Changing Gears Here, 1

MUDDLED, CONFUSED, AND SILENCED

As a  newcomer to writing with a purpose, I've struggled to find my "voice". Over the last 18 months or so since I began this blog I've learned much and also been much confused. About matters of voice, message, purpose. About writing in general.

Wanting to "get serious" about writing and being of use with my writing, I attended my first writers' conference in the fall of 2010. It was a wonderful experience but 10 months later, approaching the 2011 conference, I finally began analyzing the confusion that had settled in upon me after the first one. It was a confusion that froze and silenced me.

Before, I just wrote. Afterwards, I felt a pressure to write "rightly" and pursue publication. One of the great things about writers' conferences is the opportunity to meet with editors and publishers in person, speeding past the regular slow process of submitting ideas, articles, and proposals. It's a real advantage. I knew I wasn't ready for it, but still, I fell under it's sneaky influence. I grew muddled and uncertain: of my voice, my content, direction and purpose. When I tried to write there was this outside "thing" hanging over me, pushing and prodding me, trying to shape my writing into something submittable. I stopped writing.

I'd won a scholarship to the 2011 conference, which greatly encouraged me. However, with nothing to show for the year --no articles or book proposals to present-- I wondered why I should even go. A desire to learn more and reunite with friends made last year were my only reasons. Those and a rather disheartened concept of perseverance.

As I reflected over my quiet, 10-month freak-out, I determined to relax about the next conference. I decided to expect nothing, bravely admit my wasted year, and see what God had for me. I'd felt Him whispering to me to forget all about the "world" and "business" of writing, and just write. I tried to shake off the pressures I'd adopted but I still felt them close by. I committed to attending the conference with open hands and one agenda: listening to God. I didn't know what workshops I'd attend, what continuing class I'd choose, or what awaited me. I would go a day early and spend the day alone with God and take the rest as it came.

I had a wonderful retreat day. It was cold but with a gorgeous blue sky and sunshine. I took photos, went to the prayer cabin, and spent the afternoon alone in my shared room. I listened, prayed, read, and jouralled, along with writing for the conference compilation book. I reviewed the workshop offerings and released all the "how-to" classes about writing instruction and publication. They are what created the pressure that snuck up on me last year and stole away my words. Though I love the details of improving the craft of writing, there's time for that later. I needed to gain my equilibrium and let God speak to my heart. I largely chose workshops with spiritual content addressing the life behind the writing, the reasons, the source. I was blessed. Hugely blessed.

Still....