[This is a word-for-word transcription of the video below]
I went to Church this morning and when I say, “Church” – we mean Beach. And I sat in my… I wanted to sit in my favorite pew, which is a bench but there was somebody sitting there. So I tried to enjoy it from a different space, but that didn’t work. And then, after a few minutes there, I walked on over and stood by the…closer to the railing. And I could hear the sermon from the ocean. It was beautiful.
I’m having a tough day. The past few days, questioning way too much. Over-thinking. Of course. That’s my whole jam, I guess. And…
My goal isn’t to be…I know a lot of people think the goal is to be…
[I should be filming it this way, but…I don’t know…I’m already doing it this way. So…it’s just easier to hold. I don’t have it on the mound right now so…]
The goal isn’t to be ecstatically happy every day. That’s not it.
But the goal is to progress. To move forward. And…
I feel like I moved forward and I just stepped back four miles. And I’m uneasy about it. And I’m just feeling… I’m not sad or happy — I’m just in that space…
I keep thinking of Chadwick Boseman. And I love that he said, “Take your time, but do not waste your time.”
I don’t think I’m wasting time. But I do need to figure this out.
My writings been fierce and furious. I wake up at 4:00am, coffee automatically percolating, and the only thing guiding my way through the dark is the smell of fresh brewed covfefe. Covfefe being the only funny contribution to our existence by the idiot man leading my country at the moment… but oh, I digress. I usually sit. Write and write some more.
Coffee. Coffee. Coffee.
It’s so early, the quietest time of the day, it’s sheer perfection. I hate this apartment complex I live in – everyone moves around too much, walks, breathes, lives and just mutherfucking annoys the hell out of my existence every single day. What I hate most about Covid? That all these “neighbors” are home. All. The. Time. I hate them I tell you, hate. Don’t they know I’m trying to write a masterpiece????
Alright, alright. Clearly, I need coffee.
Coffee brewed, coffee poured, soothing to my soul. The birds are even sleeping. It’s dark as all hell outside. But I know the sun will pierce through soon enough.
I open the front door.
Ugghhhhh.
I was expecting a breeze of cooler air, but no! It’s still. It’s the same temperature out there as in here. Damn it. It’s so muggy. WHY?
Breathe. That’s okay, my coffee smells amazing. Focus.
Yesterday had been a bad day. I read my written work for my next book – 5 chapters – and realized how god-awful it was…is. I mean is. It’s still awful today. I cried. 5 chapters in, I thought it would be brilliant. While I wrote them, I believed I was writing the next Alchemist, the next… something. But no. Hell to the no! Hell to the NO so badly, I’m writing this instead. THIS is better than all of that, and THIS, THIS is me rambling, venting…
But this is writing. This is the creative process. Those 5 chapters really do suck. They do. They’re NOT me. They’re ME pretending to be a writer who published a book who now needs to write a second one.
I think it just hit me. Today, for the first time, I realized I’m officially a real writer. I mean, I’m already an author, but today, reading this crap that I wrote, I think made me realize that a real writer would know it’s crap and start over. And Lord help me Jeezus, this stuff sucks! I’m “throwing it out” and starting over. And yaaaassss…. Before you ask, I can’t really throw it out cuz it’s not paper, but I’m just trashing it and starting from page one.
Yeah, today, I became a real writer. It’s freaking me out a little bit.
My first book was not intentional. After receiving a large bonus check from the company I worked for at the time, that basically amounted to more money than my mother had probably made her entire life, I realized I hadn’t gotten here on my own. I wanted to reach out to everyone who had helped me. The process started out as a series of letters to specific individuals I wanted to thank for helping raise me after my mom passed away. I posted one of these “letters” onto my website and after receiving much encouragement from friends and strangers, I went through the creative process of finding a way to weave a connective thread through all the letters. That’s how my first book Canela came into existence.
