Ten Things I Gave Up For Writing

When I started writing “seriously” I found myself slowly
giving up some things. These were things that I never once thought I’d just
toss away like yesterday’s trash, but I did. Most of the time I didn’t realize
they were gone until much later. By then I’d forgotten about them. Some of them
I still miss, and I do plan to take back someday. Others I never needed in the
first place. So what ten things did I give up for writing? Some of them I’m
sure you’ve already guessed, but here goes:



1. Sleep




This was the first thing to go, although I might argue that
I never really had sleep to begin with. Now I sacrifice sleep above anything
else. I figure I can sleep when I’m dead, right? For now, I’ll just take what
my body says it requires and no more. I do miss those long, deep sleeps where
your dreams get all fucked up. Know those ones? Sigh. Sometimes I let myself
have one of those just for inspiration. The Ropers dream is one I’d like to
revisit because I think there’s a story in there. A twisted, messed up,
terrifying story.






2. Reality Television





You have no idea how hard it was to give this up. I loved
all the Big Brother, Bachelor and Survivor shit. Fear Factor? One of my
favorite shows. But alas, writing takes time and reality television wasn’t
contributing a damn thing to my life. So off it went. Besides, I’d get caught
up in something I was writing, miss a show and then I was fucked for the rest
of the season. That’s so damn frustrating. Instead of watching any television
(aside from Republic of Doyle
- Allan Hawko, sigh—and Big Bang Theory), I
buy seasons of certain shows (True Blood, Game of Thrones, Walking Dead, etc.)
on DVD, or watch them on Netflix. This way, I can get my fix when I have time
for said fix.



3. Snack Time





Sort of. I miss my old snack time, which usually fell
between 7pm and 9pm each night. I’d grab whatever was most unhealthy for me,
and sit on the couch with my big blanket to watch whatever was on the TV, or to
read whatever was waiting on the end table, and I’d just zone out for an hour.
God, I miss that. Now it’s limited to 30 minutes or less and consists of a
handful of chips and yammering at Kurt until he threatens to punch me. On the
plus side: I’ve lost those ten pounds that kept lurking out around my ass. So
there’s that.



4. Sanity





It’s overrated I know, but I miss the days where clear,
lucid thought was just a given. Now I’ve got so much shit in my head, it takes
a good five minutes to slow that shit down and figure out where I left my keys.
Someone asked me my name a few weeks ago and I blanked out. Who forgets their
damn name? I see a horrible story on the news and I try to think about how I
could improve it in book form. I hear someone say something funny and I’m trying
to recall it until I can get home and write it down for some character to say
somewhere. I find myself figuring out ways to write more, sleep less, plot
more, socialize less…you get the idea. If anyone messes with my writing
schedule or my “mood” then I truly visualize either killing them, or torturing
them in ways I’m pretty sure a psychiatrist would frown upon.



5. Impatience





Not patience, I gave up impatience. I used to be the most
impatient person you’d ever meet. Waiting? Pfft, that was for the rest of the
morons. Not me. I’ve learned during this process that impatience does nothing
but cause mass burials in the backyard. Instead, I’ve learned to breathe and
then forget about whatever it is I’m being forced to wait for. I’ve also
learned that I cannot possibly type as fast as I can think. It used to
frustrate the shit out of me, but now I’m good with it. I just allow myself to
make mistakes, type half-thoughts and gloss over some details so I can keep up
with my brain. I’ve learned there’s no shame in going back and fixing it all
later. It’s called rewriting.



6. A Clean House





Oh never mind. I gave this shit up a long time ago. I won’t
lie to you. It just got worse when I started writing. I’ll spare my mother the
embarrassment and we won’t get into descriptions of my house.



7. Being Normal






I simply don’t do normal things anymore and I certainly don’t
think like normal people think. I don’t think I ever truly wanted to be normal
anyway. It’s rather boring and feels like a noose slowly strangling fun Renee.
Writing gave me the excuse to say fuckit. Weird is where it’s at.






8. Boredom





I am never bored. Not ever. I never thought I’d say that,
and I certainly didn’t imagine I’d miss boredom, but I do. I miss the emptiness
of it. That’s very relaxing you know. Someday soon though, I plan to learn how
to empty my brain now and then. I’m sure it’d be a good stress reliever. So
far, I haven’t been successful at it. I empty and shit just comes in the other
side.



9. Ignorance of shitty writing





I used to read voraciously. I’d read anything and everything
within my favorite genres, and there wasn’t much I really complained about. To
be honest, I used to self-correct things that were wonky automatically. It didn’t
occur to me that a reader shouldn’t do that if the writer has any skills. I
miss that ignorance. It made reading so much more enjoyable. On the other hand,
it’s stopped me from wasting money on fluff, and it’s taught me that I do know
what I’m doing on my end. Knowing good writing from bad has also opened me up
to a world of writers I’d never have considered before. I used to be a genre
whore. Anything outside my genres of choice, I’d never touch. Now, I’ll read
anything if it’s written well. The shitty books I save for craft projects with
the kids.



10. Self-Doubt





When I started writing, it was for fun. I didn’t care about
grammar, plot or characterization. When I turned to writing to publish, all of
these rules coming at me just overwhelmed me, and they reminded me why I
abandoned that childhood dream of being an author to begin with. It’s hard and
it can be soul-shattering if you don’t believe in yourself. But then one day I
realized I was causing my own problems. If I didn’t believe in myself and my
ability, of course I’d suck for eternity. There’s no way to improve if you have
no confidence in your skills. So, I chucked self-doubt aside, and my writing
became more open and smooth. I found my voice and I am proud of it. Self-doubt
has no place in writing and it’s one thing I do not miss. Also, this confidence
spills over into other areas of my life, which is kind of nice.





So there you have it. Ten things I gave up when I started to
write “seriously.” There are more very minor things, but they’re not really
things I miss at all. I gave up smooth legs and makeup because I just don’t
have time to worry about such things every single day. Hey, I’ve got a lot of
leg to clear, and I do try to keep them from becoming sasquatchy, so just leave
me alone. And makeup is on an “as needed” basis. I would’ve died before I’d go
out without makeup on a few years ago. Now I’m like “yeah, I’m sick.” because I
always get that question. “You feeling okay, you’re a little pale.” It’s called
genetics, asshole.






Tangent. Sorry. Anyway, what things have you given up in
order to write? Do you miss them?