One of my goals for this year (not a resolution) is to write more.
You may be thinking, you’re a writer. Of course you write. And you would be correct: I spend most of my time during the week hunched over my laptop, fingers flying. But this is work writing – interviews, blogs for clients, for business development, and for my websites to show up more in search engines. The type of writing I’ve been neglecting is the type that nourishes my soul the most: creative writing.
So far, it’s been a struggle. I set a goal of writing creatively for three hours a week in January and missed that spectacularly. I set no such goal in February and have sat down to my own work less than a few times. My failure to amaze myself at my content production has been disappointing, to say the least.
I am trying to cut myself some slack. I run a business that involves hours of research and writing, have a marriage to attend to, and movement to maintain. If you’ve been around for more than a few weeks, you’ll know that I’ve had some health struggles of late as well. It is far easier to see myself as failing at writing than it is to frame it as succeeding at everything else.
My weird brain plays a role in this too. The more I want something, the less likely I am to approach it well and the most likely it is to get pushed aside. I don’t know why it’s like that, but it is – and that’s fairly consistent with weird brains.
But this week, I set aside some time that I couldn’t ignore – I signed up for a writer’s workshop at a local bookstore here in Taos. It was a two day workshop, but each session was only 90-minutes. It’s a short drive from my house and I figured if nothing else, I get some good community out of it.
The workshop was titled Beginning the Book You’ve Always Wanted to Write. Since I’ve begun the book, I wasn’t sure exactly how much I’d get out of it – but I showed up nonetheless. The information itself was basic, entry-level writing tips. As someone who’s been writing professionally for five years, I wondered if paying for this was a mistake But in any meeting like this, it’s often less about the information presented and more about the people who meet while you’re there.
Introductions took up over half our time on the first day as we all discussed our story ideas and the books we wanted to write. Less structured than I was expecting perhaps, but there is a sense of connection that comes from a bunch of writers going around a table and tossing out ideas. Validation is offered (“I’d read that!”), support given (“Your story is worth telling”) and lightbulb moments had (“Wait, you mean I could…”)
What struck me most on the first day was a thought I had a few minutes after we got started – no workshop is a replacement for actually writing.
Well, that hit me like a ton of bricks. I can go to any workshop I want, and the only thing that’s going to move the needle on my book is me actually dedicating more time in a week to writing it. It feels hard. It feels heavy. It is both of those things. But, it’s also true.
During the second day of the workshop, we spent time actually working on what good writing looks like, editing passages from an early draft of one of the facilitator’s books. It was fun to see how people picked out different details as important and not important, cutting different sections and adding edits. But the most valuable piece of the workshop, for me, was the end of it, when the participants got to talk to one another freely. Connections were made, encouragement offered, and emails exchanged.
I didn’t leave the workshop with any life-changing details or a new resolve to sit down for 90 minutes a day and work on my book. But I did leave with renewed encouragement that every writer faces the same struggles, and I have more time than I think to work on my writing (if I put the damn phone down.)
Taos is a town known for its creative spirit and it’s something I’ve resolved to take advantage of while I’m here. I’ve met more writers in six months here than years anywhere else. Leaning into that is the best use of time, even if its limited to just once a week.