Now, I’m writing my second book. This time, it’s very intentional. The story continues on in the same vein, a “fictionalized memoir” – authentically true moments, captured in a chapter – spliced with other moments and/or characters to make a bigger point. But this time, it feels a harder. It IS a harder.
I’m still writing what I know and what I want to write, but my head now knows it’s for other “readers” or anyone who wants to read it. When I wrote Canela, each “chapter” was specifically a letter to one person. The entire book is me having a conversation with one person. Taking those letters and going back and weaving together all the stories to make them into chapters was actually the part I enjoyed most, even though it was the most difficult.
So, because I’m an “author” now and deemed a “real writer”, I’ve been studying and considering all the ways to go about writing this second book. You know, more professionally. More organized. Like a real writer would. The best way to do that is to learn from the masters, right? Read what they wrote, read all that I can about how to write, how to develop a story, how to create characters…
Damn, if I didn’t just get all messed up in my head real quick! Doubt set in almost immediately. I was waking up at night wondering, why am I even bothering? I never said I was a writer! I’m a friggin’ dancer. A performer. A goddamn financial adviser on my worst days. Writing? When did I start writing “professionally”? I already wrote one book. I can tick that off my stupid-ass bucket list, which seems to have things on it I never wanted to accomplish! “Author” wasn’t even ON my bucket list – so yeah, I’m done! WTF? Why am I putting myself through this again? I’m not a writer. I can’t do this anymore…
I’m gonna go off on a tangent here but there’s a point. I got hung up on these four male characters. Real men in my life at one point or another – honestly, it’s not even really about them per se, but about my ability to write and portray them “correctly”. The problem of course, is that while I’m writing, I’m learning about my own “isms” and it’s becoming emotional. There’s so much self-analysis in the process. This is part of what I’ve been contemplating: the thing that makes a person (character) attractive visually is not the same thing that makes a person (character) attractive for real.
What does that mean exactly?
Well, we all know someone who is physically stunning, but the minute they open their mouth or a crisis appears, they reveal their true colors and somehow all that “beauty” you thought they had disappears instantaneously. That’s easy. But how do I write that for each individual person (character) in the scene/situation? To make it even more annoying, as I’m clearly over-thinking this writing process, I realize I’ve dated some major assholes in my life – regardless of how “pretty” they may have been! Since I’m the common denominator in all my relationships, clearly that says more about me than it does about them, right… Ugghh! But I digress!
And down the rabbit hole we go…
I got so hung up on “character development” that I ended up over-analyzing who these men were that I honestly just couldn’t write. It was emotionally draining. I just had to put the pen down.
There’s a lot going in our world for sure, but this wasn’t about that. I got stuck. I got sad. I then reinforced the idea that I wasn’t a writer anyways, because look – I can’t even figure this out. So, see? Why. Am. I. Bothering. With.This?
Then, there are signs. Whether you believe in it or not, when you’re least expecting it, even if you’re not hoping for it – you get knocked upside the head with an idea, with a solution, or just a reminder.
Jonathan Capehart, an American journalist for the Washington Post and also an MSNBC contributor, posted his latest podcast on Twitter that featured the magnificent Billy Porter. Let me be clear: I don’t listen to podcasts EVER. I am the ONE person on the planet who does not enjoy listening when I can watch or better yet, when I can read. I don’t know what it is, but whenever I try and listen to a podcast my mind wanders and I’m off doing something else. I really have tried. I hate that I don’t enjoy them. It’s just not my thing. Until yesterday.
I’m not a crazed fan of Jonathan Capehart’s or of Billy Porter – both of these men are just fabulous at what they do and I have much respect. And for whatever reason, (SIGN. SIGN. SIGN.) I clicked on the link, thinking it was a written article by Mr. Capehart and when I realized it was a podcast, just listened to it.
