Why did I think it would be a good idea to make 2020 my first year trying Inktober? On top of my usual National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) in November, I’ve been quite the busy girl. Not something I’d intended with all going on for me, but I needed it more than I thought. Sometimes we need a distraction.
Drawing and writing require two different kinds of creativity for me. I need to be practicing both more, learning my strengths and weaknesses in both, remembering what it is about being creative that makes life worth living. Hence my ambitious attempt at a month doing more of each.
I’m glad I got to start with drawing, an activity with no connections to my day job, creating a clear distinction when work ends and play begins. I knew daily drawing wouldn’t happen, especially with a camping trip planned for mid-October. But I loved following random ideas and lines wherever they took me, not always quite as much play and more like work, but something I’d still call an enjoyable effort. Very enjoyable.
I didn’t work on a few ideas, like a Jack Skellington piece or my take on the Skyrim logo or finishing my Princess Leia piece. I didn’t draw every day either. But I remembered how peaceful it can be to turn on some music and let the lines flow. I spent more time drawing than I have in years, so I’ll take it as a step in the right direction. I’m proud of myself for sitting down at the page and putting in the practice hours.
As I transitioned from drawing to writing in November, I decided my NaNo project this year would center on remembering my dad, everything from growing up and all the things I went through with him as my only constant in life to the unexpected final days battling COVID. I knew going into this project that I would have lots of tears. That was kind of the point, a therapeutic release by giving voice to words set aside while I get through each day. What I did not expect is how deeply my own creativity is tied to that relationship and how much I would be learning about myself as a writer at the same time.
The words flowed easily, as I suspected they might while joined by the inevitable tears. What I’m not sure about is how much of the story is done. I have so many sections I started but haven’t finished, not to mention all the notes to add from my Google Doc, which I’m sure is full of things I’ve forgotten to add in my main NaNo doc. The month of November gave me a 50k goal. Now I need to figure out where to go next to finish the story, or if I’m even ready for that yet.
What I fear the most is losing the spark I feel on good days, that burning desire to start tackling all the things I want to write about instead of feeling overwhelmed by them. I tell myself if only I can find that magic time slot dedicated to writing each day, then I could start finishing more work and tackling some actual stories and feeling less like a wannabe and more like an actual writer.
Deep down I’m afraid I’ll never see the magic again, that I’ll always be so busy with everything else that the writing dreams will dwindle away and die. Life will keep happening, with writing always on the backburner. Forever and ever til death do us part.
I know better. Those dreams will always be there, lurking, waiting, silently driving me insane wishing I could stop everything else and finally focus on MY writing. They are too strong, too persistent to give up and die. Kinda like me.
So here I am, two weeks after NaNo and barely touching my writing again. Yes, I needed the break and time to catch up on chores postponed during NaNo. Oh and Christmas, kids tend to like presents this time of year, especially with the year we’ve all been having.
Now that I’ve taken a breath from Inktober and NaNo and sorted some necessary life tasks, I need to do more to keep my dreams alive. Write more, draw more, stop sitting on it, and just put it out there. Nothing is stopping me from coming back to change it later. For now, I just need to keep creating more. My story isn’t ready to end just yet, and I’m the only one who can start putting in more time.
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