Amy Tanner's Blog - Posts Tagged "procrastination"
Big Magic = Big Realization
Big Magic made me weep this morning. A book about creativity that I was afraid to read, and now I’m afraid to finish it. I’ve never thought about inspiration & ideas as having an expiration date. Elizabeth Gilbert illustrates what happened to her when she put off working on an enticing new project for too long—it went and found someone else.
It’s been two years since I finished my first novel, and I know what’s going to happen (mostly) in the second. I have the plot mapped out, fun scenes (which is where I love to start writing) transcribed, and the rest is in my head and in the ethers, waiting. Patiently. At least it has been waiting patiently, until now. I wasn’t afraid for my project until I started reading Big Magic. Then I got scared. I told my book: “I’m sorry! I’ve been so busy! Look! I’m creating a life where we can spend huge swaths of time together, like we used to….remember writing all through the night, eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and writing in ecstasy for days, until I had to go back to work?” That was my excuse. ‘I need HUUUGE swaths of time to write…to immerse myself….to lose myself in this universe. Otherwise, I can’t do it. I just can’t.’ What a cop out. It takes other writers to gently take me by the shoulders, stare into my eyes, and shake me. “Wake up! Deal with the cards you’ve been given. You’ve been given some pretty good cards. Use them. Stop making excuses and get back to work.” So this is what I’m going to do: stop making excuses and get to work.
I read through much of what I’d already written about this next book last night, before I got too tired to keep my eyes open. The thrill is still there. And if I write one page a day for a year, I get 365 pages. Two years ago that would have made me want to shoot myself. Today, after not writing for two years, it feels like progress. And progress is better than perfect.
It’s been two years since I finished my first novel, and I know what’s going to happen (mostly) in the second. I have the plot mapped out, fun scenes (which is where I love to start writing) transcribed, and the rest is in my head and in the ethers, waiting. Patiently. At least it has been waiting patiently, until now. I wasn’t afraid for my project until I started reading Big Magic. Then I got scared. I told my book: “I’m sorry! I’ve been so busy! Look! I’m creating a life where we can spend huge swaths of time together, like we used to….remember writing all through the night, eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and writing in ecstasy for days, until I had to go back to work?” That was my excuse. ‘I need HUUUGE swaths of time to write…to immerse myself….to lose myself in this universe. Otherwise, I can’t do it. I just can’t.’ What a cop out. It takes other writers to gently take me by the shoulders, stare into my eyes, and shake me. “Wake up! Deal with the cards you’ve been given. You’ve been given some pretty good cards. Use them. Stop making excuses and get back to work.” So this is what I’m going to do: stop making excuses and get to work.
I read through much of what I’d already written about this next book last night, before I got too tired to keep my eyes open. The thrill is still there. And if I write one page a day for a year, I get 365 pages. Two years ago that would have made me want to shoot myself. Today, after not writing for two years, it feels like progress. And progress is better than perfect.