In 30 minutes, I changed my whole perspective on writing my book. Again, the podcast is not about writing at all. Honestly, it’s just a wonderful interview with Billy Porter. But Billy Porter said more than a few things that just rang true to my soul – the most impact to my creative heart was this:
“Your authenticity is your service…lean into that…”
My authenticity. It’s not only good enough, it’s needed! How I write a book, how I go about the process, however I choose to make it fit, is exactly what I’m here on the planet to do. I don’t need to be like anyone else. I don’t need to write like anyone else. I can’t. I’ll be unhappy. I’ll surely fail. But if I want to be of real service to the world, to my community, to myself, then I need to be authentically me. That means being okay with HOW I write and how I go about the process of writing, creating, producing whatever it is.
I am a writer. I’ve written for as long as I can remember. It has been my therapy, my best friend, my sounding board, my comfort. Writing is part of who I am. Just like being a performer, a dancer, an actor, will always be the best parts of me. It doesn’t matter the level of money I’ve received for my service, what matters is that being authentically me and sharing THAT with the world is my contribution. My talent, my greatness doesn’t lie in how I copy someone else’s work, but instead how I learn all that I can to be my best self and share all of me as best I can.
As far as writing those four beautiful men into fully developed characters…well, I was able to flesh out much more easily their entire ethos once I stopped trying to write like everyone else. Once I stopped beating myself up for being and writing like ME.
I’ve got so much work to do. I honestly didn’t intend to write this much today, but at least now I can share this with the #AuthorToolboxBlogHop. That makes me happy. For anyone reading this who doesn’t know about this Group, please click on the link and check it out. If you are a writer – this may be a great group for you to be a part of.
In the meantime, if you did listen to the Jonathan’s podcast, you’ll know he made reference to this clip. Oh, what joy! I really am all about the JOY. And if you don’t know who Billy Porter is, find out – but also, watch this and enjoy true talent. This really is a beautiful soul creating authentically some fierce JOY. What an artist!
6. Have you ever been to a professional sports event? – I’m originally from Boston. It’s mandated for every child born in the state.
7. What is the last thing you said out loud? – “Oh my God! You’re a f*cking Moron!” Screaming at TV watching “someone” doing a press conference.
8. What is your favorite ice cream? – I don’t eat dairy anymore. But it used to be chocolate chip!
9. What was the last thing you had to drink? – Water
10. Do you like your wallet? – I get compliments ALL THE TIME. It’s very unique.
11. What was the last thing you ate? – Spinach Salad w/Chicken
12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? – No.
13. The last sporting event you watched? – NBA Championship 2019 😦
14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn? -Popcorn is not my jam, so just regular, I guess. At the movies, sharing it with someone.
15. Who is the last person you sent a text message to? – My friend Mia
16. Ever go camping? – Yes!
17. Do you take vitamins? – No.
18. Do you go to church every Sunday? – If you mean the beach, then yes. I go three times a week at least.
19. Do you have a tan? – Born this way. Don’t be hatin’.
20. Do you prefer Chinese food over pizza? – I prefer Chocolate Cake above all else. But sure, Chinese food, if you mean American Chinese food over pizza wins every time.
21. Do you drink your soda with a straw? – No.
22. What color socks do you usually wear? – depends on the outfit. Prefer NO socks.
23. Do you ever drive above the speed limit? – Not on purpose.
24. What terrifies me? – The pain I see in others that I cannot fix or help them with.
26. What chore do you hate? – Doing my own bookkeeping.
27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? – Hot men? My friend Andrea and I were just talking about how men with accents trump all other “must have’s” in men. Hahahaha!
28. What’s your favorite soda? – Root beer
29. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? – Drive thru.
30. What is your favorite number? – 12
31. Who’s the last person you talked to? – Beata
32. Favorite cut of beef? – New York steak, short loin
33. Last song you listened to? – “River” Bishop Briggs
34. Last book you read? – “The Alchemist” again.
35. Favorite day of the week? – Saturday morning
36. Can you say the alphabet backwards? – Yes. (the trick: write it down first.)
37. How do you like your coffee? – with Almond creamer
As I’m writing this piece, I’m in the middle of a 30 day challenge I created for myself.
