2018 wasn't the first year I ran away from writing. It was, however, one of the few where I understood from the outset exactly why I was no longer able to write anything, any time, in any way.
I am a perfectionist. And not the good kind of perfectionist. Not the kind that fiddles with already great things until they're mercilessly wonderful, and the primary consequence is that much less gets done than ought to have been done. I am the sort of perfectionist who realizes that perfection is impossible and so, rather shrewdly, never even starts.
Or more accurately, I suppose, I am not a perfectionist, so much as I'm a normal person, with normal talents, who cannot stand the thought of creating below normal things and setting them loose in the world. I'm terrified of falling short of even the most meager of expectations.
Normally this is just a little, ugly twinge of a feeling that makes my stomach lurch and my palms sweat whenever I send my creations out into the world, where judgment happens. It's a thing I get past, or maybe just a thing I don't notice all that much. This year, though, it's been THE thing. Every blank page and passing creative thought has been immediately consumed by this feeling that, no, actually, maybe, definitely don't do that, that won't be very good at all, will it?
It's been crummy, but it's been - at the very least - consistent with my usual neuroses, the ones I've had for as long as I've known that other people had opinions and oh my god what are their opinions of me?? In other words, it's just a part of me - a part of me I've done a bad job managing in 2018.
Which leads us to 2019. I'm not one for resolutions. Resolutions tend to fail, after all, and that's a thing I seek to avoid (as noted above). So I'm not making a resolution or a pledge or a commitment. I'm just saying that 2018 kinda blew (from a writing perspective). And really, through no effort of my own, 2019 will likely be better. Because I do like writing. And I would prefer to have written and had finished things to show, whether they were all that good or not.
My pledge, which I am not making, because I just said I wouldn't be, is to make messy, unpolished things. Like this blog post. I will make things and I will think very little about whether they are good or bad. I will just make and hit send or publish or GO and the things will be free. I think that'll be good for me. I think that feels right.
Of course, I say bullshit like this all the time. This very website was founded on the power of vaguely hopeful bullshit that ultimately amounted to nothing at all. But it's still worth saying. If for no other reason than to be saying anything at all. Because that's as good a start as I can manage right now. Just words on a page. Barely edited. No one's best work. Still, good enough.
Publish post.