I’ve written on my story 9 days in a row. I haven’t written a LOT each day, but at least I’ve written something. I was planning to write this morning between dropping the kids off at school and going to water aerobics, but for some reason I’m just not feeling it. I think maybe my character is tired. Which is understandable. She’s unpacking a lot. Dealing not only with her own social anxiety, but the anxieties of the other characters as well.
My character is an empath, though I don’t think she realizes that. All she knows is that she gets these feelings about other people that she can’t explain. Like she can tell when someone is struggling, even if they look like they’ve got it totally together on the outside. I feel like I do that too. It wasn’t until taking one of Lauren’s classes about empaths and boundaries that I realized why. And it’s not even like I just know, I feel their emotions too.
I don’t know where this story is headed. It’s unfolding very slowly. But maybe that’s not a bad thing. While there is some adventure and humor, it is dealing with some pretty serious things. The characters are all together because they are dealing with anxiety, yet they all present in different ways. Alanna has difficulty talking. Darrak gets angry. Xander gets bossy. Lily people pleases and avoids conflict.
Irsina is the difficult one. She’s quiet and steady. But there’s something there that I can’t quite get a handle on. I think maybe the reason she is difficult for me is because Alanna, the character telling the story, doesn’t quite understand her. And I get the impression that there might be a relationship that could develop between the two of them. Though I don’t know if it is romantic or platonic.
It seems strange that I don’t know what will happen in my own story. But I feel like it’s the way writing works best for me. Lauren says to treat characters like real people. But I think I’ve sort of felt like I’m reading their story as it comes out of my fingers. Like it’s being written by someone else and I get to be a reader, getting to know the characters as the story progresses.
I’m not sure if I’m explaining that well. I know that the story is coming from somewhere inside of me, yet it feels separate from me. It’s coming from outside of me. Yet without me, the story will not be told. It’s kind of crazy.
This may be the first story I’ve written in first person. At least, that I can remember. Having it written in first person really limits the perspective, but giving Alanna’s interpretations of the actions of others makes her even more real. And I think as she discovers the truth behind the actions of the others, she will grow in her understanding of herself and her role in the world. At least, that’s my hope. I guess I’ll find out.
I’ve worked really hard to not get bogged down with word count or quantifying my writing. I’m trying to let it be natural. It’s hard for my brain to let go sometimes. I’m looking for validation that I’m a “good” writer. The NaNo site collects data based on word count. And in my “am I good enough” quest, I find getting those little badges for milestones gives me a little rush of dopamine.
But I’m trying to find ways of validating myself without external confirmation. It’s kind of like the scene I wrote yesterday, come to think of it. The characters get bogged down on figuring out the “right” action to take. But Dr. Keth says to Alanna ““All you can do is make a choice and see where it takes you. If it doesn’t work, it’s not a failure. It’s simply a step towards finding what will work.”
It’s the message I try to give my kids all the time. Yet it’s so hard to internalize for myself.
I know that my own need for external validation probably stems from when I was a kid in the hospital and everyone kept telling me to “be a good girl” so I could go home. And also from the relationship between my parents. My mom was super critical of my dad, which probably translated in my head that if I wanted her to love me, I had to be perfect in the ways she valued.
It’s funny. The story I’m writing has the characters going through a form of therapy. But it’s almost like I’m going through it with them. I’m learning with them. Even though I obviously know, cognitively, all of the things that they are learning (how else would I write about them?), I still haven’t really learned to accept them.
I think that’s what I need to start seeing this as. My therapy. It’s not about writing a story for someone else. It’s about learning and growing with my characters. Some days will be better than others. And some lessons might need to marinate longer than others. But any progress is progress. Regardless of word count.
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