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Writing for me, like many others, is a deeply personal experience. When I sit to put pen to paper a part of myself pours onto the page. This process, however, potentially carries a darker side, one resulting in panic attacks, depression, and anxiety.
NANO this year reminded me of this lesson. As I pushed to stick to my plan, get as far ahead as I can early, I neglected the necessary self care. And so I sit here now, on the verge of a mental break because I didn’t do what was asked of me. And while I am grateful for the revelations bestowed upon me by my characters, the confirmation of their plan, I am left troubled and unsure of where to go next.
As a pantser, I sometimes believe in allowing things to come as they should. I blindly trust the process opening myself to the lack of compassion and abuse deemed necessary by my characters for them to tell their stories their way. There is not balancing act. No truce. It is their way or THEIR WAY!
So now as their puppet I sit here with both confirmation and questions. Do I continue to allow them to forge the path? Do I bow entirely to their whims? Can I survive this mental assault in tact? I do not know.
But what I do know is this. To my characters I have this to say:
I get it now. I know why you would not allow me to write the other story until you told me this one. That I could not have imagined the power of this character until you revealed her origins. I too am proud of her. I was wrong and now I see that. So I wait for your next revelation, that next ah ha moment so that I can tell your stories, the way you require them to be told.