Write the Bad Story

I had a really, really good therapy session yesterday. Not in the sense that I was depressed and felt better—I went into it in a good mood—I just made a lot of personal progress. Also, my therapist is really cool, so shooting the shit with him is fun.

We talked about the sort of thing that causes my project ADD. It manifests itself in other areas of my life, particularly other areas that involve creating, especially writing. I am ashamed to admit it, but I have a great deal of difficulty writing research papers. It is like pulling teeth. And yesterday, we identified that a form of perfectionism is responsible for this.

I start writing something, I get a chapter and a half in, and then there is no way I can continue it. Or rather, there is, but it is not satisfactory to me. I stop myself because producing nothing is better than creating something that is not good.

I need to aim a little lower, really. No one’s first novel is published—I should not be wary of what people will think about it. I should just focus on actually completing a novel in the first place. Academically, my new goal is to focus on writing a paper that will earn a C (because that is better than a zero and I will probably earn a better grade in the process).

Mind you, there are still some issues holding me back from moving too far along with my story—mainly the lack of a coherent conflict—but I have a lot of hope.

I am going into the coffee shop right now to write. And I better hurry, because I’m about to say something flippant to the two stereotypes sitting next to me in the area outside of the coffee shop: a girl who is “not” a slut and her gay best friend.