Writing on an emotional level

“Emotions drive my writing. If I don’t feel it, I can’t write it.” --SW

This past week I returned to writing the book I’d put aside last winter. Emotions drive my writing. If I can’t feel it, I can’t write it. This puts my writing style a little outside the box for conventional publishers. I feel my way through the writing, and I write in first person. 

I have a couple of theories of why I’m compelled to write this way. 

1. 1. My goal is to be honest in my writing. I don’t want to hide or sugar coat. I want to tell it like it is, like it happened from my point of view. 
2. 2. These are my stories, my feelings in the moment, yet I also believe many people have similar emotions. Perhaps, in my daring greatly to be vulnerable, I can say what others may not be able to express.
3. 3. This emotional honestly is a release. By my telling my truth, I am not letting issues stew inside.
4. 4. I feel better when I’m able to express my truth.
5. 5. The writing, and seeing the written word of my feelings, helps me better understand myself and the human condition. It helps me figure things out … or just tell my story.
6. 6. A final belief/hope is that whatever lessons I learn from life might be passed to others or at least help others find a key to their own answers.

It’s not perfect. I’m not perfect. This doesn’t solve problems, but in my quest to live life whole-heartedly, it’s one more aspect in standing up for who I am, for daring greatly to speak my truth, and further work towards being a better person.

As for my book? I continue to struggle to figure out how to present my vision. Every time I think I have it figured out, and I’m writing the book I want to write, self-doubt sets in. The over thinking confuses me and my brain spirals around. 

The hardest part is not having an advisor/mentor because there’s no one I know doing it like I do. I rely on prayer and meditation and hope when I get those flashes of inspiration, I can get it written down before it bursts into a cloud of smoke and disappears.

I believe. I’ll get it.