As I trudge along, writing the novel that I have been working on since at least the year 2000, no joke there, the thought “maybe you really don’t want to be a writer” came to me as I hit a block of text where I have no idea what to write.
The words aren’t vibing.
The scene feels stiff and inflexible and I kinda want to punch my main character in the face.
This 20+ year novel in the making is so close to being finished. So close! (15k words away)
For once, the ending is near. I can see it and feel it.
This novel has had so many incarnations, plot lines and characters but it’s always been there.
Always. No matter if I was working on it or not, the novel been in my head.
And as those words, “may you don’t want to be a writer” danced in my mind, for a moment, I thought maybe I don’t.
But who am I to kid?
I am a writer.
Through and through.
I need to write. There is no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Writing is my tether. My saviour.
Being a writer is who I am in my core.
The joy I get from creating is something nothing else has ever given me.
I’ve been a writer since I could hold a Crayon or pencil.
And I think this pseudo block is my internal dilemma of letting go of a project that is 20+ years in the making. It’s been with me for so long that I think part of me doesn’t know what to do without it. That “hello darkness, my old friend…” feeling. It’s always been there. Waiting in the shadows for me to return to it.
But I know exactly what I am going to do without it, I have 2 more novels to write that will tie in with it and 3 short stories sitting and waiting in my head.
So the fear of not having an idea is not why that part of me are scared to it let it go.
It’s just the fear of this old friend, this crutch not being there.
But it’s time. It’s time to prepare and say goodbye.
The WIP will be wrapped up soon and I’ll move on and continue to write and I know every now and then, I’ll always have that feeling “may I don’t want to be a writer” pop up and I know deep within my soul, those words will never be true.