Dragon Journal (
dragonjournal) wrote2024-03-20 11:20 am
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Trust your words
So one thing we all share is not just the want to write, but the trepidation that happens when we stare at the blank page with its blinking cursor or its blank line. We see it and sometimes, something within us freezes and we stare at it. Nothing happens, until we unclench, thaw out and let the words flow.
Easy to say, not so easy to do right?
Well, here’s what you have to do: Trust yourself. That’s right, put trust in your mind and in your creativity, and let the words flow.
Okay, now that I’ve told you everything you already know (and you’re rolling your eyes), let me tell you a few things you might need to hear, or haven’t heard yet.
Here we go:
Trust is hard. (not groundbreaking, I know.) Trust in yourself? People make a living telling people they can trust themselves. They are usually wonderful people (I stan a good counselor). But I’m here to tell you that trust in yourself, in your words, is invaluable, and you can do it.
Trust your subconscious. Let it have free reign over your fingers to tell the story that’s within you. Sure, you have an outline and thoughts, but your subconscious, that part of you that, yes, houses that inner editor, knows what it’s doing. You just need to let go of your stranglehold on it. (Keep that damned inner editor locked in its cage, though. It hasn’t earned the right to be let loose.) But that part of you, where the dreams come from, and the thoughts begin to percolate? Let it off its leash.
See; that unicorn that shitsrainbowsideas needs a chance to poke at the keyboard or at the blank page. Sure, it’s a horse with a sharp horn on its head, but look at those hooves. Those hooves are ready to write. And they are ready to write for you.
But you need to trust that unicorn. Trust that one-horned horse to know where the story is going. I’m a pantser, but even if you’re a planner, let the horse at the plan and trust it to follow the plan. Think of it as a lunge line. You’re letting it go out there, but you’ve still got a hand on it, and can still rein it if it gets too far out there. That’s where the trust comes in. Sure, you could release the lunge line and keep it in line, with a trailing rope, but I don’t think you’re quite to that point. Baby steps, okay?
So, now we’ve got the unicorn on a lunge line. (And why this is all equine metaphor, I have no idea, but it is and I’m rolling with it.) We’re keeping a steady hand on the lunge line, letting the unicorn go. Sometimes it trots, sometimes it canters. And sometimes it bucks and bam, new thought process on the current WIP. It’s okay. We’re trusting the unicorn, remember? The unicorn is being trusted not to skewer us with that razor sharp horn. It’s just doing its nice, controlled circles around us, letting us get on with the business of writing down the words.
But, if your hand is too hard on the line, or you pull too hard, that unicorn is going to throw some wrench into the works, or worse come up lame. That’s why you have to be gentle. You have to be careful. The unicorn is a persnickety animal and will throw a shoe the minute you believe you’ve got complete control and this is not a mythical animal who might just run you through.
So, we have a good hand on the line, and we’re letting the unicorn do its thing. And the unicorn is going steadily. But what happens if you put a pole on the ground? Now what? Again, we’re going to put our faith in that unicorn to bound right over that pole. To pick up its feet and keep going. Now that pole can be any number of things: real life (sucks), work (doubly sucks), emergency (sucks to the nth degree). But see, we have to trust that when we get back to the writing, the unicorn is still going to be on the end of that line. We just have to pick it up again.
Now, as I stated before: The unicorn is a persnickety beast. So, sometimes, you’re going to have to go into the back paddock and chase it down, while it runs ahead and laughs at you. (Real horses do this; I fully believe a mythical one would as well, probably more than a real one.) But, if you have patience and give yourself a little grace, you can get that halter back on that horse and get back to the very serious job of working the lunge line (aka writing).
Again, you have to believe that the unicorn is going to be there. You have to trust that when you want it, the unicorn will step up, ready to work. But you also have to take care of it. This is a mutual relationship. The way you take care of the unicorn? Clean its hooves (focus yourself), curry combing (hiding that inner editor away), and feed it. What would it eat? Yummy, yummy research, or media, of all stripes. Watching that werewolf TikTok story give you ideas? Excellent [insert Mr. Burns HERE]
Now, I can’t promise that the unicorn won’t run off, find a stallion, and settle down somewhere you can’t reach it. But that’s okay. That’s when you start training the gryphon you have in your stable for just such an event.