The idea was rather simple: could I find a way to write — actually physically type — on my laptop some of my thoughts from my morning journal? See, I write — hand write — every day in a journal. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid. And I keep those journals, which are black hardcover bound sketchbooks, and that’s how I came to write my first book. It wasn’t my intention but it was time to shred all of those sketchbooks I had in storage. So many boxes and taking up too much space so one day, I started randomly going through them. Some, if not most it, felt like junky writing — because, let’s face it — that’s what journaling is all about, writing anything and everything. But then I found these pieces. These moments in time. Scenes that made sense. They were heart-warming and poignant. The book Canela formed almost instantaneously.
I shredded about 25 boxes of journals.
For whatever reason, habit really, when I wake in the morning, I have to write. And sometimes that stuff is so good! And I keep thinking, “If I could just write like THIS on my blog, maybe other people would enjoy this or have feedback or help me with ideas…” or whatever. The point is, I always want to share parts of my journaling but I can’t. I just can’t.
And I had to ask myself why?
The biggest reason is because once I know I’m writing for someone else to read, OTHER than myself, my hand-writing changes. The other problem is that something’s lost in the translation. I write in English, so it’s not a language thing. But if I start typing out what I wrote by hand to put it up on my blog, I start editing, I start “fixing” sentences and hell, it just becomes such chore.
So, I wanted to see if I could change my habit and/or just challenge myself. I decided to try and share my thoughts with my blogging friends but instead of sharing my morning journal-therapy session with everyone, why not instead try to share something else? Why not type directly in WordPress at the END OF DAY and see if that churns up any decent thoughts.
I didn’t want to put too many guard rails on it. I wanted to feel like I could write about absolutely anything at all. One thing I do before I go to bed anyways is a recap of my day. It’s not a writing thing, just a thinking thing. I never to go to bed angry, so I always try and find something joyful to pull from my day to remind myself that no matter what’s happened, that the day had a piece of joy in it, worth remembering (actually this works, everyone should try it!).
So why am I telling you all of this? Because I think I’ve grown as a writer these past 15 days. I’m half way through my personal writing challenge as I’m writing for this #AuthorToolboxBlogHop and I’ve changed. How? Well, in the simplest way, I’ve been able to write more easily using the keyboard verses a pen. Clearly that’s a ME “growth” thing and most people probably don’t have this issue. But my morning journal is still my therapy, my private ramblings, but my evening writing has been this newfound voice and joy… That’s the second way I’ve grown as a writer! There’s a freedom in my writing that I hadn’t felt before this challenge. I’m excited, in a different way, to share. I still have the second half of the month to go — so who knows what else I’ll learn, but I do know this: it was a great idea to just challenge MYSELF instead of jumping on some other formal “competition” or “writing program” or another blog hop (I love this blog hop, I’m just saying).
Challenging yourself to something different in how you write just changes things up a bit. It’s like a refresh button. Or maybe a reSET button? I once challenged myself to only write a paragraph every day for a week after blindly picking a random word from a dictionary I had on my bookshelf. That was so hard! I remember being baffled by it. Most of the time I didn’t really understand the word’s meaning I picked. Ha! But it was a good challenge to change things up a bit. I’ve also done the normal kind of challenges where you try to write from a different perspective or tried different types of writing… I attempted to write poetry once. Uhem, so not my thing!
My point is simply this: Do something to challenge yourself. Stretch those writing muscles! Do it for a couple of days, a week or a month. But if you’re needing a little “pick-me-up” and/or you’re feeling like you could use a little change of pace to brighten up that old trusty writer’s brain or you suffer from that age old term, “writer’s block”, then give it a try. Try a little challenge of your own. Oh, and if you do, please share!
