I keep writing and then erasing. Writing and then erasing again. I can’t decide what to say–what tone I want to take, what feeling I want to express. This has been a heavy and happy and sad time for me and my family. I am surprised by the spectrum of emotions that I can have in the course of a day (or an hour, or a minute).
I don’t feel like writing very much. i knew I wouldn’t feel like it even before I had the baby but it’s worse than I anticipated. It’s like my writing energy has been zapped away and even when I have time, I can’t make myself sit down and create.
And I still have some small revisions to do.
And just before this baby came and all the other things that have been happening, writing had been my lifeline. It kept me sane and it felt like I had boundless energy to do it. Now . . . I feel empty.
What do you do when you feel empty?
Even when you know writing, pushing through the emptiness, will get you through?
What makes your MC feel empty? What gets them through?
Why is life so hard?
And so good?
And so horrible?
And so funny?
And so confusing?
I think writing a memoir is a good idea. I also think writing our lives is a good idea. I think we should always write our lives. It does come out in our fiction–the questions, the pain, the joys, etc.–but I don’t think that’s enough. We need to write our histories. We need to write down the things that keep us up at night, the things that make us cry, the things make us laugh our faces off. We owe it to ourselves and we owe it to our children and we owe it to all people who need stories. True stories. Real stories. Our stories.