The first Wednesday of the month brings another Insecure Writer's Support Group Post.
I just finished a book I loved from start to finish. I've read around eight books this summer, and
I liked several quite a bit, but this was the first one that I did not
want to end but couldn't stop reading at the same time.
It wasn't a terribly complicated story—a very standard
contemporary YA (my favorite genre to read though I’m still struggling to write
it) with family drama, personal growth, and a little love. I don't even know if I can explain why it was
so much better than the others I've read this summer. Words, characters, plot. That's all it is right? So, why these words, why this plot, why these
characters?
When I finish a book like that, I tend to get a bit
contemplative. First, gosh, I love
books. There is nothing quite like
falling into a world someone else created and connecting with everyone in
it.
But then I think, "I could never write that so why bother?" (Have I said that before? Seems like it's a common theme in my mind) Or I try to figure out how to adapt my writing to be LIKE that writing which is sometimes like trying to bakery bagel into a toaster. It's a close fit, but you're bound to burn or break some part in the process. I just want to figure it out thought so I can give readers the same experience.
I know I talked about variety last month, and how being authentic is important, and this is along the same vein, but it's more about that magic. I think that for anything in life to move us the a good book moves me, we have to let go; we have to fall in. One of the reasons NaNoWriMo has always worked for me is that forces me to stop analyzing and just write. It puts me into the story more like a reader than a writer. Of course, that means much editing down the road.
It's not just a writing thing. My husband is a perfectionist, and he obsesses in advance of every project, so worried that he's going to get it wrong. He'll tell you that delays the process and gets him so worked up that he sometimes misses the forest for the trees as a result. Then, he's too frustrated with the things that don't go according to plan to enjoy a finished product. Even when everyone else sees the beauty.
In the end, passion doesn't lie in thinking about how to do something. It's in doing it.
In letting go. In falling.
Does reading inspire you or cripple you? Do you over think process? If there are non-writers reading, are there ways in which you get tripped up in the process of doing something about which you're passionate?
