My Take
DiVoran Lites
I am my own guinea pig. I figure what’s good for the goose is good for the gander, in other words, I learn things about myself all the time and wonder whether others feel the same way I do.
My latest discovery is in connection with the writing of poetry. I was in the middle of a final polish of my third novel in the Florida Springs Trilogy, Clear Spring, and I was feeling so down, I had to stop every thirty minutes to eat a teaspoon full of pecan pieces. Besides being nervous, a condition I attributed to stage fright because I was drawing near the end of my book, I also had a bad case of self-chastisement, a plethora of thoughts about how I wasn’t any good as a writer, nor as a person. I know I’m the only person in the world who ever has these thoughts, and that bothers me too. What is wrong with me?
Then I saw a Face Book call for entries for poems about forgiveness from a Christian point of view. I was onto that like ducks on a June bug. First I started through my poetry workshop file, hmm, nothing specific on forgiveness, I usually write about more tangible things. So well, the thing to do is to start a new poem about the topic. I got so caught up in that I found the morning passing without a single bad thought or pecan piece. I wrote and rewrote. I asked my husband to read the poem to me. It was perfect except for one word. I wrote and rewrote again, this time shortening each line by two syllables. That required some word changes too. It got better. By the time I finished I was feeling mighty fine. No stage fright, no collywobbles, no cat-o-nine tails across my own shoulders. I felt ready to tackle anything, even polishing.
A similar thing happened once when my mother and I were waiting at a fish camp for our men to come home from a boat-shopping trip. It got later and later, but I didn’t have time to worry because I was working on a poem, “Bridgett’s Mustang.” You can see that poem in Bill’s, Old Things R New, “Slice of LIfe archives,” Our Trip Across America Part 9.
I need to go now, I am still working on forgiveness, and I hope to send it off within the next hour or so, then back to Clear Spring for some more polishing—stage fright free.
DiVoran’s books can be found at Rebekah Lyn Books as well as on Amazon
Old Things R New 
Thanks for normalizing the “What is wrong with me” chatter that comes up for writers and sharing what you do to pull yourself out of it. Glad to hear that poetry brings you back into that “feeling might fine” state. I’m not much of a poet myself, but you’ve reminded me of how important it is to have a “grab bag of tricks” to pull ourselves out of the writer-worry mode.
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Are pecan pieces supposed to relieve stress? Or is it the pounding them into pieces that relieves stress?
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DiVoran, I hd to do a double-take. For a second I thought I was reading my own thoughts. You are such a prolific writer, always interesting and refreshing in your insight, how could such thoughts be entertained by you!?
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