I read a wonderful question and answer piece this week that changed my idea of what I wanted to talk about today. In an attempt to be “real”, a woman bagged it all and pulled a Thoreau: she found a remote cabin in the woods of Montana (with an outhouse, no less), unplugged from everything she’d known, and tried to write her memoir. Of course, nothing happened. The author thought she was blocked, and asked what she should do. The answer given is thoughtful and complex, full of wise, excellent advice. This, in particular, stood out:

“I think that a lot of writer’s block comes from trying to write something you don’t really mean.”

I’ve said a thousand times block is your story saying you’re headed in the wrong direction. But this — you’re unable to write because you don’t really mean it — seems like a more honest explanation.  

I’ve been working on this new Taylor book for a while now, and while I haven’t exactly been blocked, it’s taking longer than I expected. Taylor has been...resistant to my plans. I’ve always known where I wanted to take her, what her life’s journey is going to be. But it’s been ten years since I wrote a Taylor novel, and guess what? I’m a different person now. A different writer. I’ve grown. I’ve changed. Taylor has remained static in my mind this entire decade, but she’s been changing, too.

My enthusiasm for this story was being tempered by the fact that it just wasn’t working. It took me a while to understand what was happening. Taylor was resisting the story I was trying to tell because it’s her story. Not mine. And after ten years, I didn’t know her anymore.

Does that sound surprising? Think about the last time a close friend moved to another city. There are subterranean goings-on you’re no longer aware of. Restaurants you’re unfamiliar with, new friends, new daily routines. Even if you talk all the time, your friend is still experiencing things you aren’t anymore. That changes the dynamic between you and them, and it’s certainly something to think about when you’re writing a character who’s been long-dormant, existing only in your mind instead of on the page. On the page is where the growth of a character happens. When I stopped trying to force Taylor into what I’d planned for her and instead allowed her to show me what she wanted for herself, the book started flowing again. It’s now the course of the plot, this growth of hers. Funny how that works.

I suppose the lesson to be learned here is to meet your story and characters where they are, instead of where you expect them to be. That goes for you, too. Life’s a lot easier when you are present and accepting of yourself, as is. 

Friday Reads 📚

I’m still working on the Gabaldon books awaiting my signed copy of Bees. After picking up and setting down several other books, I wanted a touchstone, so I turned to Lisa Unger’s THE CROWS. Lisa is one of my favorite authors, and she put out a very intriguing series of interconnected stories earlier this year. Her self-assured writing helps me settle into my own work, and her inventiveness gives me permission to just go there, already.

News 🏆

Some exciting news to share this week. A WORD ON WORDS was nominated for an EMMY® Monday night! It was a lovely acknowledgment of the hard work that went into making a television show during a pandemic. Congrats to all the AWOW team and Nashville Public Television for helping us find the path, and many thanks to the incredible guests who shared their books with us! For something fun, here’s an elegant short video about how the EMMY® statuettes are made.

How was your week? What are you reading this weekend?