Book drafts and interpretive krumping
Purging all the half-baked article topics I’ve texted myself
Whoopsy daisies!
I took a few weeks off.
It’s summer, and I want to spend Sunday mornings wistfully staring off my front porch in linen pyjamas, cosplaying as a woman who is going to be okay after a series of violent crimes devastated my small, oceanside town.
That’s what this time of year is for!
I missed the last few newsletters for three very valid, super legit reasons:
I spent last weekend in Vegas with Flavor Flav and the US women’s Olympic & Paralympic medalists, and I still haven’t even begun to process that at all, actually….1
I finished my novel draft and needed a break from looking at words.
I sent said manuscript to beta readers and had a multi-day panic attack over real people reading my real book and having real opinions about it.
Here I am cheesing outside of Staples with my printed draft.
Don’t let this picture fool you!
I’m super proud of myself, but also racked with insecurity and dread.
Writing a book is no joke! These 296 pages have taken me over two years, and they’re still…not great.2
I know, I know…We write to edit. BUT! The editing process almost killed me.
There is nothing quite like the humiliation of seeing what something should be in your head, and not having the ability to translate that to the page.
Like, it’s just words? It shouldn’t be so hard?
Now that I’ve reached this milestone (ie: reaching a point where I could no longer bear to look at the draft anymore), I have a deep desire to shred the whole thing.
Maybe being a novelist isn’t in the cards for me!
Maybe I let myself get carried away on the delulu express!
Maybe I need to stop writing altogether!
Maybe I should give up and spend my days doing normal things like cleaning the house, experimenting with Jell-O recipes, and being angry at my neighbours.
Other people are clearly better suited to this. Some creators simply have it. That intangible, super-human ability to make people feel.
Often, I stumble upon art that’s so profound, so inspired, so important, that I question everything I’m doing with my writing.
Case in point:
Truly, why do I even bother?
How can I compete with this ingenuity!?
Alas, I can’t stop!
Whatever mental illness I have requires a consistent creative outlet that is simultaneously fulfilling and deeply demoralizing.3
We write to edit, and we also write to appease the voices in our heads that say we’re not good at anything.
That’s valid too!
Some people create art to make the world a better place.
Some of us have to channel our obsessions into something external, lest we really go off the deep end...
And so, I’m back!
Fun time is over!
My butt is in the chair, and I’m forcing inspiration.
We just gotta get back to the fundamentals: Words on a page.
There are no bad ideas in a brainstorm, right???
That’s why you like this Substack!
“My naked writing, no strings attached.”
Well friends, it doesn’t get much more naked than this!!
Purging all the half-baked article topics I’ve texted myself in the last three weeks…
Every AI logo looks like a butthole. Is this intentional because they poop garbage? Or more of a subconscious thing happening in the psyche of the douchebags making marketing decisions????
A power ranking of every Catholic saint, including St. Vitus, the patron saint of comedians, dancers, and epilepsy, St. Hilary, the patron saint of snake bite victims, and St. Margaret Clitherow, the patron saint of business women (#girlbossforgod)
The last six months, told in mirror selfies.
Can we get another Muppets movie or???? What is the hold up? How are you playing the FIFA World Cup halftime show and not evaluating scripts?? Can Muppets even play soccer without legs? What a weird sport for them to get behind.
Obama at WNBA All-Star this weekend, casually giving his Mount Rushmore of female athletes. Is this a dream? Did I hallucinate this happening??
The sadistic horror of the Saint Laurent clear men’s shoe. All I can see are foggy feet. Who would do this? What function would you wear these to? Why no socks???
Speaking of socks, Gen Z has walked back their stance on crew socks, and I’m annoyed. Have you no integrity? We Millennials have busy lives and do not have time to keep up with your whims on ankle coverage!
Whatever happened to JoJo? What is she working on right now? How is she not capitalizing on a Hilary Duff-inspired comeback?
Is it masochistic to start drafting another book right now? What about a horror-comedy remake of Carrie, only in menopause? Is that something? Would you read that?
The fact that the minions from Despicable Me, who are made to serve the most evil person at any point in history, were canonically frozen during World War II so that the franchise didn’t have to contend with them being Nazis.
What if people became haunted by the cadaver fat used in BBLs? On that note, calling fat donors ‘epidermis angels’ is truly one of the most sinister terms I’ve ever heard…The horror movie basically writes itself.
This Instagram post, which has forever altered the way I think:
What do you think?
Is any of that interesting???
We write to edit, remember!!!
I told you these would be half-baked… I told you that.
I just need something to kickstart the creativity. Haven’t you ever had vacation brain? Don’t you ever text yourself weird stuff??
I haven’t lost my touch, have I?
Should I take a longer break, seek professional help, or keep plowing through??
Let me know!
Last thought:
Like, what?
None of my beta readers have said this yet, but I’m bracing for the worst
Demonic possession, maybe?
Keep on writing! I’m looking forward to reading your next one when it is ready for prime time!