Reflecting on my satisfaction with writing

I didn't post last week. I let myself off the hook because it was my birthday, and I had people to see and fun things to do. I watched several movies, and I ate nice food. I can't complain about how I spent the time. But I was also self-conscious about what I had written. I didn't feel like I was in a good place with my relationship to writing. I did keep the daily writing habit, but I hadn't kept up with a daily reflection journal (the writing I had been using as content for this blog.

My writing hasn't significantly changed in the past week, but I can at least say I'm in a healthier frame of mind. With that context, I'll share an excerpt from what I almost posted last week:

I know other writers get frustrated. I know other writers feel blocked, or feel like they're no good. I know, from the wide amount of reading, watching, and listening I've done, that the real thing is perseverance, the willingness to pick it all back up, day after day, and see what went wrong and how it might fit together better.

But boy do I feel angry with myself sometimes. I just wish I was better at this than I am.

I feel so scatterbrained. Since I began writing in my spare time, in 2020, I've started and stopped so, so many projects. Short stories and films, adaptations, stage plays, novels, features, series, epics. Name the format, and I've had at least one burst of creativity where I thought I had a real breakthrough on my hands. I'm not short on ideas. I keep a folder of little digital scrap-notes with ideas, and there's plenty to choose from.

My problem is that I have less than ten fully finished stories, in any format, and I have none that I would feel proud to show the world.

I know this is probably depressing to read. The main reason I started this blog was to make my writing journey the focus. There's a big part of me that feels this vehicle, which is essentially a public journal, is much too self-centered to be of use to anyone else. But I still think it's the sort of thing I'd like to read from someone else, even if it was just to recognize someone else experiencing the same problems as me.

Despite my hot-burning, head-banging hatred of writing, there is progress in terms of maintaining a habit. I knew my work (my day job that actually pays bills) was going to pick back up this past week, and that would likely mean less luxurious time for writing. I'd have to crunch my morning routine if I wanted to have any shot at fitting in a real writing block every morning. And I'd really have to rally, in terms of my energy, to fit in a second, short bout of writing or analysis after lunch. But I've managed to do it.

I think the main reason I've succeeded is precisely the idea I talked about testing in last week's post, a focus on the two-minute habit. It's telling myself, even when I'm tired and sleepy and don't want to do anything, that all I have to do is two minutes. Two simple minutes, and then I can check it off my little to-do list and pat myself on the back.

The secret is that the two minutes are often a trick, and once I do two minutes, I usually just say, "Well, I might as well keep at it for another thirty." But in the moment before, when I'm reluctant to begin the work, I can't feel like I'm lying to myself. If I think I have to do something for thirty minutes or an hour, that's when I might shirk the whole thing. So, in order to maintain the effectiveness of the trick, I sometimes have to prove to myself that it's true. I have to, once in a while, walk in the gym, do two pull-ups, and then leave.

Basically a waste of time, except that it's precisely what keeps me coming back to the gym the next day for a full session.

And, for now, it's the sort of thing that keeps me writing.

In an effort to get back in touch with what makes me feel interested and excited, I've mostly focused on writing fantasy-genre material for the last week. When it comes to the sort of stories and projects I devise, I often find myself torn in two directions: there's the part of me that loves movies and psychologically complex characters, that wants to build a career and earn the respect of my peers. Then, tugging at the other end, there's the kid in me that loves imagining new, exciting worlds, going on an adventure with friends, and overcoming obstacles to become a hero.

I'm not saying the fantasy genre is inherently childlike – I'm an adult who loves it. (And even if it were, I don't think there's anything wrong with being childlike.) But I say this comes from the kid in me because I've always loved fantasy. I fell in love with movies as a young adult, around the age of 18, and that love has only grown over time. But I've been the kid reading thick tomes at recess my whole life.

Anyway, these interests often feel at odds in my head. I'm not totally sure why. I'm aware fantasy movies exist. But I think I write in a different frame of mind when I'm pursuing a fantasy adventure. This mental conflict might run deeper than genre. I think one of the reasons I struggle to develop and finish stories is a struggle to balance what I find Cool or Fun and what I find Meaningful or Worthwhile.

I'm of the belief that stories always contain underlying meaning. Whether the author thinks about it or not. How a story presents a protagonist, how they change, what lessons they learn – there is always a moral belief or system undergirding the story that is told. Even if it's as simple as, "Might makes right," or "Be nice to other people."

Since I'm conscious of that belief, I'd like to write stories that convey some sort of meaning I support. I don't want to be overly didactic, or shove a moral down anyone's throat (we should all be aware that's a quick ticket for bad, overly reductive writing). But still, it's on my mind. And trying to achieve that, while also stretching my skills to develop people and places that I find inherently interesting... pushing myself to think of stuff that's new, that hasn't been overly done before... trying to learn good structure on the broad level, while also creating good sentences on the micro level... it's a lot to juggle. The self-placed stress can get to me.

I'm reminded of this (condensed) famous quote from Ira Glass, on the gap that many young artists feel between their taste and their talent:

All of us who do creative work… we get into it because we have good taste. But it’s like there’s a gap, that for the first couple years that you’re making stuff, what you’re making isn’t so good, OK? [...] It’s trying to be good, it has ambition to be good, but it’s not quite that good. But your taste — the thing that got you into the game — your taste is still killer, and your taste is good enough that you can tell that what you’re making is kind of a disappointment to you, you know what I mean? [...] And the most important possible thing you can do is do a lot of work — do a huge volume of work. [...] Because it’s only by actually going through a volume of work that you are actually going to catch up and close that gap. [...] It’s normal to take a while. And you just have to fight your way through that, okay?

I often remind myself that, because I have tall ambitions, it's going to take a while before I feel satisfied with my work. But there's a real downside to this, because in the meantime, I'm still living my life, right? And I don't want to feel unhappy all the time. Not with something that I spend a lot of time on. Not with something I derive a lot of meaning from. (It's not like I have a day job that makes me any happier.)

So. How do I find interest, motivation, and maybe even a little joy from this hard thing I do every day? Should I let go of the ambitions? Should I focus on the kind of writing that might impress the people around me in Los Angeles? Should I focus on the kind of writing that would please the nerdy kid in me?

I've been doing some reflecting, and I have more thoughts I'd like to share. But surprise, surprise, I once again find myself a day late to post and a dollar short on my polish. I'm going to publish these thoughts to the site, and pick up the thread again next week. I may shift to a weekly style of article that's more topical than self-analyzing all the time. All that's important is that I continue to experiment – I'm just trying to put one foot in front of the other.