I feel like an asshole, knowing other people write in the face of greater pressures and still being unable somehow to overcome my piddly ones. But the one thing I’ve known the entire time is that it’s a mental block. The stress isn’t only an excuse, it’s a real reason. What I haven’t known is why stress shuts me down.

So the reason I’m finally writing about this is because I think I’ve placed another piece, possibly the most important piece, of my psychological puzzle.

Now, I’ve mentioned the fear of success in passing in previous reflections on writer’s block, but I’ve never taken it seriously. I mean, how douchey does fearing success sound? “I’m so good it scares me.” Right. But last night I was telling my kids how I didn’t apply myself in college, a typical parent’s warning to learn from my mistakes. All night the memory nagged me, the memory of what it felt like to choose to skip voice lessons that last semester, to avoid going to the piano practice rooms (and then when I got there to study history instead of playing scales), to be glad to excuse my slacking by pointing to my full-time job.

And it felt familiar. Well yeah, of course it’s familiar because I went through it, but it felt recently familiar. And then I made the connection. It’s the same thing I do today with writing. The same reluctance to begin. The same restlessness when I finally sit down to write. The same anxiety about what I should be doing as opposed to what I am doing, and it doesn’t seem to matter what those two things are. In fact, they switch places regularly.

Once I realized this connection I started to make others. I’ll go into those in the next post. This is a biggie. I hope I can see it through.

I feel pretty proud of myself for taking what I learned and applying it to change an old habit. For a long time I felt like such a slave to my unconscious (and detrimental) thinking patterns, so it’s nice to have gotten to the point where I can bring them out one at a time and deal with them. I guess this is what they mean when they say you become more of yourself in middle age. You start questioning the things others have drilled into you as fact, and you decide what you believe to be true.

And then, I suppose, most start drilling their own true facts into others, perpetuating the cycle. Is this something we are meant to do? I guess we’re not drilling so much as stating the truth as we know it. Maybe it’s human nature that the first 40 years or so we absorb our truths from other people, because we’re not experienced enough to trust our own truths.

I’ve reached a place where even though I might not be able to state my truth clearly, I recognize it when I see it. I recently saw the truth in a book about creativity called The War of Art, by Steven Pressfield. It is a small volume which tells me things I already knew but did not trust. I appreciate its compactness. Not a lot of jibber-jabber to fluff it up to an impressive size to the detriment of the message. I borrowed this from the library, but this one deserves a permanent place on my shelf. I’ll be putting it on my Amazon wish list.

So now I’m thinking a lot about what it means to be a creative person, how to not only accept that about myself but also how to celebrate it, and how to combine my creativity with my accumulated knowledge to let it manifest in my life.

This year seems to be lighter, I think because I hit the reset button last Christmas. I came to terms with my issues surrounding giving and, especially, receiving. Refusing to participate was a way of staying in the everyday where it’s safe, staying in control. As counter-intuitive as it sounds, I realized that it was really selfish of me not to receive. To defy the season and deny someone else the soul’s pleasure of giving is selfish.

So like I said, I’m better this year. I’m ready to participate and stop being such a grouch this time of year. And in honor of my new attitude I’m even writing a holiday post! I still can’t believe it!

I wish you and yours a happy Christmas, however you muddle through.

Well I guess I’m not alone in my belief that 2010 will be a year of positive change. And no, I don’t believe that the changing of the Western calendar means an automatic fresh start. The change I feel coming is personal, and I believe the seedling sprouted, unnoticed, about three months ago. Some flaws were brought to light that I didn’t realize were holding me back, such as the fear of showing my imperfections to you, and a heretofore unrecognized self-centeredness.

That second one is sort of a surprise, because my life has revolved around doing what others want of me. It’s not conceit, but rather like a hard shell I’ve developed as a way to cope with feeling put upon all the time. It’s made of some impervious substance which keeps close the little I have to call my own: things, attitudes, friends. I’m greedy and grasping and I don’t like it. Things can’t escape, but neither can they come in. I can’t share what I have for fear of losing it, and I can’t receive from others because I’m so balled up inside my shell. Though it’s still pretty new, this realization, I hope to work on it throughout the year. I feel it has the potential to change my life. I want to be a giver, and right now I’m not.

In some ways I feel like I need somebody to guide me in this, tell me when I should be emoting with people and when I should be silent. One reason I dislike being demonstrative is that I often seem to get these mixed up, and so I find it safer just not to say anything at all. And somehow it has become the most unforgivable sin, to cause discomfort in others with my inappropriateness.

The fear of showing my imperfections, is something I’ve known about for a while, and is probably related to the self-centeredness in some way. My “Thoughts From the Treadmill” posts, as well as posting some less-than-perfect photos, were an exercise in releasing the fear. I’ve also been editing these posts less, and it drives me crazy that it shows. But I think our imperfections make us accessible (up to a point) and by never going out of the house without makeup, for instance, I might be putting out a better-than-you vibe, turning some people off. I have to allow others to see my vulnerabilities, as I wish fervently to see theirs.

