A friend was trying to finish his novel.
‘So many grammatical errors,’ he moaned. ‘So many mistakes.’
He worked so hard that he wept. It would never be perfect. It would never be good enough.
All this effort, two days before he was due to be married.
There is perfectionism, and there is timing.
Perfectionism is a disease I suffer from myself. It has blocked me for years. Nothing can ever be good enough.
I set my standards so high, I never fail to fail. And then I look at what I have failed to do, and tell myself I am useless, and that I will never finish anything. Without noticing (conveniently) that I have set myself up for the perfect fall.
I am perfect at this.
So it is with this blog. It had to be perfect. It had to be faultless.
Never mind that I have a serious chronic illness that regularly prevents me from leaving the house, which affects my cognitive function to the extent that at times I can neither read nor write, nor understand what is said to me.
The blog still had to be perfect. And I had to post three times a week. Regardless.
Regardless of my health, or looking after elderly, sick parents, or my husband’s workload, or my marriage, or the weather, or having to attend friends’ weddings, or making time for much-needed holidays, or anything else that comprises having a life.
Add in the blog and perfectionism and you have a recipe for disaster. Or at least a very poorly blogger.
This is as insane as my friend trying to perfect his novel two days before one of the most important and stressful days of his life. (And happiest, lest we forget.)
Sometimes, you have to sit down and recognise that perfectionism is a disease created by Nigel. Sometimes you have to stop, and realise you haven’t been very realistic about what you can achieve.
And you have to move the bar.
Perfectionism and timing have combined to create the perfect storm in my life right now. I have been going through a bout of severe illness, and just at the start of August, the busiest month of my year so far. My mother is coming to stay for a week. Friends are getting married, and babies are being welcomed into the clan. The garden needs watering, and I have a craving to write original fiction that I have not felt in many months. With limited energy, and limited time, I can only do so much.
Conclusion: this blog cannot be perfect. It only has to be good enough.
It only has to be here to encourage you, dear reader, on your own journey of writing and creative discovery. It only has to be witness to my own creative process, as I try to navigate a way through illness and into producing a novel that will make my soul sing, and make you turn the page with delight. It doesn’t need to be the be-all and end-all of teaching writing – there are plenty of other people who can do that so much better than me.
Here are my good enough dreams:
I want to write that novel. I want to write an ebook on journaling for you, too.
WARNING: RIDICULOUS DREAM SHARE ALERT
I want to make a collectors’ edition of my novel, illustrated with my own art, for you to buy. Yes, I know, it’s crazy, but it’s something that is calling me, and somehow I know I have to follow its siren song. And you are supposed to share your creative dreams, aren’t you, to help make them happen? So I am sharing my dream with you to give it some karmic weight. (Yeah, I believe in this stuff. Bear with me.)
I also want to be well, have a holiday, enjoy some quality time with my mum, have a happy marriage (i.e. see my husband occasionally), water the garden and, well, have a life, really.
And I don’t want either perfectionism or bad timing to get in the way.
So I’ll make a deal with you:
I’m going to blog twice a week, instead of three times.
Sometimes I might only manage once, but if I do, I want you to know that the time I haven’t spent writing a blog post for you has been spent either a) getting well or, b) working on a creative project like my novel. Because the blog can’t take up all my creative energy. That just doesn’t make sense. The blog is not the purpose, it is secondary to the purpose. The purpose is the writing.
There was a time, this time last year, when I thought I would never have the courage to set up this blog. Right now, I am scared that I will never have either an ebook or a novel to offer through it. This time next year, I hope I’ll have proved at least one of those fears wrong. In the meantime, I am moving the goalposts, lowering the bar, and whatever other clichés you care to insert.
I hope that you will stick with me. I hope that you will share my journey, and tell me about yours too. I hope that we can learn this together, that we can kick Nigel into touch and fill our lives with creative joy.