I had every intention of writing an essay for my memoir today.
AND THEN I DIDN’T.
(Spoiler alert.)
Because I didn't know what to write about and I convinced myself that other work was more important and then a friend stopped by with something called hard seltzer and, as it turns out, hard seltzer has alcohol.
Now it's almost 5 p.m. and I haven't started my essay and there's hard seltzer and eggnog and a Christmas tree that needs ornaments hung in an attractive yet unstudied manner.
I'm officially in the No Man's Land of this memoir. Until this week, I had a list of stories to write and rough drafts to edit and the process had some momentum.
Now I'm in the messy middle, where I don't know what's next. Where I have to dig around in my stories and my emotions and pull out something honest and vulnerable and true and entertaining to read.
No pressure.
Precisely why I started a Patreon page for this book writing process. Because now I have to write an essay for next Friday. I can't let fear take over. I can't decide that it isn't important or it's too hard or let myself wallow in the "I don't know what to do" phase. I have to keep showing up. Because the fifteen people who are subscribed and supporting me in this process mean I can't put this project down for a month or a year or a decade.
It’s a blessing to have support. This may be the first time I’ve used the word “blessing” without sarcasm or irony. But I’m sincerely grateful to have people on the other side of this process who are helping me stay accountable to myself.
Writing about the ghosts of my past is challenging - and then you get to the actual ghosts my life story somehow contains. (I admit, there are more than I would have expected.) Not to mention all the other multi-dimensional weird that I’m trying to put into words.
I’m like Ebeneezer Scrooge over here. Only with more ghosts and less money.
So this week it didn’t happen, and that’s okay. Being gentle with myself through the artistic and creative process is essential. Man, I can be a real jerk to myself sometimes and that helps not at all.
Next week it will. Because it has to. There’s a certain grace in the “well, it just has to.”
In lieu of a book essay, here’s a festive picture of our cat, Sera. Please note her adorable paws.
