I belong to an online writers class, UnMute, taught by Ann Randolph. I meet other writers from around the world there. (Next session begins Jan. 12) The class manifesto is  supportiveness for the writer, for the writing, and for growing your creative voice. One exercise we do is to write a kind of pep talk to ourselves at the final class of a session. I think this is a good idea for any writer at year end. Become a cheerleader for your writing!

Dear Mo: 

     You decided to not be afraid of your story. Good on you for persevering even when lost in the maze of a second novel. Your first book seemed to come easily; not so this one. Attention wanders. Let it. Make art, daydream. Ideas will come – perhaps solutions to a knotty plot. 

            Let your writing be your learning ground as you struggle to inhabit a long-ago time in history, characters with real feelings and ambitions, loves and hates.

            Good for you to recognize the value of  the writing you have done already. Brava for writing a personal memoir of a bittersweet love, Girlfriend ~the Longing and Short of it. And getting recognition of its excellence in the Writers Digest contest.

       Do you write just for this kind of recognition? Not solely, and yet writing is a way for an overlooked child to become a seen adult. But there is the  joy of writing for its own sake. The struggles and discoveries, the playtime with words and stories. And, too, the struggle to cut your way through the thicket, to find your way home to that last page of your story.

      You are in mid-slog, but good on you for realizing that you need to give yourself room to roam within your story –  without demands. You are not going to set a record for number of books written – and marvel at those writers who do, if they do it well.

       Many of your writing friends are using AI to plot their stories. You don’t. Face it, you are a bit of a purist. Still, AI is a help to some writers, and you do not begrudge that. 

     What is the old saying, something like: Give a chimp enough time and it could type out Shakespeare. I don’t believe this for a minute. My story (your story) is as individual as my fingerprints as I type. As unique as my soul.