It must be the first Wednesday of the month, because here I am writing with insecurity, from a place of simultaneous doubt and confidence. If you like to write with similar contradictions, and want to come out the other side of the post feeling obscurely reassured by complete strangers on the internet, this is definitely the group for you. Come join!
Speaking of complete strangers floating gently around the interwebs doing kind deeds, this month our IWSG co-hosts are Kim Elliott, Melissa Maygrove, Chemist Ken (you’ve got this marketing thing, Ken!), Lee Lowery, and Nancy Gideon!
We’re channeling the spirit of Dickens this month. Although he has thus far completely ignored all of my sacrifices in his honor and refuses to grant me the gift of loquacity and run on sentences. Rude, sir. Anyway, the ungrateful spirit inspired our question for May 4th: It’s the best of times; it’s the worst of times. What are your writer highs (the good times)? And what are your writer lows (the crappy times)?
But before anything else, MAY THE 4TH BE WITH YOU. Bow before the queenliness which is our Space Mom, Carrie Fisher, delivering a zinger.
Okay. Now we can get down to the posting.
Because it is the Fourth, I’m having a full-day Star Wars marathon—except for Episode III, that one can go fall in a tentacled desert butthole with teeth and never emerge—the weather is pretty decent, and I’ve gotten some sunshine recently, I will focus on the best of times for this post.
Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of worst of times all around. The age of foolishness, the epoch of incredulity, the season of darkness, as Dickens put it. One of the ways I’ve found to deal with them, inspired by Jenny Lawson, is to be spitefully, defiantly happy. Spit in the face of your demons, laugh, and walk away while giving them a brisk middle finger. They’d do the same to you in a heartbeat, so why not? It’s no substitute for things we might need like therapy, medication, fresh air, and good food . . . but damn does it help. Pick and choose things to take up your brainspace, and make it not the bad things.
In celebration of the best of things, here are a few of the highs of being a writer:
- I get to make up whatever I want, and it’s canon. Because I said so, that’s why. **THE POWER OF CREATION, IT FILLS MY VEINS**
- It’s not a problem or an addiction, because I’m a writer. It’s my collection of books needed for research purposes
- My imagination works faster and better than . . . literally anything else on or inside my body ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
- I have many obscure, amusing, or outdated words and random useless facts stored in my brain banks, which comes in handy for annoying family, friends, and complete strangers who didn’t ask
- I can pull out a book anytime, anywhere, to get out of unwanted social interactions. And if they persist, I get to go, ‘hushhh. SHHHH. I’M WORKING’
- I get to nitpick movie adaptations as if I’m actually some sort of erudite movie critic with an informed opinion on story structure and foreshadowing. But that plot was terribly constructed. I’m just saying.
- I haz friends. Digital friends, who are fellow book lovers from all over the world. I can nerd out with them about suuuuper niche plot tropes and they will geek out happily with me. And then probably recommend a trope list or two. IT IS THE BEST