***I DON’T NEED AN OUT***
While it is true that there’s no age limit for success in
the world of writing, some days it can feel like you’re running out of time.
Maybe it’s been a while since your last session. Maybe real life got in the way
of what you love the most. Maybe the burnout bug bit you a little too hard on
the ass. Whatever the case may be, the longer you delay your project, the more
pressure you feel to get it done. You don’t necessarily want an out. You’re
trying desperately to find an in. And yet, procrastination takes over anyways.
You’ve been locked out of heaven and you’re desperately banging on the gates to
get back in. I’ve been there. You’ve been there. Anybody who’s ever picked up a
pen or pounded on a keyboard has been there.
It wasn’t always this way, but I’m definitely a
procrastinator whether I want to admit it or not. From third grade all the way
to eighth, it used to be that I’d do my homework right when I got home from
school and not a moment later. I turned in my assignments on time and got the
good grades I wanted (mostly). And then starting in my freshman year of high
school when the bullying was at its worst, I waited until nightfall to start my
homework assignments. I purposefully delayed my work because I was afraid the
PTSD would interrupt me and cause me to fuck up. While I eventually overcame
the bullying and mental trauma, the habit of delaying my schoolwork stayed with
me until I graduated from college in 2009. It could have been the onset of
schizophrenia that kept the habit alive, but it follows me well into the prime
of my writing career.
Whether I consciously or subconsciously do it, I keep
looking for an out from my creative duties. I don’t want to look for an out. I
don’t need to. I’d love to storm the gates of heaven and climb over the top.
But some days, I can’t tell if I’m legitimately too exhausted to work or if I’m
looking for an out. Maybe the reason I keep looking for an out is because I’m
afraid of being interrupted by what the fuck goes on inside my head. While it’s
a terrible idea to write while mentally slogged, I agree, it has gotten in the
way of progress and as a result I feel awful about doing nothing for the rest
of the day. Yes, lots of good writers procrastinate and proudly so, but this is
a habit I don’t want. I’d love to quell my anxieties before knowing for sure if
I’m tired, but it hasn’t happened yet and here we are.
When I get right down to it, there’s really nothing to be
afraid of other than being afraid of shit. When I edit a long-term project,
there’s nothing to fear because my beta readers and editors are friendly people
who give wise critiques. When I write a short story or novel chapter, there’s
nothing to fear because I’m getting in my practice and keeping my skills sharp,
first draft or not. When I’m writing a review, again, not much to be afraid of
because I’ve already rehearsed all of my talking points in my head and I’m
ready to go well in advance. I don’t want to use the tired old phrase “it’s all
in my head”, but there really is no reason for all of this fear. If I fuck up
badly, so what? That’s the beauty of writing: you don’t have to get it right
the first time, unlike a brain surgeon or a police officer.
Back in 2017, Texas
rock band Nothing More released an album called “The Stories We Tell Ourselves”
and it has many dialogue tracks in between their original songs. One of those
dialogue tracks is from philosopher Alan Watts and he describes how the only
way to master fear is to allow yourself to be afraid. When you’re constantly
fighting fear, you’re only setting up a vicious cycle of being afraid of fear
and being afraid of being afraid of fear. When you relax your defenses, you
realize you’ve got nothing to defend and there’s no reason to fight in the
first place.
I practiced Alan Watts’s mantra many times on the nights
before I attended a rock concert. There was always the lingering fear of
something bad happening at the show or transportation to and from the show
being stressful as hell. I allowed myself to be afraid. I let the anxiety wash
over me and it worked. I mastered my own fear. Can this method be applied to my
writing? If I try hard enough, I suppose. The next time I feel anxious about
being critiqued or whatnot, I’m just going to let it happen. Let the fear do
its thing and then sort out the logic later. Will I stop procrastinating? Maybe
not, but at least acknowledging my own fear will feel better for me in the long
run than undeserved guilt.
I’m not saying that Alan Watts’s mantra or my own life
experiences will work for everybody else. There is no one-size-fits-all
solution when it comes to psychology because everybody is different and
everybody has their own set of obstacles. My obstacles are schizophrenia,
burnout, and the anxiety that comes with both of those things. Being aware of
your own mind and your own circumstances will come a long way, though. Once you
know what the problem is, you can relax long enough to find a solution that
works for you and you alone.
Try it. If it doesn’t work, try something else. Stay curious
and keep looking for answers. Don’t look so hard for answers that you add to
your anxieties. We can do this. We can overcome procrastination together. Or if
procrastination is what you naturally do and it doesn’t interrupt your work
schedule, it may not be a problem to begin with. Like I said, no
one-size-fits-all solution. I’m Garrison Kelly! Until next time, try to enjoy
the daylight!
***BEAUTIFUL MONSTER***
After twenty days of wrestling with procrastination and
self-doubt, chapters seven and eight have been revised. Chapter nine will have
to be rewritten entirely to accommodate for Tarja Rikkinen’s suggested
character changes. Instead of being a Mary-Sue who talks like a therapist and
fights like a goddess, she’ll crack jokes at inappropriate times as a way to
mask her own trauma and then feel internally guilty afterwards. Also, there’s
got to be some reason why Shelly Atwood’s voice keeps appearing in her mind,
right? After all, those two characters look similar to each other. Hmm….
***FACE BOOK POST OF THE DAY***
As much as I love Final Fantasy VII, they fucked up badly
when they named one of Cloud Strife’s swords the Hard Edge. It’s a weapon that
can be stolen from one of Shinra’s soldiers. But instead of saying that, my
brother’s girlfriend at the time named Angela told me to, “Make them give you a
Hard Edge”. I was only fifteen years old at the time, but I laughed like
someone a fraction of my age when she said that. Those jokes just write
themselves.
