If my doctor told me I had only six minutes to live, I wouldn't brood. I'd type a little faster. ~Isaac Asimov
I'm not going to say it's impossible, but it's nearly impossible to be a writer (blogger especially, as our words aren't hidden in a drawer or file somewhere) while looking over your shoulder. Constantly wondering if you've said too much, wondering where the lines are between over-exposure and good writing is the death of written word. Is this why many famous writers were single/divorced/estranged from their spouses? Is it impossible to be brutally honest about what you know, what you believe, what you wish and dream and need, and sustain personal relationships in your life? @TheBeardedIris (one of my favorite bloggers) just wrote about this particular issue in her post, I have an announcement to make. I know I am not alone in my struggle with the writing/living balance, but I have to say that I don't think anyone truly knows what the right answer is.
"The artist cannot hold back; it is impossible, because writing, or any other discipline of art, involves participation in suffering, in the ills and occasional stabbing joys that come from being part of the human drama."Madeleine L’Engle, Walking on Water
About a month ago I started writing my story. I've always told myself I would write about teenage pregnancy/motherhood, about Husband, about how/where we began. It is an incredibly complicated story, but the longer I live the more of it I forget. I don't want to lose those details, and I believe there's an aspect of our story that is interesting to people who don't even know us. Hell, if people will watch that 16 and Pregnant show, why wouldn't they be interested in the drama that has been my life for the last ten years?
I started posting to a new blog. With each installment, people I respect in the blogging community were asking for more. These women & men who write on a level I only dream of writing were asking me to write MORE. I've never been so flattered. For this, I want to say thank you so, so much. From the bottom of my heart where my deepest emotions live, thank you.
Unfortunately Husband isn't entirely comfortable with me putting so much of our personal history out there for anyone to read. I understand his point of view, although my heart breaks for the loss of Truth & Fiction. If he isn't behind me on the decision to share our story, I can't in good conscience put it out there.
But I can't stop writing it. I won't stop writing my story. I will put it all down in words if it kills me (and some days it feels like it might kill me - writing our story is painful sometimes). Maybe some day it will see the light of day.
Dorothy Allison from the New York Times Book Review, Sunday, June 28, 1994: "Everything Iknow, everything I put in my fiction, will hurt someone somewhere as surely as it will comfort and enlighten someone else. What then is my responsibility? What am I to restrain? What am I to fear and alter-my own nakedness or the grief of the reader? I want my stories to be so good they are unforgettable; to make my ideas live and my own terrors real for people I will never meet. It is a completely amoral writer's lust. If we begin to agree that some ideas are too dangerous, too bad to invite inside our heads, then we stop the storyteller completely. We silence everyone who would tell us something that might be painful in our vulnerable moments."