Today I’m going to go against the Skinny Black Girl Artistic Code and force out a post.
Why? Because I can feel a wicked case of writer’s block descending upon me and the longer I go without writing, the worse it will get. This means I’ve got to keep my pen moving through the trash in my head until I can unearth some treasure. Bare with me, folks.
I walked into the kitchen in search of wine and snacks. Found no wine or snacks. Went back to the laptop.
I stared at the blinking cursor.
I caught the performance of “Teach Me How to Dougie” on 106 & Park and realized that if I was 14 years old, I’d know that dance and the names and birthdays of everyone of those lil dancin’ niccas in skinny jeans.
I went back to the fridge, hoping wine and snacks had magically appeared. They hadn’t. Continue Reading »
It’s not a game. I’m serious about breaking the blocks.
I had an interesting conversation with a really good friend of mine yesterday. He was asking about my writer’s block and offering suggestions on how to get my pen/mind/heart back into writer mode. What began as me talking in circles (which happens often when I’m talking through my issues) it all became so very clear.
I explained that I first started blogging because I was so very opinionated. I had thoughts/feelings about everything going on in the world around me. And so much of my previous blog posts were filled with my judgments regarding my surroundings, my life, politics, music, relationships, etc.
But as I began to become more spiritual, I had to learn to leave my judgments by the wayside. I had to stop seeing the world through the frames of “good vs. bad” or “smart vs. stupid” or even “right vs. wrong.” Though I did not abandon caring about the happenings in the world around me, I stopped being so moved by them. Things happen that I disagree with, of course. But I lost the desire to rant about anything. I see the world how I see it. That’s my truth. Someone else’s truth may be different. But as long as truth is viewed through the human eye, there is no absolute truth. No what “should be.” Only what is.
When I said all of this out loud yesterday, it dawned on me that I was having a hard time writing because my perspective on life is changing. I’m far more Zen about things these days, which means that a new writing voice will have to emerge. One that is as honest and raw as the old one, but true to the way I currently view the world.
I thought I needed more discipline. To gain “control” of the writing. But no. I realize that the only thing I need to do is just write. Abandon my 1+2 logic, come to the keyboard, move my fingers and let God do the rest. Good or bad, whatever results is authentically me.
Talk about a moment of clarity.
The biggest obstacle that stands between me and becoming a professional writer is me.
I don’t think I can ever seek payment for writing because I never want to minimize my words to mere product. I don’t know how I feel about letting someone else own what I say.
For me, this isn’t a hobby or a passtime. It’s a necessity. It’s how I survive. It’s how I make sense of the world around me. It’s the only place where I feel safe to just be without my baggage or anxieties or any outside factors tainting it.
It’s too pure to spoil with money.
To be in a situation where I’m told when, where, how to write sounds like the equivalent of prison. I’m used to just letting it flow free. Every time I start looking at places to submit freelance work and see phrases like “deadline” and “word count” I instantly freeze. I get choked by the worst writer’s block you can imagine because it feels like someone is trying to put me into a box.
These will never be just words on page for me. This is my soul. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to sell it.
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UPDATE
This post was inspired by the following course of events:
1. Having to ask CJ for gas money this morning because thanks to a past due car note (which is past due because of an unexpected trip to the doctor, which can get pretty effin expensive when you don’t have health insurance), funds are tight this week.
2. Rocking a hat all day because I’m in the midst of a shitty hair day because I had to cut the luxury of salon treatment to once a month.
3. Having to pray for serenity after having prayed for a way to jump through the phone and strangle the customer service rep @ Chase who refused to reverse an insufficient funds fee that was incurred because another rep told me two days earlier that my account would be fine as long as my check was direct deposited by 12am Thursday. (Which it was.) Being pissed because a) I NEVER dispute fees. Typically, I’m wrong and I just chalk it up and pay and b) If I had the $40 to give them just to prevent the inconvenience, I gladly would have just let the whole thing slide, but being that I’m a broke temp, $40 off my weekly budget is a big damn deal and c) $40 dollars of my budget is a big deal??
4. Venting about all of this to CJ, who says “Babe. Just pay your bills and don’t worry about the rest. I got you.” Not being able to appreciate the gesture because it still requires more decisions about money that I like to make. Which I have avoided in the past by making enough to cover responsibilities, fun, and the occasional “mishap.” And so his next logical suggestion was, “Well just get your hustle on and make money on the side doing what you do best.”
5. Being reminded of the last time I wrote for money. Working in PR at Wilberforce, trying to write alumni publications to convince alumni to “love” their alma mater with their dollars. Appealing to a group of individuals that didn’t take me seriously as a professional because I was fresh out of undergrad on behalf of an institution that I grew to increasingly hate by the day.
A few hours, some good blog comments, an India Arie song, a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a great Twitter post by the editor of Black Enterprise later, and I’ve got some perspective.
1. I’m probably being put through current money woes because not thinking about money is not the best way to acquire wealth. As irritating as this is, apprently it’s something that I need to do.
2. Just because I’m not ready to post my “Will write for food” sign just yet, that does not mean that I’ll never be published and paid and since (if I follow point #1) I don’t really need to write for cash just yet, it’s cool to keep it as a tool to vent, brand myself, and build an audience in preparation for a future writing career.
3. (Again contingent upon how quickly I master #1) My current situation is temporary and I’m blessed to have a guy in my life who’s willing to help out in the meantime. (However, that is an acknowledgement of a blessing, not an excuse to lean on it!)
4. When I do decide to start earning a paycheck for my prose, Eb’s advice will be a great place to start. (Not to knock anyone else’s wisdom because it was appreciated, but Eb’s words touched me.)
So basically, I can accept that at this point in my life, I’m not completely ready to write for anything other than my sanity. And that’s okay. It’s just one stage of the journey. I’ll get to the Promised Land in due time. God wouldn’t have it any other way.
Just a girl with a writing habit, using a blog to share my stories and passions. These are the tales, interests, and observations of the quiet nerd in the corner of the bookstore; the professional woman strutting down the street in slacks clutching her Blackberry; the dork in bed by 9pm on a Saturday night; and the B-girl in the middle of the dance floor getting down in her sensible shoes. Welcome to the world of The Skinny Black Girl.
