Use your delusion
New notes on creative process
Hi, friends! What a bummer couple of weeks we’ve had. I’m putting it lightly because it’s embarrassing how scared I’ve been. Jumpy and anxious like a rescue dog, frantically eating garbage like a should-be-rescued-dog.
I’m curious how you’re carrying on. I don’t mean that accusingly. What do you do when everything you do feels silly in the shadow of so much seriousness? Where does a butterfly go when it rains? Smash your answer the comments below! (Or reply to me privately, I love those too.)
One thing I’ve done besides compulsively force-hug my kids and stay da fuq off social media is a deep-dive into Frivolity. During times of existential dread, some people look for meaning and goodness in the world. I look for the perfect 17th tube of lipstick that I will never wear, and updates on the next season of RHONY. (Will they/won’t they come back? They kind of grew on me!)
(Also, if you’re reading this and wondering what globally destabilizing news I’m referencing, just know that I see you and I want to be you.)
Permission to be shitty and other discoveries.
In addition to intensive research on $700 trench coats that I couldn’t buy due to budget and moral principles, I’ve been tightening up the first 30-ish pages of my novel for beta readers.
I put out the call for readers back in May, and since then I’ve lost even more postpartum hair while battling self-doubt and procrastination — but the intro chapters are finally here! If you signed up, keep an eye out for a separate email from me, and thank you bigly.
It’s of course been a learning process, and the funny thing about learning new things through creative projects is how the process is always the same. It’s something you know already without knowing you know. Or maybe you resist what you know because you think it needs to be done differently, for whatever reason you’ve fooled yourself into believing.
An example: I realized that every time I sit down to write, I am engaged in one of three stages.
Which is eerily the same process as putting together a brand narrative, website copy, content strategy, etc. Just replace terms like “plot” with “cultural insights” and “history” with “competitive space.” It’s just working out a strategy/blueprint, then moving on to crafting the right language and aesthetics.
Maybe it’s a process similar to composing a song or molding an ashtray out of clay: there’s a shitty first version that helps you figure out what you’re doing, then you go back and get rid of what you’re not doing, then you work on what’s left to make it as beautiful (or clever, angry, horny — whatever you’re going for) as possible. (And yes, there is such thing as a horny ashtray.)
Once I realized that everything is work, no matter how inspired or potentially transcendent — just good old fashioned focus with a little bit of delusion, the less precious I feel about all of it. Which is a good thing! It means getting out of your own way. Just start. Then keep going back. Then get it out. I’m guessing you know this already, too.
Thanks as always for reading! I wish all of us peace and safety, and an awkward amount of force-hugs from your loved ones.