not poignant. Nothing you have to say is anything new nor anything anyone wants to waste their time reading."
Yeah. This is where I've been.
But let's substitute the word you with the word I because those were the pronouns I was hearing any time I considered writing a new blog post over the last eight months.
Not sure if you keep up with the news around the world or not, but over here in China we hit a bit of a prolonged snag with a little thing called Covid. While the rest of the world was in the process of moving on, the powers that be here in my host country (a country I love very much , by the way) took a wildly different approach. This blog isn't about the pros and cons of that policy, a myriad of voices will have a myriad of opinions about it. All I know is my doubting voice grew in power in the midst of the last round of citywide lockdowns and I listened longer than the lockdowns lasted. I often considered writing a new post, but the voice would look up from its greasy bag of chips and convince me not to.
That being said, I was writing. Over the summer I found a lovely little coffee shop down the road from my new place downtown (I LIVE DOWNTOWN NOW) and I wrote almost daily over the summer. Predictably, the school year came along and my habit slowed down considerably as the daily routine of working for a living (yuck) kicked in, but when NaNoWriMo hit in November, I took the challenge and finished off the rough draft of the new novel I'd been working on. And damn it, I really love it. I can't wait for you all to meet Aaron Gloria Delfus, his moms, and Arbortown, Oregon.
But, oy! Rough drafts are a bitch for me. I can't tell you how many times I doubt myself as I slog through the process. Huh, there's a pattern here. Doubt. "This sucks. No one is going to want to read this. Why am I wasting my time with it?" But unlike the blog, I managed to push my way past Doubt and his potato chip crumbed up t-shirt to the glory of rewrites. I love rewrites. Voice comes alive, elements connect, elements are scrapped, moments are fleshed out, the story comes to life. Rewrites are the lighthouse to my choppy rough draft sea. If I can just keep my sights set on the relief and fun I know I'll find in the rewrites process, I can weather the storm of the first draft.
And I'm here. I'm now starting the second round of rewrites and I fall ever deeper in love with the story and characters. I think I'll share an excerpt soon. Sound good?
All of this to say, I'm back on the blog. Got my ADHD meds (that's been an eyeopening trip deserving its own post), learning to listen to the Self and not the Ego, hearing the Divine and transcribing what they have to say (thank you Steven Pressfield and Put Your Ass Where Your Heart Wants To Be for the reminder), in the process of hiring an author assistant to help me with the life-suck shit of the writing gig, and all the while enjoying life in Shanghai.
Out of curiosity, how do you make it past your chip munching Doubt voice?
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