It feels strange to share an amateur painting/multimedia canvas I made for myself, especially months (years?) after I made it, but let me explain.
My aunt is an excellent knitter and does all different kinds of needlework. She makes the best gifts, goes on knitting safaris with her friends, and is constantly improving her skills and learning something new. But she used to get really frustrated when she dropped a stitch. That’s the kind of mistake you can’t fix except by undoing all of the work you’ve done since the dropped stitch and starting over from there. But now whenever she realizes she’s made a mistake and has to go back, she calmly says, “It’s all knitting.” Meaning, even the setbacks are part of the process.
I made this canvas to remind myself that that’s the attitude I need to have toward my entire fiction career. I love writing and living a creative life, but there are so many obstacles to spending time on my projects, so many traps in this wild west of an industry, and so many switchbacks of self-doubt, that it’s very easy to slip into despair and feel like I’m not making any progress.
But every step you take, even backwards, is a step you learn from, a building block of progress. Every success story is just the tip of the iceberg, masking years of toil and doubt that led to the mountaintop moments everyone remembers. There’s a lot of faith that goes into creation. Every beautiful piece my aunt makes, and every story that I write, is made one stitch or one word at a time. The hours can feel like a waste in the meantime and tempt you to never finish, but when you see the finished product, you will understand that it was all part of the process.
I painted the scarf on this canvas to make the white writing look like stitches from a distance, but if you get up close, it’s a snapshot of the crazy journey I’ve taken so far. It’s a vulnerable look at how much of my time is spent knocked on my butt, and I hope it validates whatever you’re going through right now as you toil for a goal that is bigger than you. It reads:
“Write.
Edit.
Rewrite.
Delete.
Read.
Reread.
Reword.
Rethink.
Start over.
Daydream.
Plan.
Walk away.
Journal.
Begin again.
Double-check.
De-stress.
Plan some more.
Procrastinate.
Rewrite.
Get cocky.
Accept criticism.
New approach.
Beta test.
Compare.
Ask yourself hard questions.
Make a new plan.
Despair.
Have a nap.
Pep talk.
Remember why you started.
Accept encouragement.
Believe.
Be inspired.
Cut entire scenes.
Cry.
Do some digging.
Check yourself.
Name chapters.
Read advice.
Question everything.
Dress as a character.
Lie on the floor.
Have an epiphany.
Have a shower.
Write stuff down.
Get a new notebook.
Get distracted.
Make a little bit of progress.
Throw a fit.
Watch a movie.
Wash the dishes.
Fall asleep on the couch.
Berate yourself.
Focus on your day job.
Fly into a rage.
Subsist on fantasy.
Name your new character.
Blast music.
Try something new.
Scribble bits of dialogue.
Misspell words.
Doubt your talent.
Oversell your abilities.
Regret everything.
Realize you are an author.
Wrangle legal paperwork.
Rise on new wings of hope.
Come crashing down.
Quit.
Come back.
Give advice.
Make stuff up.
Live vicariously.
Improve your manuscript.
Retype.
Scream.
Get a snack.
Reevaluate your life.
Learn something new.
Write all night.
Publish.
Dissociate.
Rinse and repeat.
Write.”
Give yourself permission to accept every part of the process. Accept where you are right now and the distance between here and where you want to go. But don’t forget to look back and remind yourself of how far you’ve come. Consider your low moments the foundations on which you will build your success. And give yourself a break from the criticism. On this day of rest, that’s what I’m trying to do.
Happy reading, and happy writing!