Nah, No WriMo Pour Moi

My dear friend, the brilliant Erin Shea Smith, grabbed something out of the ether for me today. Something I didn't even know I was trying to capture. She wrote about NaNoWriMo, a concept that always fills me with guilt, and brought it around to connecting with what's really important, using your words to express what's really important in your life.

I need to "do better" when it comes to that. I concur, also, that I need to re-grasp the discipline of dedicated writing, be it daily or weekly. I cowed myself into stopping, you know. A bit of self-imposed silence. I think the unintended pressure of attending a wonderful writer's conference nearly two years ago planted the seeds. At the time I was un-to-barely-employed, unfocused, and felt a fake and a failure when I entered that vibrant, electric atmosphere. Instead of taking the lessons to heart and running with them, I froze. It's easy to do. When our move became more and more likely, and then a sudden, rushing downhill movement, it was easy to just stop what little I was doing. Instead of limping along with one review a week, much less amusing myself, I've only done one review for someone, and haven't even put it up here yet. I turned the gas down on my creative pilot and just started letting things simmer, since "I can start again anytime I want." It's the reverse of what the smoker says, and just as easy to kick down the road for the giant commitment it represents.

Sometimes it's little bits of honesty. Frequently, it's something fun and silly. But to let the thoughts flit across the brainpan, free-range and then willfully forgotten, is a shameful thing. I realize I can "do better" at organizing myself, and expressing it. I've done it before. The intimidation of NaNoWriMo to someone who already feels guilt that they're not producing the words they want to say overwhelms like a brick wall. What I should be doing is taking it one brick at a time, and starting with the Lego-sized ones. I may not build a wall anytime soon, but it'd be nice to shake the rust off and figure out my voice again.

Can I do it every day, like Erin and all the valiant NaNolists promise? I'll try. I'll forgive myself if I fail, but I'll pick up and start again.