What all this equineness boils down to is this: You know this unicorn. You’ve been through the trenches together. You’ve had your ups and downs, but there’s a good mutual respect and you can let it have a little slack, as a treat.
You’re doing okay. You’re getting those words down, and things are going to be okay.
Now, don’t you have a unicorn to work with?
Easy to say, not so easy to do right?
Well, here’s what you have to do: Trust yourself. That’s right, put trust in your mind and in your creativity, and let the words flow.
Okay, now that I’ve told you everything you already know (and you’re rolling your eyes), let me tell you a few things you might need to hear, or haven’t heard yet.
Here we go:
Trust is hard. (not groundbreaking, I know.) Trust in yourself? People make a living telling people they can trust themselves. They are usually wonderful people (I stan a good counselor). But I’m here to tell you that trust in yourself, in your words, is invaluable, and you can do it.
Trust your subconscious. Let it have free reign over your fingers to tell the story that’s within you. Sure, you have an outline and thoughts, but your subconscious, that part of you that, yes, houses that inner editor, knows what it’s doing. You just need to let go of your stranglehold on it. (Keep that damned inner editor locked in its cage, though. It hasn’t earned the right to be let loose.) But that part of you, where the dreams come from, and the thoughts begin to percolate? Let it off its leash.
See; that unicorn that shits
But you need to trust that unicorn. Trust that one-horned horse to know where the story is going. I’m a pantser, but even if you’re a planner, let the horse at the plan and trust it to follow the plan. Think of it as a lunge line. You’re letting it go out there, but you’ve still got a hand on it, and can still rein it if it gets too far out there. That’s where the trust comes in. Sure, you could release the lunge line and keep it in line, with a trailing rope, but I don’t think you’re quite to that point. Baby steps, okay?
So, now we’ve got the unicorn on a lunge line. (And why this is all equine metaphor, I have no idea, but it is and I’m rolling with it.) We’re keeping a steady hand on the lunge line, letting the unicorn go. Sometimes it trots, sometimes it canters. And sometimes it bucks and bam, new thought process on the current WIP. It’s okay. We’re trusting the unicorn, remember? The unicorn is being trusted not to skewer us with that razor sharp horn. It’s just doing its nice, controlled circles around us, letting us get on with the business of writing down the words.
But, if your hand is too hard on the line, or you pull too hard, that unicorn is going to throw some wrench into the works, or worse come up lame. That’s why you have to be gentle. You have to be careful. The unicorn is a persnickety animal and will throw a shoe the minute you believe you’ve got complete control and this is not a mythical animal who might just run you through.
So, we have a good hand on the line, and we’re letting the unicorn do its thing. And the unicorn is going steadily. But what happens if you put a pole on the ground? Now what? Again, we’re going to put our faith in that unicorn to bound right over that pole. To pick up its feet and keep going. Now that pole can be any number of things: real life (sucks), work (doubly sucks), emergency (sucks to the nth degree). But see, we have to trust that when we get back to the writing, the unicorn is still going to be on the end of that line. We just have to pick it up again.
Now, as I stated before: The unicorn is a persnickety beast. So, sometimes, you’re going to have to go into the back paddock and chase it down, while it runs ahead and laughs at you. (Real horses do this; I fully believe a mythical one would as well, probably more than a real one.) But, if you have patience and give yourself a little grace, you can get that halter back on that horse and get back to the very serious job of working the lunge line (aka writing).
Again, you have to believe that the unicorn is going to be there. You have to trust that when you want it, the unicorn will step up, ready to work. But you also have to take care of it. This is a mutual relationship. The way you take care of the unicorn? Clean its hooves (focus yourself), curry combing (hiding that inner editor away), and feed it. What would it eat? Yummy, yummy research, or media, of all stripes. Watching that werewolf TikTok story give you ideas? Excellent [insert Mr. Burns HERE]
Now, I can’t promise that the unicorn won’t run off, find a stallion, and settle down somewhere you can’t reach it. But that’s okay. That’s when you start training the gryphon you have in your stable for just such an event.
What all this equineness boils down to is this: You know this unicorn. You’ve been through the trenches together. You’ve had your ups and downs, but there’s a good mutual respect and you can let it have a little slack, as a treat.
You’re doing okay. You’re getting those words down, and things are going to be okay.
Now, don’t you have a unicorn to work with?