To Those Who Have Quit, or Want To (A Love Letter)
Or even those of you who are just stalled in your writing
Dear lovies,
I’ve known several people who have quit writing. Shocking, right? I can’t imagine such a thing and maybe you can’t either. Or not. Maybe at this very moment you are sitting at your desk, staring off into space thinking that it’s time for you to stop pursuing this stupid dream of writing.
Should you or shouldn’t you?
I’ll tell you about the people I’ve known who quit. One of them was a woman I was in a critique group with long ago, so long ago I’ve forgotten her name. I do remember one thing about her, though: she thought writing was going to be her ticket to fame and fortune.
But you’re not that deluded, are you?
And then there was one of my students, also from long ago, though more recent than the aforementioned quitter. He pestered me and pestered me to tell him if he was a good writer. I usually mumbled something along the lines of, it’s not whether or not you are good, per se, it’s really about whether or not your vision is on the page in a way the reader can recognize. Which is actually quite true and is something I have uttered many a time to students and clients. But this particular student had a unique spin on his writing.
“I will only do it if you can guarantee me that my writing is good and I’ll get published,” he told me.
I couldn’t and didn’t. Because, spoiler alert, he wasn’t. And with an attitude like that he would never be. He said he had many other potential interests. Tying flies for fishing was one, as I recall. And if he couldn’t be good at writing, he’d just move on. And so he did. And I imagine he is out in the world tying flies somewhere. Because, and no offense to fly tyers here, excelling at tying flies is probably easier than excelling at writing.
But you’re not that, um, arrogant, either, are you?
I didn’t think so. But if neither of those stories have convinced you, let me try another tack. Let’s talk about what you’ll miss if you quit writing
Things like:
—That feeling you get after a productive writing session of having a delicious secret, which is your characters and the world you are creating.
—The satisfaction of knowing you are improving as you keep at it.
—Experiencing being in the moment as you notice a special something, a glimmer in the midst of your day, and make note of it for your writing.
—The pleasure of meeting up with writing friends, the most interesting people in the world!
—The thrill of publication day! (If this hasn’t happened for you yet, imagine it.)
—Looking up from your computer at the clock and realizing that a couple of hours have gone by while you were immersed in your other world.
—The aha moment when you figure out what was missing from your scene.
—The delight of finding the exact right word to make your sentence sing.
—The warm fuzzies that come when a reader tells you how much they liked your story.
—Your eagerness to get out of bed in the morning because you know you get to write that day.
You’d miss all those things something fierce if you quit writing, wouldn’t you? I’ll answer that for you. Yes, yes, you would. Because I know you. And I know you’re writing because you love it. Because you have stories inside you begging to get out. Because you can’t not write.
And I’ll wager that this feeling you have right now—the one of discouragement, of lack of confidence, of despair—is temporary. Honestly, it is. And once you get that epiphany that makes the whole structure of your novel work, or figure out your proto’s motivation, or write a description that perfectly captures the autumn scene outside your window, you’ll happily back at it again.
Love, light, and good writing,
Charlotte
P.S. If you are feeling despair or discouragement about your writing, hit reply and tell me about it. I’ll do my best to help you find a way forward. Seriously, I’m here for you.
P.P.S. What would you miss if you quit writing?
Articles and Resources
Why you’re scrolling when you want to write.
5 tips for doing research for your novel
How to make good use of secondary characters
Excellent insight into an agent’s approach to meeting writers at conferences
Books
The Honey Witch, by Sydney J. Shields. Still on a cozy fantasy kick. Maybe it’s the time of year, or the upcoming election, or the general awfulness of things happening in the world, but I’m all in for the charm of other worlds. I’ve only just started this one, but I’m enjoying it. The author says she wrote it in a month (of course I know that was a first draft) and I’m totally envious.
The Crescent Moon Tearoom by Stacy Sivinski. Yes, another cozy fantasy, this one featuring three witchy sisters who can read people’s futures (except for their own) in tea leaves. I’ve just started it and I’m not yet quite all in, but I think I will be as it picks up steam.
Workshops in England and France
Information, including dates and cost, for our 2025 England workshops is now listed on our website. And heads up! The deadline for early-bird discount is November 1. We’ve had several writers indicate strong interest in joining and a couple of sign-ups already, so we recommend registering soon.
We’ll also be returning to France, and though we don’t have exact info for 2025 up yet, you can read about 2024 here.
And if you want a taste of the adventure that awaits, you can read my posts about this year here, and here, here, here, and here.
Other places to connect with me:
My website (badly in need of an upgrade)
Our workshop website
My original blog (now for archive purposes only, no longer updated)
Charlotte, Thank you for the encouragement. I do feel discouraged at the moment. I write on platforms with gatekeepers and changing algorithms. I once wrote a post called "Everything Has a Season, Even the Writing Life." I'm not sure I believe that because it feels like writing is in my DNA, but perhaps I was trying to convince myself.
On the other hand, maybe it's time to focus more on meditation. Who knows what the future holds? I would miss the warm feeling of writing a brilliant phrase, paragraph, or even a fantastic piece!
Thank you, Charlotte. You seem to know what I need to hear each week.