What do you think?

I’ve been writing regularly this week, now that I’m done with the hard part of the novel I was editing. Funny how I go entire weeks ignoring that urge to write, and then when I actually don’t have the time, I can’t stand it! I must scratch this itch!

This time around, it seems easier to get a thousand words than it used to be. I may actually be able to make my goal of getting this draft done by Christmas. I cain’t hardly believe it. (Yes, I’m thinking in my hick accent today.) I love where this book is taking me. I look over the past year and can’t believe all the ups and downs I’ve had with my writing–some physical, some mental. Okay, most mental.

But really, I’ve said this every year, haven’t I? Two-thousand–blank was a truly crappy year, I say, and next year will be great. Honestly, I’ve had some major setbacks this year, but I think things are getting easier. I’ve never looked forward to Christmas as an adult, but here I am, buying gifts on credit and not worrying about it at all.  Tired of whining, tired of tripping over hurdles.

It’s so easy to think of my circumstances at any given moment as a static state of being, and that’s simply not true. I’ve been sorting out the jumble of thoughts and beliefs and desires in my head, figuring out which ones belong there and which came from someone else. I feel like this is something I’ve said many times since starting this blog, have I? Well, it’s a long process. It’s not one a-ha moment, it’s a series of them.

My brother and I think of life’s lessons as a spiral. You start on the outer edge, and travel around toward the center. Now imagine a straight line crossing, connecting the beginning point with the inner, end point. At each intersection, there’s a bump. That bump is an a-ha moment. If you are visualizing what I tried to explain, you’ll understand there are many bumps on this spiral, and on each course it takes less time to reach the next a-ha moment. Say, a year on the outer edge, and toward the center only weeks, or even days. You repeat the same realizations, sooner each time, until you get it.

At least, I’ve noticed that pattern in my own life. How does that fit with how you see your growth?

One is measurable: I’ve jumped the last hurdle with the 15 page synopsis I’ve been working on for five weeks. Does that sound like a long time to be working on 15 pages? Well, it’s not as straightforward as that. I’d already written a short synopsis for my agent Sara to send around with the sample pages. The ending had been sketched out for the regular 3-page synopsis, and I planned to fill in the blanks as I worked on the book. I knew the basic structure would stay the same, so it was a safe gamble.

Suddenly I had to fill in those blanks– blanks that I had not only neglected, but avoided like the plague. And to tell you the truth, I needed those blanks to be filled in to continue working on the book. Thank God for this exercise which forced me to finally make those decisions. I feel free.

The other breakthrough is immeasurable: I learned something about how I work as a writer. I want to be an utterly confident and steady producer, the kind of person who works best during Nanowrimo, but apparently that’s not how I work. My usual MO is to write until I come to a problem I can’t immediately figure out. I’ll keep figuring until I’m in a corner, there’s no answer. I’m done, I can’t do anymore, I suck. Finally, I’m so upset I throw it down and stop thinking about it. When I get back to it, I’m more relaxed and the answer just…comes to me.

This has been happening my whole writing career, but I never thought to work with it. Pretty dumb, huh? I guess I just work better in fits and starts. So this last problem I had, I allowed myself a lot of breathing room, and it worked. I knew what I wanted to happen in the ending, but I had never figured out the motivation. Yesterday this huge question of motivation was solved, with a tool I’d already written into the story.

Here’s an interesting post by Rachelle Gardner ( in which she says,

I work with a lot of first-time authors, because that’s part of what I love to do. But something I’m learning is that we may be doing you a disservice if we contract you when you’ve only written one book. Yes, writing that book was a huge accomplishment. And if your very first book garnered positive attention from editors and/or agents, that’s even more of an accomplishment. It’s terrific!

But it’s not enough. The hard truth is that it takes a lot more than one book to really know “how to be a writer.” So if you get contracted after that one book, over which you slaved for years, and then you’re under the gun to produce another book on a deadline, what’s going to happen? You are going to have a very, very difficult time.

When I read this several days ago, I tweeted the link immediately because it hit me so hard. I think that’s what’s been going on with me. I’ve been writing for a long time, but always on my own time. I didn’t know a person had to figure out “how to be a writer.” Although I don’t have a deadline, per se, people are ready to leap into action when this book is finished. The self-imposed pressure was surprisingly crippling. I’ve had people get very upset with me because of this. “You have an agent, you ingrate. If I had an agent, I’d be set.” Well, sorry to burst the pre-agent bubble, but having an agent isn’t rainbows and roses. It’s a business. It’s work. It doesn’t solve all your problems and, as in my case, can magnify some.

My expectations are about 50 times higher for myself than they are for you. I build boxes around myself and then stay there, so for me the key is to relax and allow other possibilities into my consciousness. There’s so much advice we hear all the time: to write every single day, no matter what; to write our way through rough patches in our stories; to set goals and stick with them. For someone like me, with a corncob up her butt already, this advice is to be avoided at all cost. I wish there were more advice to relax. Please pass this advice along.

