Writing is, and always will be, an undertaking. Like this cicada breaking out of its old skin, completing a first draft releases an amazing sense of completion like a rush of endorphins. Typing "The End" leaves me excited for the future, antsy to get editing, and...
...makes me feel vulnerable.
Also like this cicada, I've spent a large sum of time and energy incubating. Stewing over characters and subplots, scenes and emotions. Finally, I'm bringing a new draft into the world—a story that didn't exist before. Doubt creeps in like ants through tiny gaps in my joy.
What if it's no good?
What if I read the draft later, and it's so much of a wreck, I can't make sense of it?
What if I've misrepresented cultures or ideas?
Or, my favorite...
What if I read another book and find that I've accidentally plagiarized half or more of my novel?
These doubts and fears are normal. Expected. A company releasing a new product doesn't know how the public will receive it. Beta tests can uncover a host of issues, but not all of them. New parents have no idea if they're prepared to care for their infant. They've (hopefully) taken classes, read books, and sought advice from parents who have raised their children well, but nothing prepares them for the host of challenges a newborn presents. Once something or someone new enters the world, a plethora of unknowns marches behind.
But limitless potential exists in new creations.
With that new draft, maybe I've written a future bestseller or a story that will link me to another critique partner. I may even decide to keep it for myself. No matter what I choose, I finished something. I took all my creative energy and stuffed it into hours upon on hours of planning, writing, second-guessing, and perseverance.
That's worth celebrating.
Even if the result is a dang mess, I can rework it. I have the power to shift, rearrange, cut, overhaul, and brainstorm until my story makes sense.
But first, it's important to stop and celebrate. Rest. Recuperate those creative muscles. It can be tricky to do, especially when you struggle with perfectionism like I do. These steps may help.
Close the file
Call it "finished for now" even when your instincts tell you to "fix it now"
Allow yourself to feel good about what you've done
Read a book of the same/similar genre in which you wrote
Start outlining a new project
Try another creative outlet like cooking, drawing, or decorating
Try something new entirely, even if it's just going to a new restaurant
Keep the file closed for about 2 months
The goal here is allowing yourself to acknowledge your accomplishment. The world keeps pushing for more. More achievements, more productivity, more efficiency. It's a load of poo. Slow down and bask in the progress you've made. Because of you, something new exists—something with endless potential.
We all need rest. Let nothing rob us of our sense of accomplishment, no matter how small. Before you ask "what's next?", try reflecting. Look back on what you've done and let it be enough. It's difficult, but the trick is tuning out the world for a while.
I'm writing the last scene to complete the first draft of my tenth novel. What a milestone! While I still feel the pressure of having loads of work to do with revisions, I'm going to set the draft aside and revel in that feeling.
I did it again. I wrote an entire new novel, one that never would have existed without me. Using my God-given talent, I may have written a book that will touch people, make them laugh, or possibly make them cry. No matter what the future holds, to God be the glory.
Keep on smilin'!
Comentarios