Writing Diaries: Being Vulnerable Even When It's Hard
I'd Rather Be Authentically Messy Than Fake Polished
This post is one I kind of procrastinated writing because I feel like I’ve just documented so many failures lately, mentally or even here on my Substack.
I’ve been working on a book, which hasn’t been a secret. And this has finally broken the slump I’ve been in when it comes to my writing. I feel like I’ve finally unlocked the depths of what makes me want to write.
But I’ve also fallen once more from that high. At about 25k words, I realize that I am writing what feels like a sequel to something that doesn’t exist. In other words, I haven’t developed the beginning. I’ve thrown my characters in with chemistry that shouldn’t exist so early, no build up, and so much romantic tension you could cut it with a knife.
This has been my constant problem.
I want to get to the good part. The part where everything is well-developed and everyone has their place. The part after the beginnings where nothing is really where it needs to be. I want relationships and friendships to exist. I want to sit in a world that’s already figured out.
I’ve lost the art of working for that connection to the project. I’ve neglected the part that comes before the settling in. The part where the characters don’t know who they are or maybe think they know who they are, but all they believe are lies that have crumble apart to break them. So they can rise from the ashes of the ruins and become what they were always meant to be.
I’ve lost the plot, quite literally.
I missed the comfort of writing, so I rushed into writing something that could easily fit a sequel, but the unfortunate part is that the first book doesn’t exist if this is a sequel.
This realization broke me.
And I looked at my laptop and almost decided to give up. With so many failed and false starts, it’s easy to feel like I’ve been an imposter the whole time. Cosplaying as an author and a writer when really I am nothing.
The imposter syndrome hit me bad that I wanted to give up on this thing that gives me the wind beneath my metaphorical wings.
Crashing and burning is never fun, but if you are a creative, you know it’s pretty much 75% of the process to creating something.
I care so much about this passion, but I also know I have to really step back and figure out what I’m trying to accomplish.
That’s when I realized all the self-imposed boxes are never going to get me anywhere. I have tried hard to stick to a theme, to a genre, to a concept, and idea, a plot.
I’ve tried outlining, plotting in detail, loose plots, no plots, and everything in between. And I keep falling down.
It’s hard because when you keep falling down, it almost feels a bit pointless to keep getting back up. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. But what are writers if not a little insane?
I know deep in my bones, this is what I was meant to do. I long for the moments I get to sit here and write out the words that my heart is singing to me. I’m not myself when I’m stuck and blocked and without words.
And I keep putting myself out there, out here, on social media and Substack, talking about how I’m writing again, and then here I come back a few weeks later, talking about failure.
But this is part of the process of creating.
There are so many failures. Social media can make it seem like other authors and writers have it all together. And for the more seasoned ones, I’m sure they do.
For me, I wanted to have a manuscript by the end of March. I wanted to build something great.
And I know I will get there.
I’m not going to talk yet about what I am pivoting towards working on. Despite the need to be vulnerable and honest, I think this needs to stay close to home for now.
If you are a writer or an artist of any kind, this is your sign. Yeah, you’re going to fall down so many times. But pick yourself back up and start again. Because this is what you were made to do. You know it, deep down in your soul. You know it because you feel the most alive when this is what you’re doing. So stop letting it kick you down.
Get.
Back.
Up.
And keep going. Because in a world of AI slop and fake content1, the world needs your real art.
It doesn’t have to be perfect. Let it be messy.
And remember that you need your art, too. That’s why you started. That’s why you will keep doing it, despite the pain and the tears and the sleepless nights.
I believe in you.
Believe in yourself, too.
In case it wasn’t clear, I’m speaking to REAL ARTISTS, not those of you who feed things into AI. You’re not an artist, YOU are the imposter, if this is what you’re doing. Literally stop stealing from real artists and educate yourself.