I Will Not Give Up by Kristi West
I attended my very first Breathe Writers Conference several weeks ago, and I’ll just say this:
It. Was. Fantastic.
I brought my daughter, and like a couple of dry sponges, we absorbed everything we possibly could. By the time that weekend was over, we were overflowing with information, ideas, and inspiration. Personally, I could not wait to get home to my computer. I just knew ideas and words would be pouring out of me so fast my fingers wouldn’t be able to keep up with them.
Then I got home.
Life came rushing in on me. There were bills to be paid, errands to be run, chores to be done. Not to mention, a family to be fed. Every day. Multiple times a day. (What’s up with that?)
And, suddenly, I realized I wasn’t writing. I would “write” in my head as I was doing something – anything – else, but those words were never making it to my computer screen, notebook, or even my journal. The overwhelming details of life started to weigh on me, and I couldn’t help but feel let down. So I sunk into a deep, dank funk that I’ve been struggling to climb out of ever since.
But I am struggling. My knees may be bruised, my knuckles may be bloodied, but that just proves that I haven’t given up. I’m still trying.
A lot of times it feels like I end up sliding back farther than I’ve climbed. But I keep on climbing.
I made a commitment to participate in NaNoWriMo this month. I even told the ladies in my Sunday School class at church about it, and they agreed to pray for me and hold me accountable. (Can I just tell you how grateful I am for those ladies? They are simply wonderful.)
I sat down with the notebook I got just to make notes and jot down ideas for that book, and I stared at its blank pages for far too long before giving in and getting up to do something else.
I had an idea this morning, and I made myself stop for a minute and actually get it down.
I argued with myself that that idea has been written before, by far better writers than me, so maybe I should just forget this whole thing and go do something useful, like build nests for homeless birds.
It’s a constant back-and-forth, climbing-and-sliding struggle, but I know I’m not alone. I’ve heard and read what others have to say about the ridiculous, crazy, wonderful cycle that makes up the writing life, and I start to think that, maybe, I’ll be able to do this, after all.
So, here I am. Writing a blog post. Thinking about the book I will write next month. Climbing one step more out of my funk.
I will not give up.
I. Am. A. Writer.
Kristi West is a wife, mom, crocheter, and voracious reader. She’s also a writer interested to see where her words might take her.