I’m lucky enough to be participating in the final live-action Story 101, so periodically you’ll hear from me about writing and what I’m processing through with the Story101 ladies. This is one of those times.
I don’t always know what I want. In fact, far too often I’m waivering between feeling like I’m certain about my life and being completely uncertain and unsatisfied with the things that are happening around me. I am like this not just in matters of the heart, or in regards to my future, but also when it comes to writing.
I’ve wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember. I have imagined the day when my novel is turned into a film, or when a celebrity whose work I admire says something about my book on twitter. I’ve even imagined the day when I’m on Ellen Degeneres talking about my book.
And yet, I struggle to write. I struggle to find the words and understand where my voice comes from. I struggle to feel that my words are good enough, because I often don’t understand the place they are coming from. And I wish I did. I wish I could write like I’ve always wanted to write.
Andre Acimen says,
“Don’t all writers have a hidden nerve, call it a secret chamber, something irreducibly theirs, which stirs their prose and makes it tick and turn this way or that, and identifies them, like a signature, though it lurks far deeper than their style, or their voice or other telltale antics?”
I’ve been thinking about this a lot. What’s my hidden nerve? What inspires my voice?
I think…I hope…it’s that I want to help people. I want my writing to mean something; to leave an impact, and to challenge myself and others. I no longer want to be someone who sits on the sidelines and lets people be unkind to one another or lets our world continue to fall apart, and I think that using my voice … my words … is going to be the best way for me to no longer be silent.
We read When Women Were Birds by Terry Tempest Williams for the first week, and in it she says,
“To write requires an ego, a belief that what you say matters. Writing also requires an aching curiosity leading you to discover, uncover, what is gnawing at your bones. Words have a weight to them.”
I want to believe that what I say matters. I want to discover things and put weight behind them with my voice. I don’t know what that looks like yet. I don’t know where to begin or if it will be as pretty as I’ve often imagined my writing would one day be. But what I do know is that I’m happy to be starting on that journey now. And I’m excited to see where it takes me.
