Even Your First Draft Is Enough

lizshine74by lizshine74

In Inspiration, On writing.

Driftwood Logs on Beach

Just finished reading Poet Warrior, Joy Harjo’s 2021 memoir. So gorgeous I had to keep reminding myself not to hold my breath. So heartbreaking at times, that I had to set down the book and heave a sigh before I could read on. I bring it up because there was a nugget in there that relates to what I’m writing about in this post. Harjo recalls a dream she had where a mentor poet visited her. At the time she was in that space so many of us are familiar with where we think we should stop doing our creative work because no one is buying. Here’s the dream and the after effect:

“I was in bed with an illness. Meridel stood over me singing and praying, with a shell of smoke in her hands, cleaning my spirit. When I awoke the next morning, I put one foot in front of the other, one word in front of the next.”

I read these lines after a day of ups and downs with writing. I’m on a getaway to a beach cabin. When I started writing that morning, I’d slipped easily into flow, then after a time I hit a rock that wouldn’t budge. I started to question everything. The story itself, and my worth as a writer. Doubt and indecision charged in to disrupt the peace and purpose I’d felt only moments before.

It was hard, but I stayed with it. Though it was challenging to keep myself trying to move at least another word forward, I stayed in it. My own fears and insecurities were calling me to stand down, but I stubbornly and awkwardly kept making my way. This doesn’t end in a success. I’m still only 3600 words into a story I haven’t quite figured out yet. I did end the day with an idea about how to proceed that might open a door or two. I’m ready to try. Then, later in the day, reading Harjo’s memoir, I came across those lines, and I made a connection. Then, this morning, I wrote a poem, which I’ll share a few lines of here—

Flow

She stands at the ocean's edge, 
watching the tide recede. 
Another example in nature of how
we're meant to be in flow--
dancing to the heart's drum, pouring
out our stories as if 
a compassionate listener can be assumed--
laughing--crying--hugging--
without hesitation.
The water goes out; 
The water comes in, 
mirrored in breath and in blood.

I also work as a writing coach and love helping writers gain confidence, set goals, and develop their work. For more information on coaching, email me at eatyourwords.lizshine@gmail.com.

lizshine74

lizshine74

Liz Shine teaches high school English, writes, edits, and coaches other writers from her home in Olympia, WA. When she begins to feel overwhelmed by it all, she simply looks up at Mount Rainier in the distance and gets back to work. If that fails, she heads to the ocean. She is a founding editor at Red Dress Press. Her Substack Make Time is her gift to writers, like her, trying to magic time in this crazy, busy world. All of those posts are cross-posted on the blog here. You can see more of her writing at lizshine.com and find her on Instagram {@lizshine.writer} cooking, traveling, and in other ways seeking moments of awe. She has been an active participant in communities of writers since the early 1990s. She’s learned that two things feel truly purpose-driven in life: writing and coaching other writers. In the in between (because one cannot be driving for a purpose every moment), she enjoys looking for wonder and connection. She is a lifelong yoga student, an enthusiastic walker along streets and trails, and an amateur gardener and vegetarian cook. She lives in Olympia, WA. She believes in the power of practice and has been practicing writing since some time in the early 90s when she became an adult in the rain-soaked city of Aberdeen. Writing began with journaling, as a way to understand a confusing, sometimes violent coming-of-age. She writes mostly fiction, some nonfiction, and poetry, and holds an MFA from Pacific Lutheran University’s Rainier Writers Workshop. She is a founding editor at Red Dress Press.