Thursday's Children: It's the Words

Posted by: Jeff McKown

Thursday's Children is a weekly blog hop where writers come together to talk about what inspires them. I'm participating today and you can too. 

A link to other Thursday's Children writers is at the end of the post.

Thanks to Rhiann Wynn Nolet for orchestrating this affair.

I'm a massive dork when it comes to writing. I keep a schedule with daily word count targets and I track my progress compulsively. My customized Excel spreadsheet has one tab for story structure, and another where I keep a "to do" list of open questions and issues. But the holy grail of my spreadsheet, the tab to end all tabs, is the formula-laden sheet where I calculate my output and performance to daily goals - the page that lets me know whether to flog or reward myself at the end of each writing day. I’m just that kind of guy.

With my aforementioned schedule, I have a pretty good idea of when I’m going to finish the second draft of the novel I’m currently revising. In two weeks, I’ll be done and that scares the living shit out of me. I lose sleep wondering about the great abyss that lies beyond the security of my daily writing rituals, and the uncertainty of what happens next makes my heart pound and my stomach churn. Because I’m also that kind of guy.

Having worked on this book off and on for a decade, I’ve had ample time to consider my fear, to examine it, to roll it around in my palm and squeeze it like a turd. I’m pretty intimate with my writing fear, but it’s only now, as the end of the second draft draws near, that I have begun to fully comprehend its meaning.

Writing isn’t a hobby for me, it’s a dream. And not a champagne hot tub Beverly Hills limo dream, but a third-grade no-pants school bus dream. Okay, not exactly that either. More like an MLK “I have a dream” dream, only less uplifting and lyrical, without all the concern for equality and brotherhood and the well-being of mankind.

You see, I love words. All kinds of words. I love how they fit together like jagged little puzzle pieces, conjuring nightmares and landscapes no one else ever imagined. I love how choosing the right words and assembling them in a meaningful order conveys a profound thought, a stunning image, or a devastating emotion. I love how words, when properly aligned, become art.

That's my dream - to make word art, the kind that makes you weep in a quiet corner or laugh out loud on a crowded train. To share ideas that make you shake your head in disapproval, or words that make you love someone more. To craft thoughtful collections of phrases and sentences and paragraphs, and carefully cull them into a collection of pages that rock you, crush you, or piss you off.

And therein lies my fear. I’m two weeks away from finishing the second draft of a novel, my best attempt at chasing the dream and making word art, which I daresay is a damn sight tougher than most of us know. I’ve invested so much. I spoke my dream aloud. I left jobs to pursue it. I sought peers and mentors and editors. I read blogs, and books, and books about books. I bought software. I meditated. I lived in a cabin in the woods. Thousands. Of. Hours.

Now I know, thanks to my trusty spreadsheet, I will soon reach a new milestone. In fourteen short days, give or take a day, I will cross another bridge on the way to my dream, with no way of knowing what awaits me at the far end of the span. Maybe my dream comes true or maybe there’s a nightmare end. More likely, the dream will just go on, and I'll be left to keep running after it.

I’m scared, but whatever happens next, I have the satisfaction of knowing I gave it my all. I pursued something in my life that mattered to me, something I cared about. I surfaced something honest and real from deep inside - the words. Because you know what? I’m that kind of guy, too.

Click here to view other Thursday's Children blog posts, or check out Rhiann's website for more info.