Sunday, March 16, 2014

The Writing Relationship

I had a crisis of faith recently with the book I am writing.  I experienced the first significant pangs of doubt, and loss of conviction. 

After years of flirtation, I was finally in the heady rush of new love; that wonderful, intoxicating stage of discovery, infatuation.  I was just learning to talk about her (pronouns suck so I’m goin’ old school traditional), I wanted to 

talk about her.  I was learning how to share ‘that part’ of my life, with my other life.  It was beginning to feed upon itself and it felt really good.  I had brought my clandestine love home and introduced her to the family and friends for the first time.  Then, some casual comment regarding somebody else who did a play with the same setting, same theme perhaps that I seemed to be talking about.  I responded dismissively – ‘no, that’s not the same at all’ – then defensively, and ended the conversation.  I gave a mental derisive snort afterward – they clearly didn’t know what they were talking about, and see if I would ever share anything with them ever again. 

But the comment stuck.  Had it really been so ‘casual’ or was it calculated, more subversive?  Without my awareness it worked its devious way under my skin and began its slow journey throughout my extensive path of landmines.  Suddenly it was just there – doubt, suspicion.  I wasn’t writing any more, I didn’t feel that

warm spot deep inside where precious secrets are hidden away for late night rendezvous and times of despair.  It was all of a sudden just gone.  That sneak attack, that ‘casual’ comment, eroded my faith, my love and devotion.  It felt exactly the same as somebody purposefully planting the hint that your partner is cheating on you, sowing that suspicion.  Eventually every act, every comment falls into that idea, force-fits itself, building on its own false momentum.  The relationship has been tainted.  And you wonder if the relationship really is that fragile.  Haven’t you been through so much together – is this really it? 
What happens next?  Do you continue with what is now just a charade of a relationship?  Do you confront angrily, now believing the lie?  Or do you just try to put it out of your mind dismissively – it can’t be true.  I think the

confrontation, openly acknowledging it is best.  Attack and purge the demons of doubt head-on – don’t allow any damaging vestiges to remain.  After the confrontation, hopefully truth remains, stronger.  But here comes the inevitable
spin; if that doubt was triggered so easily does that mean something must be there after all?  So then we confront that, address it; look at the whole thing again through objective eyes and then decide.  Do we walk away, or re-commit after this crisis?  Are we strong enough to withstand this crisis?  This will take time. 

And commitment.  My favorite thing in the whole of the world, clearly.  I still can’t even spell the damn word!  But I do know the theory and am striving for the application.  Choose something, stick with it and develop it with absolute love and your own voice and vision.  The product will reveal and embody that,
every time.  Commitment is the key.  Falling in love if easy right?  And if you’re in love, then everything should so easily follow, fall into place.  But – the theory, the practical application, tells us time and again, that relationships are work.  Real work.  And you shouldn’t give up on your love just because somebody laces your honey with poison for unfathomable, maybe even unconscious, reasons.  They don’t know her like you do; the warmth of her touch in the lonely, cold night; the strength she gives you in the middle of yet another
insane workday; her understanding and absolute acceptance of all your trial and error; the meaning she infuses into the weariness of the day to day existence.

So I need to spend some real quality time with my relationship.  Get to know her again, decide if what we have has the legs to go the distance. 
This simply takes that commitment; a renewal of vows, continuing from a stronger and much more honest foundation, based on reality and brutal truth – not just passion and infatuation.  It’s the next phase of any relationship that endures, where the real work begins.

Yes.  I am still in love.  I am indebted to her.  She makes me want to be a better person, one who actually can commit to something and see it through, face my fears, and provide for her the life I envision.  


We’re registered at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Office Depot for this renewal of vows and we thank you for your support!



4 comments:

  1. Dude, tell that little f%$#$%%^%$ to shut the hell up. There will always be someone who wants to rain on our parade. And, if you are like me, that part of me wants to hear negativity so I have an excuse to quit, stop, feel sorry for myself, doubt myself, drink a bottle of wine, worry about Russia and the Crimea. Remember, the yellow brick road was full of witches, flying monkeys and no food as far as I could see, but did Dorothy give up? No, she kept her eyes on the prize and the tougher the road, the more determined she was. If you find an obstacle, be a river and flow around it. The obstacle is still there, but it has no power. xoxoxoxoxo

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    1. Dear Violet, you are SO right. This really does seems to strike those chords. It is validating to know I'm not all alone in this particular neurosis, as I shared with Pam. This particular nerve feels primal - hitting at our very survival and right to own our own voice - to exist. I love your stance and your strength. I'm beginning to envision you in shiny red boots, a tiara and a long flowing cape, ever-ready to destroy demons of doubt and destruction. Love it. Thank you for your words and your invaluable support!

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  2. Wonderful writing. You have hit at the heart of writers and our fears. I remember the feeling of anxiety when I wanted a certain title for my book and it was taken, and every thing else that sounded like it. Then when I went into bookstores and saw all those books I knew mine had no chance, and I lost the joy of going into bookstores to browse the shelves...years later I published and now browse and read again for the joy of the written word.

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    1. Hi Pam - thank you so much!
      I'm so pleased this resonated - that in itself feels very validating. I'm learning I'm really not in this all alone, and that as neurotic as I may be, maybe not all of it is just me! And it's very inspiring to hear how you overcame this and actually published. Thank you for that too, and I hope to hear from you again!

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