I have several different personal essays on the go in my drafts folder at the moment—eight and a half to be exact.
There’s one about expectations, and another on embracing co-existence with chronic illness, one on acceptance and a half-baked one on faith and spirituality.
Reviewing all of them over the last few days trying to decide which one I’m most ready to publish and refine, I’m having trouble deciding.
I’m reluctant to publish any of them.
I tend to go by ‘feel’ when making decisions these days. How does my body feel when I am about to decide? It doesn’t matter if it’s something big, like should I sign up for a challenging online course, or small, like which essay to publish.
Why? Because I lost myself for a long time when I ignored my feelings and the signals my body was giving me. So, I tend to err on the side of caution now. Although, the pendulum may have swung too far in this direction.
I was on a call with editor
yesterday and told her my dilemma. She asked me what I was struggling with in particular? Was it…a) I wasn’t ready to release the essays yet, or
b) the essays weren’t ready to go out yet.
I said it’s about 50/50, but in reviewing them this morning, it’s likely more a) I’m not ready.
I’m struggling to write about an experience, so I’m writing around it.
I circle it, like a distrustful cat, watching it like prey, as it stays stock still in the middle of the page, staring back at me, pretending it doesn’t see me, yet taunting me.
Which often means, it’s too soon for me to publish because I need more time for it to percolate.
I enjoy writing personal essays. There is vulnerability and reflection involved.
For example, if I feel a certain way when I experience a particular event, do I still feel this way a month, two or more later? Will that change over time? Should I wait so I can embrace the full experience from beginning to end? How much time between the event and the writing do I need to be sure I’m fully on the other side of said event to capture it accurately? Does it matter?
Personal essays take time to write because they need space to breathe once they’re on paper. To properly come alive and feel ready. Not rushed out the door to meet an arbitrary publishing deadline.
Like in the fairy tale Goldilocks, when after much fussing, she finally declares the third bed she tries to be “just right,” I’m waiting for my body to signal it’s go-time because it feels right.
Perhaps this is naïve because when is anything perfect? Sometimes you just make the leap. I’ve often leapt before I look. Spoken before I’ve thought. Reacted before listening.
Today, I’m going to practise something different. I’m hanging out at the edge for a bit and listening to my body, waiting on the right time.
How will I know? I will feel it. And then… it’s go time.
Keep (un)Learning. KVB. xo
What about you…
Do you need time for your writing to percolate?
If so, when do you know for sure it’s time to hit publish and release it to the world?
Have you ever leapt before you looked? What happened? Good or bad?
Next week: I’m excited to bring you my interview with
of Situation Normal. We talk about his early career as a lawyer, porn (not what you think), writing groups, being funny and what the biggest thing he’s had to unlearn in life so far.
I so resonate with this. I have a few files. For me it's everything you mentioned but also the timing intuition. I ask my self if it's good timing to drop that piece. There is definitely a collective consciousness on Substack and sometimes I'm inspired to drop a piece because there's a similar topic or theme in the ether.
And then sometimes I say, Never. This one sucks.
When the gut says -"that's my story and I'm stickin' to it" (Colin Ray) that's when that bird is ready to fly. I may be over-simplifying here but, if it doesn't feel right and the piece doesn't capture your life experience, the bird should stay in the nest.