Writing and Commitment

 I've learned a lot about myself in these past months and in the process I also learned a lot about my writing process. I had somewhat of an existential crisis at the end of last year when after a two-year struggle I finally produced a rough draft for my novel Selkie's Magick, the draft sucked, no false humility, no fishing for compliments, just plain unvarnished truth. Seriously it was hideous.  It was lazy and rushed (after two full years of struggling, really what have I been doing?)

The next two drafts were not much better, it pains me to say it but it is true. Like Amy March in Little Women, I was forced to face the cold, hard reality that, while I may have some talent I'm unlikely to ever be great.

So now what? As I saw it I had two choices. I could quit and oh that was tempting, so very, very tempting or, and this was the much less appealing option, I could go back to the manuscript and see if anything could be salvaged at all.  But first I had to have a frank discussion with myself to find out whether I even still wanted to write because if my heart's truly not in this anymore, why bother going through all this hard work? (And it is hard work, make no mistake).

After some serious introspection and one heck of an inspirational movie, I realized that, yes despite how hard it can be at times, writing is what I love to do. If my books are my children then writing is my 'husband', I suppose. As with any marriage the spark, the enjoyment, can go out of your craft and then it takes discipline and commitment to stick with your craft and whatever project you are working on at the time. It is all too easy during periods of writer's block to jump from idea to idea and project to project, never fully committing to or finishing a single project.

So after much thought, I recommitted to Ballynar and now begins the work. This past week I  took my manuscript and got stuck in with the metaphorical pruners. The rough draft of the manuscript had a total of close to 60 000 words, which looking at it now is not much, a novel like mine needs at least 80 000 - 100 000 words to be properly fleshed out, so that rough draft was always below par.

After the pruning this week I have 28 500 words and I feel strangely hopeful because now I have somewhere to go and those 28 500 words are good words, words true to the spirit of the story, they are a strong foundation to build on.

I also realized that if I want this manuscript to actually become a novel, I'd have to go back to basics. Which means I have to commit to one idea at a time and give that idea my all. I know some writers who can tackle two or three, story ideas at a time, but that's not me.

To build a realistic world for readers to get lost in, I as the writer and creator of that world need to be all in or not at all. It just doesn't work any other way as these past two years have shown me. Writing is a craft and whether you're great or simply somewhat good, that craft takes commitment and work. It also takes enjoyment, for me at least. I cannot write without that final ingredient.

I'm enjoying writing again, really enjoying it for the first time in years. It's nice to travel in my imagination again and to feel Ballynar come alive once more. It's nice to dance on an Irish beach in the moonlight and it feels so good to have my focus back.

Wild Woman Dancing

Wild woman, free, unfettered, dancing
reveling in the soft sea breeze on her skin
waves crashing upon the rocks,
bare feet sink into soft, white sand, hair blowing in the wind

Reveling in the soft sea breeze on her skin
Her spirit is a flame her soul is free
bare feet sink into soft, white sand, hair blowing in the wind
Twirling, swaying she laughs at the moon

Her spirit is a flame her soul is free
waves crashing upon the rocks
Twirling, swaying she laughs at the moon
Wild woman, free, unfettered, dancing

Until Next Time

Kind Regards

Freeda Moon