I have lists and pages and books of writing. Lots of it is personal. Most of it involves incomplete or short sentences, perhaps some run-on sentences or paragraph breaks in the wrong places. Sometimes I ramble. Sometimes I reread what I wrote and think, that sucks you should delete it. But I don’t allow myself to. Deleting my not-so-great-writing would be erasing that part of the process.
Writing is a beautiful journey, but that doesn’t mean the view is always breathtaking. I like to think about writing as a train ride. Sometimes it’s rough, you go back and forth and there’s times when you’re inside a pitch black tunnel. Sometimes there’s unexpected stops or the track you’re on veers off into a new direction. You can come around a corner and witness a postcard worthy landscape. There could be words amongst pages that are really brilliant. Maybe you bought a ticket and know your destination. Myself? I’m more of a writing train hobo.
I don’t have a specific place I’m headed toward, I just want to keep moving forward. I get off one train, hop on another, write on one subject, then take a hard right in a completely new direction. I stop and start and take a nap and then hop on a different car in a new direction. I dream about publishing a book someday.
The act of writing for me is so freeing. It is one of the only times I feel like I am doing what I should be in that exact moment. A flood of words pours out through my fingers clacking along a keyboard. I reread it, I’m not sure if my words even make sense so I just keep writing. Until now, (sans college profs, a few close friends and my mother) I’m the only one who has read my words.
One of my biggest fears is sharing my work with other creatives. Thoughts fly through my head like ‘I will be exposed as a fraud. Other designers/writers/artists will purse their lips and scoff at my work, then smile and fake that they like it, then run and tell everyone how lame I am.’ But I know that I am probably far more critical than anyone who might read this post. And if I’m not, I’ll likely never know anyway and that’s not even the point. This is what matters to me, in some small way through sharing my writing I might inspire some thought or foster some sort of connection with someone. Most importantly though, I’m facing one of my fears and finally sharing my writing, just as it is.
Liked this post? Follow this blog to get more.