On Leaving our Comfort Zones

Twice now the vet has ordered us not to use a collar on Sophie. Wearing a collar is safe! Collars only come off at bathtime. And that harness feels so strange.

She is currently fitted with her second—hated—harness. This morning she opted to not take a walk at all rather than put it on.

But life without walks is dull. Sophie has to put up with that harness just to have fun, so first she plays games with us—showing she’s interested—until she finally chooses to go on an exciting smelly walk rather than sniff the same old yard.

Like Sophie, I prefer security. Writing is safe when I’m immersed in worlds of my own making. I’ve even learned to be okay with sending out queries to agents, since nothing scary has ever yet resulted.

But there comes a day when nothing works the way it used to. Writers’ block is hitting your head against a brick wall rather than admit there’s something wrong in the direction your work is going. Right now I’m facing a different kind of block—that of having created a wealth of writings going nowhere. 

I’m drowning in five and a half novels, all clamoring for attention. It’s time to put on a new harness. It’s time to set one of them free into the world. 

I’ve decided to self-publish the first of my three science fiction novels (for middle-grade to young teenager.) With that decision, my life got a little brighter, even though it also increased in complications.

First is the learning curve to self-publishing. Then, the manuscript requires a read-through and lots of little changes, including finding that particular misspelled word I was told of, but which word? 

Every novel has a shape of its own, sometimes a fast-rising triangle to the story’s climax, sometimes a deep valley with, the reader hopes, a way back to a solid foundation. So do our lives have shapes. My life has been a series of plateaus, with dips in-between. I’ve been sliding downhill for too long.

One writing workshop I attended included this particularly useful piece of wisdom:

You don’t lose creativity when you get older but you need to learn how to take risks.

It’s time to take risks again. Harnesses, whether for work or for walks, can constrict. But sometimes that’s what it takes to regain enthusiasm. If Sophie can turn that harness into a game, maybe I can too.