but I'm really not.
At least not with my writing.
But my brain is being filled with wonderful tools to make my writing easier, more creative and more productive.
This week I read and enjoyed Merrilee's links on Fear and Perfectionism.
I most identified with Mary Anne Hahn's post:
Yes, Merrilee it is worth reading, even with the horrible red background.
"Little did I know that my perfectionism would also turn out to be the biggest roadblock to my writing dream for many years. Far from being a "wonderful" or "positive" character trait, it held me back, taunted me, scolded me, filled me with guilt, scoffed at my burning desire to be a writer. Without teachers to constantly stroke my ego and provide me with the encouragement I so needed, I floundered and procrastinated, struggled and avoided.
It took a long time for me to realize the real reason I wasn't writing. I blamed it on lack of discipline, or lack of time, or occasionally came to the conclusion that maybe I just wasn't meant to be a writer. Then I would stumble across an old story or essay I'd written, recognize the skill and talent there, recall the joy and fulfillment I'd found in the writing process, and give writing for publication another go. Yet nothing was ever perfect enough to submit"
It took a long time for me to realize the real reason I wasn't writing. I blamed it on lack of discipline, or lack of time, or occasionally came to the conclusion that maybe I just wasn't meant to be a writer. Then I would stumble across an old story or essay I'd written, recognize the skill and talent there, recall the joy and fulfillment I'd found in the writing process, and give writing for publication another go. Yet nothing was ever perfect enough to submit"
These are Mary Anne's words, but they quite eerily could be my own.
Of course, I also had the additional roadblock that with so many children to nurture and care for, how could I ever find the time to write? Looking back, that was just another excuse. I knew of others in like situation that found the time to write and to do it well enough to be published... and still mother their many children. (Editors Note: My husband adds... Yes but how well did they mother? How did their children turn out? Of course I can't say about their children, but I can mine... they all turned out wonderfully well, contributors to society, every one of the eight I was blessed with. And in the end, that is far better than any other work I could spend my life doing.)
♦ ♦ ♦
I must admit, I have actually been published... exactly once. It was my second submission. My first was denied. To my credit, I reworked the story and resubmitted a year later, and this time, my story was accepted. (I'd include a link to my story, but I'm quite sure no one is that interested.) I was given a check for $100. The date was December 20, 1992. I can still remember the thrill of seeing my story in print. I felt validated as a writer and I knew my college English professor would have been proud.
A whole lot of life has passed by since then and I have never since submitted a story for publication. "Nothing was ever perfect enough to submit."
This course is giving me the tools I need to write again and perhaps the courage to submit another story for publication. I could use another hundred bucks.
♦ ♦ ♦
I should also mention how much I enjoyed the Guest Post for this week:
From her words I have gleaned the following:
So what do you do in drought?
Go for walks.
Absorb and don’t try to produce.
When it’s ready, the well will be full again.
I seem to be doing a lot of that lately,
part of my quest to set my Muse free.
part of my quest to set my Muse free.