Emotions are the bricks that build great fiction. It’s great to be in flow and feel happy and productive all the time.
But what if those feelings are completely turned upside down in the blink of an eye?
What if the passing of another human being becomes the great inhibiting force which so many of us writers fear?
I’m sorry to say that I have now lived this experience and can honestly say that it is the most vicious and destructive force of all. The core thought of what is the point? comes with a numbness that can only be described as soul destroying.
The numbness creeps into your bones and sinews. If you let it, it will paralyse you indefinitely and grind your dreams to dust.
I have had two months of wallowing in the dangerous realm of non-production. I have been an empty shell, working at my day-job and falling apart the moment my front door closes behind me. I have spent weekends locked away inside my house – wearing pyjamas like a suit of armour. A hopeless defence.
Here’s what I’ve learned. Grief is nothing like writer’s block. Grief is a deliberate, self-destructive state. It is the determination of helplessness. It is a deep black hole of floating in air and memories and not caring.
This is the first piece of writing I have completed since the ‘incident’ which is all I can allow myself to call it. I have decided that this curve ball will change nothing about my writing goals. I have lost time but have gained determination. I have gained strength.
Like Phoenix rising from the ashes, I am rising to the task of finishing to edit the work I intend to publish this year. And publish I shall.
I wish I could give you a handy list of how to go on writing through grief. But I have nothing. All I have is these words.