My greatest writing challenge. Hmm. How much time do you have? I've been through a list in my head. I thought about saying 'drafting' which is true, but it's a symptom. Not the root cause. Okay. So then I thought about claiming that carving time out to write was my greatest challenge but that leads to the fact that I'm stupidly slow to write. Which again, is a symptom, not the root cause. All of these lead back to one single factor and that's me. I'm the problem.
My brain is addicted to getting it right. No. I don't know what 'it' is. But my brain is wired to believe that there's a Right and a Wrong way to put a story together. Can we all agree there are a million ways to tell the same story and none of them is wrong or right? Can we tell my brain? My head believes I'm a terrible person and will be haunted for the rest of my life if I get my story wrong. I wrote all that and I know it's not a rational way to live life. But there it is. My single greatest writing challenge: spending an hour over a single paragraph trying to get the words and the feeling of it just right.
To top this nonsense off, I add in a day job, a house perpetually full of too many people, and a deeply introverted nature that gets zero true alone time. It's a recipe for a great big mess. Which is an apt description of the situation.
It did take some time for me to realize that writing requires me to unmask. I can't give over brain space to characters and conflict and still maintain a pleasant expression. Can't do it. I need to be able to be completely unmask the autism while I write and the utter lack of expression (or what gets taken as a mean expression) makes the fam SUPER uncomfortable.
I almost highlighted and deleted this whole blog post because my brain is telling me that this isn't what anyone wanted to know or read. I should just write a light, surface piece about how I find drafting to be difficult and what steps I take to work through it. I'm resisting that voice. Maybe what I'm posting is wrong. Or dull. Or too random or whiny or whatever else these synapses and electrical currents are trying to get me to buy. Fine. I'll be all those things.
To address the situation, I'm building fences around writing time - time when I can close and lock a door and everyone else can adult while I write. The next step is to close out distractions - for one hour of writing time, I have the work computer on, too, and that is not at all an ideal situation. That needs to be handled. I've made a bargain with myself to free write scenes a couple of different ways so I can pick the bits that hit just right from all of them. It's still slow - but it's faster than agonizing word by word and sentence by sentence. I'm slowly working for speed again. It'll take a bit before I actually talk about speed but at least there's a plan and a framework. I'm also working on allowing myself to feel my way through a scene rather than worrying about how it sounds. I have a long term goal of kicking the day job to the curb. It's barely a shine of a rising star on the horizon, but it is there. Step by step. Word by word. I'm following that star.