So, yeah, I’m pretty excited now that I finally figured out how to be a writer in my own way. Have you figured it out yet? How has it opened up your writing?

I hope.

I’ve been trying new things, like editing, and letting go of things which don’t serve me, like an unhealthy preoccupation with what other people want of me (still working on this one, but it’s getting easier). I’m tired of fighting. There’s such an attitude of “go get what you want, no matter what! Don’t let anything get in your way! You can do it if you never give up!” in this world that I wondered why it wasn’t working for me. I’m a really tenacious person, taking those sentiments to heart. I’ve spent the first half of my life wondering why I couldn’t make things happen like Trump or Oprah. So I decided since taking the path of most resistance wasn’t working, I’d try to take the maligned path of least resistance.

Well now I forgot where I was going with this.

I think I was going to talk about my writing attitudes. Before, I always wrote to please someone else. I listened to other people’s advice, and as you know, there is a lot of it on the Internet, consumed and regurgitated over and over without thought. Tried to please everyone, you know? And half–no, most of the time I had to guess at what people wanted–readers, agent, potential editors, critters, family. Each of them seemed to want a different thing, and it was impossible to please everybody. Froze me up. Too much resistance.

Well, I’ve had almost two months of forced time off. When I first broke my finger, it didn’t seem real that I wouldn’t be able to truly write until it healed. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I was really angry at first, had major withdrawals, not only from the book itself but also from the idea of writing. God, that was hard.

Now I see I should have done this a long time ago, but I was too busy trying not to let anyone down, including my dream. I wish I hadn’t forced Fate to break my finger and my laptop in order to get me to reset this aspect of my life. But now I feel cleaner, like I might actually enjoy writing when I get the chance to start up again, and it makes my eyes well up to feel that love again.

Anyway, that’s my ramble. Have a good weekend.

P.S. Got tired of scrapers stealing my content, so I’m syndicating only an excerpt till I see if it helps. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Ha, I just realized I missed my 3-year bloggiversary. Funny, but it seems like longer.

I’ve been thinking about the human tendency to expect things to stay the same. Especially people. When we meet someone, our brain creates a Base Model of the person for reference. Like say you meet a new woman who’s really nice. The Base Model is “Nice”. A few months later you accidentally cross her in some way, and she turns into a raging bitch. There’s a moment of bewilderment when the current model does not match up with the Base Model. Somehow it hurts worse to be yelled at by a person who had previously treated you kindly than by someone whom you always knew was a raging bitch. Just like it’s hard to accept kindness from a “raging bitch” Base Model.

I’ve noticed this with new people I meet. If I go through an introspective jag, the people who find me during that time seem to always connect with me on that level. If I’m writing about racy topics, I meet a whole ‘nother set of folks…who always connect with me on that level, and seem unable to change the Base Model Sherri. And the same goes for humorous times, and writerly times, and all other times. I do it, too. I’ve probably done it to you worse than you’ve done it to me. I like putting things in nice, neat boxes, and it bothers me when they don’t fit.

It might just be an unchangeable human trait, but I think it helps to be aware of it.

• American Idol. I love, love, love Kara dioGuardia (the new judge). A lot of my favorite contestants got kicked off last night– Rose, Osmond, Girl w/Pink Hair-and a bunch I didn’t like are gone as well-Bikini Girl is the only one I can remember right now. Good ones who stayed are Norman Gentle, Guy w/Cool Sideswept Black Hair. Bad ones who stayed: Tatiana “Obnoxious Girl”.
• Busy life. I’ve become a lot busier lately. Been going to the doctor, getting car repairs done, picking up kids from school functions, writing more. I’m glad. I was bored.
• Dumping people. In my last post I was talking about letting the toxic people go, either by chance or by design, but I realized this morning that calling them “toxic” was dismissive and not entirely true. The word implies that there was something wrong with each person, or that I hated them, or that they’d done some injury to me. Really, those weren’t the criteria for letting these people go. I had to assess my own reactions to each person’s involvement, ask myself, “Do I feel off-balance when interacting with this person? Do interactions with this person cause me to act in a way that is out of line with what I want? Am I getting as much as I’m giving? Have I been honest with myself in previous assessments of this relationship?” You see it really had nothing to do with the people themselves, but with my needs at the moment. I realize that sounds really selfish, but as a person who automatically neglects her own needs, even for complete strangers, you might forgive me. They aren’t bad people, and I miss them. FWIW, since I made the decision to assess my relationships with brutal honesty, I’ve felt more stable, more comfortable, more in touch with myself.
• My doctor visit. Going in for a follow-up on the sinus thing. Got a better dose of thyroid hormone a few days ago, and I already feel better in that regard. I <3 thyroid hormone. You do too, you just don’t know it.
• 5 Essential FireFox Plug-ins (oops, broke my rule about linking while walking.)

And that’s it. Sorry I rambled. These “Thoughts from the Treadmill” posts always make me nervous, because I never edit. What if I said something that will make someone scream at me? *cowers, trembles, hits publish*