Writer’s Musings: Finding Fuel for the Fire

“Because you are defined not by life’s imperfect moments, but by your reaction to them. Because there is joy in embracing—rather than running screaming from—the utter absurdity of life.”
– Jenny Lawson, Let’s Pretend This Never Happened

This week finds me wrung out like a sponge and set out to dry. Between some personal events that took precedence this week and writing-related events, I am out of gas.

All of the writing community on twitter was awash with excitement over PitMad this past Thursday, with most of us experiencing a collective hangover in our respective Friday mornings per whichever time zone we were in. And yet some Twitter users seem to have bounced back with a vengeance that is near-inhuman.

While some of this may be excitement because of an event gone well, I have to wonder how much of it is performative. As writers, artists, musicians, makers, or content creators, it feels like the light is always focused on us with the call to be at one-hundred percent at all times.

Yet the creators I love are the ones that are so authentically their imperfect selves that they’ve built their brand on being below or at normal. Jenny Lawson, or The Bloggess as she’s known as on her blog, wrote two NYT best-selling memoirs on being her unique and self-proclaimed f*ucked-up self. Sarah Anderson’s comic strip, Sarah’s Scribbles, puts the ‘M’ in millenial and makes me feel less of a trash human for spending an inordinate amount of money I do not have on books and about my own infinitesimal amount of self-esteem.

I love these content creators because they are unapologetically themselves and that has become their strength rather than their ball and chain. It takes an absurd amount of bravery and what I would term self-resilience rather than self-confidence. These creators know they’ll always be the same person whether they win or lose, and there’s a strange sense of security in that.

I aspire to be one of those content creators someday. In the meantime, here I sit, a dried out heap of bones recharging for another week. Tomorrow, dreams. Today, Netflix.

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