Writing Out 2023
I’ve struggled to find words in 2023. Full stop. The words stopped.
As the year ends, my pantser-self has no list of submissions, acceptances, rejections, books read or not read. I tried. There are scattered documents entitled “2023 writing progress” on my computer. I signed up for and wrote absolutely nothing in several month-long writing sprints. I haven’t managed to write this column in months.
I did read thousands of brilliant submissions written by other people and brilliant books by other people too. I edited other people’s words with a kindness that I didn’t offer myself. I continued my very bad habit of writing and editing first in my head, which meant stories and characters got lost along the way because I have the memory of a 50-something, not 20-something. There were other things that got lost too — my elderly dog passed away, two vehicles had to be replaced, multiple bouts with shingles stole the summer and blurred my eyesight, our basement flooded, we dumped cable TV, and both kids went to college.
I tried to tell myself it was okay to write less because I was doing other things that are related to writing. Peripheral things. Some even involved words. Book promotion. Social media. Columns. Editing. Interview questions and responses. Reviews. Blurb writing. Day job writing and recipe development. Haphazard attempts at filling in gaps in my novel with research. All novel thoughts that still meant I wasn’t writing. I briefly went down the rabbit hole of low-res MFA programs too.
The proverbial empty nest ended up defining my 2023. Adult children gone. Words gone. More tangible lists crowded my mind and emptied it too. I’m going into 2024 with the same exhausted resolve I always start with — a plan to fill Google Docs, journal pages, and Post-its.
I also know I’m not the only one who wrote less in 2023. Some wrote far more. Both sides of the coin are okay. Repeat. It’s okay I didn’t write as much in 2023. It’s okay if you wrote or didn’t write. Had things published. Had things nominated. Or didn’t write at all.
It has taken me a very long time to accept all of that for myself.
2024 feels different. Like one of the pretty (and perpetually-empty) journals that are scattered throughout my house. The proverbial white page, but in a good way. I’m honestly terrible at regular resolutions too. I try to plot them out but by the middle of January, I know I’ll be drinking less water and more Coca Cola.
I hope I’ll be writing more too. I hope you will too. Here are my pantser, almost-planning ways to do just that. I’m envious of planners and plotters. And so, it’s kind of a list. It’s almost writing. I still have to check which numbers need to be written out, but I do know how to say 2023 in French and English — the French version is long and pretty. And I spend a lot of time figuring out international time zones.
You’ll have to buy one of those fancy bottles with little lines on it to drink more water, but here are some ways to write more (or less) from a pantser that most likely will never change.
Read things other people have written.
Retreat from writing, even if that only means hiding in your laundry room with a composition book and no 2 pencils you borrowed from your kids.
Retreat from social media.
Join new social media. Forget a platform to balance that out.
Gather with writing friends. By Zoom. With green eggs and ham.
Fill your phone notes with news and funny words and interstate sign names.
Fill your bedside table with dream memories that make no sense in the morning.
Write at 5:00 AM.
Write at 5:00 PM.
Write at 5:52 Australian time. Take time to figure out what time that is locally.
Lose time completely. Write by the glow of sunsets and sunrises, rainbows and sidewalks, soccer game practices, and in long lines.
Celebrate people with words and commiserate with those that have none.
Write in a POV that makes you uncomfortable.
Write the back story that makes your characters uncomfortable.
Buy a pretty journal and some fancy pens.
Write on napkins with restaurant crayons.
Set a broad writing goal.
Set a narrow writing goal.
Set no goals.
Hang up all your pants and then, write.
Write by the seat of your pants.
