Welcome to writing update #4 – this update is quite overdue, given that a month has passed since the last one, and it sat in my draft for two weeks before I came around to posting it. I wanted to wait for something more tangible to report on, but progress, especially when it comes to the creative field, is not something defined in black or white terms, as you might imagine. I’m a person who easily jumps into extremes. To me, my creations should either be something genius or they are a total flop, not worth wasting time on. But I have been trying something different on this journey, for a change. Progress is what you make of it. It could be that occasional elusive feeling of satisfaction, after you have finally written something, or the mere fact that you keep the thought of writing and creativity alive in your mind on the way to work, or when you do the dishes, or even in your most disillusioned moments.
Can you define a day as entirely good or entirely bad? Just like the moon is constantly changing its phases, a person can go through various states in a single day – peace, impatience, anger, calmness, creativity, happiness, pride, disappointment, productiveness – a whole universe can fit in a person’s mind (or at least for those with mood swings). Hence, a day cannot be simply defined as either completely good or completely bad because it consists of a mix of good and bad moments. Humans are way too complex and emotional creatures for straightforward definitions. Similarly, creative progress is also a more nuanced and abstract concept because it comprises all those struggles and endeavors, some entirely useless, some creating real results and momentum, but all inevitably leading somewhere and having an impact. What matters most is what you define as progress and what pushes you forward.
But to move further with this update, a million-dollar question: Did I make some progress with my writing journey? Yes, I dare say I did because I achieved three things these past weeks – (1) I wrote something, conjured it up out of thin air without planning to, (2) I found peace escaping into the imaginary world more and more often, a long forgotten feeling, (3) I reflected and defined my writing identity as my guiding compass on this perilous creative journey.
To start with, the latest and most exciting thing – I wrote an 800-word premise/summary for my first mystery myth-inspired short story in years. In principle, I try to follow my elaborate step-by-step plan, which I developed over the course of several months this year (regardless of whether the steps are too realistic or not). But every once in a while, the pantser in me cannot sit still and just comes up with a storyline. A lot of times, these ideas get lost in my very busy, buzzing mind, but this specific one has been buzzing for a while, so I finally decided to write it down (on my notes on my phone). It’s not perfect; it does need further brainstorming, but this has been the most tangible and vivid storyline the repressed creative side of my mind could come up with in the past 5+ years. What’s more impressive is that I had such a peaceful and fun feeling from it, from the whole process of thinking and defining it. For a bit, I just allowed myself to believe this exercise could amount to a real story that I could write and maybe one day share with the world. It did the trick nicely. I hadn’t had such an escape (although brief) in years; it brought back warm feelings from simpler times when I would sit at my desk on Saturdays and regularly visit the imaginary world, free of charge.
If I’m very honest, though, it wasn’t an entirely out-of-the-blue event, although I had no expectations of coming up with as much as a story premise (especially not before finishing those character sheets first). I’m not underestimating myself here, but I know what it is to expect the impossible. In reality, this was the result of some happy little micro changes happening in an otherwise structured and strict repetitive routine. I have been trying to invite creativity back into my life, and it’s nice to see that something seems to be working. These little things make all the difference, believe me. For example, while previously I used to spend my commutes to work on a Monday morning dreading the grind and what new surprises would await me during the week, blind to everything around but my turbulent pounding thoughts, I now catch myself more and more often just looking around, absorbing the changing scenery, imagining a character and a scene here and there. I don’t know if it’s just another coping mechanism, maybe that’s what creativity is in the end, or maybe the effects of autumn as the season of change. But it’s comforting to know this exists in me.
It’s also helping to practice writing, of any sort or length, as much as possible. Mind you, this sentence comes from a person who has always struggled with writing consistency and habits. But I really find that the blog and these periodic updates are golden for these purposes. If nothing else, it makes you more attuned to your own thoughts and voice. I specifically noticed how much easier and smoother my thoughts and expressions flowed after I spent some consistent time after work writing my last update post. At some point, when waking up at 7.20 am for work as usual, instead of scrolling to wake my tired brain, I just sat down on the couch in the living room and wrote small paragraph ideas for this post. At the cost of being a bit late for work, but you can’t have it all, and let’s face it, I would gladly repeat it.
A tweak of mindset was an important little step, too. That was especially relevant when defining my writing identity – a nice exercise which I will tell you a bit about at the end of this post. Something seemingly simple – just deciding what you like to write, what stories move you, and defining your genre and themes – took me several weeks. In the end, this exercise was the key to understanding how my whole creative process works within me, what really drives me to do it, and what makes it so important. When approaching this at first, I thought it would be easy, and it would take… what? A day? A week, maybe? I ended up so focused on this simple task, wanting to define it once and for all, in a perfect way that would remain for a lifetime (crazy, right?), transformed it in my head into some kind of unbeatable leviathan. Yes, your mind is that powerful; it can play these ugly tricks.
I was blocked for two weeks or so because of such thinking (or maybe because it was flu/covid season and I was trying to survive, a bit of both probably). Eventually, I realized that any life-changing result achieved is just a mere consequence of consistent repetitive actions (like the water that drips for a million years and creates meter-high stalactites in the cave). I asked myself – okay, say you write and publish the book, what then? How would you feel? What would you do? Knowing myself, the answer was only one – I’d just move on and write another and entirely forget everything I went through for this one. I wouldn’t swoon too much over completing it. Life for me is just moving forward – a step, and a next step, and the next. I’d want to just write something else – because my interest lies in doing something new and exciting, something different and various. So, if I would so easily move on from such an achievement, why was I then not moving on at present? Why not apply the same mindset to these tasks at hand? Complete them and move on, write the lines and move on. It’s what got me out of the wrong thinking pattern this month. Of course, it’s important to appreciate the process and be grounded and realistic about how far you have come; it’s not all eyes on the prize, but such realizations come at the end, once you’re done and not before you have even begun.
What about my writing identity now? Isn’t that a tangible progress event worth reporting on? When I first started formulating and structuring this post, I thought of focusing entirely on that. But given how much I have already bored you with, it might be wise to make a separate post for this process. We first must realize the little steps we take before we take the big leap. If I need to summarize in short what the result of this little exercise is, it would look something like this:
I (strive to) write emotionally relatable mystery adventure stories with a sprinkle of mythical and fantasy elements. These are tales of imperfect heroes facing destiny, fear, and love, uncovering truths about themselves and the world. My writing is a blend of lyrical reflections and cinematic action, realism, and mystique. It invites readers to feel, connect, and remember long after the story ends.
To tell the truth here, it feels scary to write this in a post read by others, or even acknowledge it in front of myself; it’s something deeply personal about my writing and creativity, which was difficult to realize and define. But if this method or my ramblings help others define this elusive realm for themselves, then I’m more than happy to share. You can expect to hear more about my process of defining a writing identity in my next writing update.
What does progress mean to you regarding your creativity? How does your writing identity manifest? Do you sit and write often, or do you struggle with the infamous writer’s block? As always, feel free to let me know if you can relate (or not).
Until next time,
D.D.N.
The Sunlight Writer 