Where Readers & Writers Connect
The word freedom means different things to people, depending on their history, their community and culture, and their perspective on life and living. It could mean independence from someone or some job or responsibility.
Or it could encompass the simple idea of free will to complete your desire, to change the path of your life’s story.
I ruminated on the reasons why my writing production has fallen so drastically. At first my long commute home, giving me time to reflect and consider, seemed a God-send. But after a while even that motivation molded into a listless bit of nothing. Oh, I continue to occasionally think about this scene, or that twist, or this possible re-hash of the beginning, but, the moment I arrive at home, all thought or desire of actually working on my projects has vanished.
So, I began to question why.
Why do I believe I have no special talent or ability for writing? Why do I feel my fiction doesn’t offer much to anyone other than myself or my family? Like many writers, the passion for creating characters and worlds and stories has grown with me from before my memory. Why would I now allow that passion to wane into a torment that would coerce me into giving it up?
While there are many possible reasons, one rang clear in the forefront of my mind, I had allowed myself too much ‘Freedom.’
Instead of holding myself to a task or a goal on any level, I made the mistake of giving myself the supposed freedom to do whatever my heart desired. With the lack of any clear direction, my mind and inspiration soon grew too overwhelmed with the infinite possibilities to make a decision and a goal and then move forward. So I did nothing, comfortable in the fact that I utilized my long commute to/from work to hash out a clear picture of my romance rewrite.
Yes, it is good that I am using the time for something other than listening to music or letting my mind wander. However, what about the after? When I arrive at work, or at home, am I putting my thoughts into the computer or onto paper? Not like I should. Distractions were allowed to rule my heart and my inspiration.
I have done the one thing writers are to never do, grow complacent.
My time isn’t being spent reading, or writing, or studying… my gift of freedom to myself has been squandered because I did not assign myself goals. So, when I did not experience the enticing euphoria of completion or accomplishment, my mind began to wander to lesser distractions.
Though stories and characters and conflicts cried out for resolve and the breath of life, their dismay did not tempt me. Instead, I began to feel even more pity for myself. Woe is me. I have all this time to write and yet I do nothing . . . wait . . . what? Why am I feeling sorry for myself when I am the one letting me slip into the mire of idleness? Why am I expecting pity when I am the one allowing NOTHING to happen?
I have the freedom to place my mind on the path of a goal. Or, I have the freedom to set aside my pen for a vacation of refreshing, no strings attached. It is my freedom of will and thought that allows me freedom for thought and creation. But I must always remember to respect the power of a goal on that freedom. Boundaries and goals help guide us; they are not a limiter.
Instead, they swing wide the door of motivation because we see an end that welcomes the pride of accomplishment.
Nona King is dedicated to writing true-to-life characters, be they villain or hero, so readers can experience life and its many passions. Follow her blog at Word Obsession. She is also the author of To Save a Soul (The Soul Cycle), paranormal fantasy.