Last night, I did something a little impulsive: I spent an hour writing about all my uncertainties and doubts without a single thought of where the draft post was going.
The work felt honest and in the moment, but it was written with what I could only describe as a rabbit hole of emotion. Looking at the work objectively, I think I have three separate topics rolled into one rambling, unfocused post.
Ernest Hemingway tells us to “write drunk, edit sober,” but the truth is, you don’t need to be drunk to write drunk. Sure, Hemingway was known for being on the more literal side when it came to writing, but I think his statement can be more loosely applied. What he’s really saying to us is that we need to write without thought or shame, unapologetically and unfiltered.
I like to think of my inner editor as the supportive friend who keeps my writing in check and ensures I don’t publish things I’ll regret, no matter how insignificant the writing or thoughts may be; ‘editor-me’ knows better than to share a vulnerable piece of writing that lacks purpose or impact. Thinking of the work I wrote last night, there are moments that I know I’ll return to at a later date, hopefully when I’m more distant from the subject-matter.
The practice of letting go to just simply write, however, was liberating and needed. I’m leaving feeling more certain of my writing goals and convictions.