Writing Made Me Better
Now that I’ve thrown on my writer’s cloak, ALL my fears are finally gone.
“Writing was the last piece in the mirror holding me back from being my whole self.”
Have You Seen the Memes about Writing?
There’s one meme that comes to mind specifically. It’s the one how everyone seems to be a writer, yet so few people actually write. I’m not here to give you resources. I am a creature of scroll-stop-read-laugh-scroll, just like everyone else. Actually, I’m not being entirely truthful… I double-tap nearly everything. I’m a people pleaser. It has destroyed my algorithm.
Another meme comes to mind about how it’s one of the artists people claim to be yet don’t actually do. Few people who haven’t touched a guitar since high school would have the audacity to call themselves musicians. People who haven’t painted in years would not call themselves painters. Yet, people can not actively write for years, yet they’ll call themselves writers. Everyone wants to write a book. They just haven’t yet.
It’s ok to feel attacked. I did. Cue the “I feel seen!” comments with crying laughing emojis if you’re a millennial. I am shamelessly guilty of emojis. Use that as a reference for why I am not sorry if you feel attacked.
I have had an idea for a book since I was fifteen (it could be earlier, but fifteen just feels like the number everyone picks). Life, however, kept me from it. Excuses kept me from it. Not knowing where to start kept me from it. Never mind the fact many authors scream at aspiring authors to JUST WRITE. No, I would someday get around to writing it, just not today, not tomorrow, not this year, but someday I’d get to it. So writing was put in the pile of things to be done when the circumstances were just right, and Mercury was aligned (I’m a Virgo if you believe in those things).
The items not put on the back burner were traveling and financial independence, which thankfully kept me close with my dear friend. She is a writer. Always was.
A Pact of Sisterhood is Forged
I will never forget the day we promised each other that someday we’d be published. We were in her home office after a sleepover, and I was being my intrusive self who can literally sit for hours and talk if you let me. It was just before she kicked me out of the room because she had to work. Sipping her coffee, she giggled and said, “Let’s do it! Let’s get published!” I agreed. Being a firm believer in five-year plans, I said, “Yes! Today marks the day. Five years from now, I’ll be ready to start looking at being published.”
A pact of sisterhood was made.
She did it in three years.
Take this next bit, knowing I want nothing but success for other artists: man, was I jealous. I had dabbled in writing. Starting bits. Slowly crafting, but also all too happy to participate in Family Game Nights. I felt terrible for not holding up my end of the pact. The flame was lit, and I knew it was high time I actually got serious. Listen to the advice at last. Run myself into the ground to develop the habits that make writers, then learn to balance it with self-care to nurture my creativity.
Writing at Sea
Long story short, I worked 12 hours a day and wrote for the other six for four months. I was on a ship, so it was a unique situation, and I do not recommend it. Was I tired? Absolutely. Did it work? Yes. Even without a published piece, I feel ok calling myself a writer. The flame and discipline are now self-sustaining.
This is why I am now a better person… I have never felt more like myself.
Sure, before all of this, I was disciplined. I was able to weather setbacks and keep chugging. I could mobilize my energy and accomplish things. I needed all of those things to help me. They just feel different now. Like now that I’ve thrown on my writer’s cloak, ALL my fears are finally gone. It was the last piece in the mirror holding me back from being my whole self.
Putting on the Badge
The second I felt ok putting on the badge, everything changed. Suddenly, I’m taking up hobbies I’ve always wanted to. The shackles fell away. I love fantasy, and I’ll be damned if I don’t let my heart soar with the delight of it.
I’d never gone to a Renaissance Faire because I wanted to dress up, yet never had the time/energy. Not anymore! I’ve been to two this year alone.
I bought a sword. Why? Excuse you, but my fantasy-loving heart wanted one.
That whole costume bit? I’ve taken up leather making because I want to be a knight. Even better, this character is a character of Lore surrounding my story. Take that.
I’m drawing again because I want my book to be illustrated. Soon I’ll be taking up map making.
I joined the Society of Creative Anachronism. How do you love medieval arts, reenactment, and literally read your writing in an English accent and not commit time to preserve these things? The accent will be alright, and everything else.
You best believe I’m going to take up archery, heavy fighting, equestrian, blacksmithing, scrollwork, and whatever else my kingdom has to offer and needs.
Fun fact: I learned how to make chain armor many years ago. I’m taking that up again, too.
How people around me benefit from my writing, too.
I made my son’s costume this year for Halloween. I’ve spent literal years thinking I could never be that person. After I had him, I never thought I could be that parent. Surprise. I am now. Boom.
One of the most important things to me when I became a mother was to remain my own person. I am a firm believer in presenting a whole person to your child. Nothing is worse for both parties than to realize there’s nothing to offer outside of that dynamic. I was able to provide travel and resilience before. Some mechanical prowess. Sports. A love of learning. But all of those things felt hobbled. Now? Son, I can literally offer you the world. You’ll have the space to be anybody you want to be. Your mother is fearless.
Fantasy Author Still Living in Reality
I am still terrified of the very real things, like finances, health, sudden accidents. But the silly fear of failure or not being good enough? Those are most certainly gone. Instead, the energy wasted on those things goes into being the person I have always wanted to be.
I’ve done everything for fifteen-year-old me since my mid-twenties crisis.
Honestly, I’m really proud of the person she always was, and I’m proud of the person she is today. She was the most terrified brave person I knew. In saying that, I’m glad I never gave up on my dream. I am also telling you to not give up on yours.
Writing did that. That’s really stinking cool.
Oh, and I’ve met some amazing people along the way.
If you’re interested in checking out my broad array of hobbies and projects, I post about them often on Instagram @ mpiper_writes. In addition, I put out a monthly newsletter on my website. This elusive book is part of a trilogy called Sonder’s Song, and book one is coming in early 2022. The train isn’t stopping, and you’re so welcome to hop on. You can do that thing, whatever it is.
