The What If's

Am I a delusional writer?

I have always had very little confidence in myself but for some strange reason, my determined spirit comes through in the end. And trust me, many many times have I made a fool out of myself and so I spend a great deal of my time contemplating my failures. During my third year at university, I went to Barcelona as part of a trip. It was my job to assess the political situation of Catalonia and to do this I had to enter into one of the most uncomfortable phases of my life so far. I had to mix with those I wouldn’t think twice about befriending let alone mixing with. I am if anything really quiet and I prefer my own company and the company of a few good friends. I was already anxious about the trip, knowing that I would have to prepare questionnaires etc. but somehow I just tried to keep an open mind. I was excited about seeing the city, steeped with history and beautiful architecture. What I did love about the trip was having to create strategic plans in order to survive. Plans on how to get from the airport to the hotel, how to keep myself within my spending budget, surviving a language barrier, how to protect myself from dangerous situations. I am really good at this, sometimes when I’m bored I will simply give myself a situation and try to find my way out of it with the least amount of distress. This aspect of the trip was fine, I have a photographic memory for maps of all things, and so getting myself about the city was fine. I figured out the tube pretty fast as well which is always a bonus and these qualities helped the others in my group.

But having to conduct a personal conversation with people I thought way above me in all areas of life, scared the hell out of me. I felt physical sick with the idea that in the morning I would have to spend the whole day in the presence of four people I did not know. And they were confident and social, everything I am not. To be brutally honest, it was terrible from the word go but with my ever failing determined spirit I survived somehow. Maybe I am terrible at social things, I own up to that but I try continually to change. I felt cut off from the group and I willingly did most of the work. In one of the photos, everyone is standing concentrating on the speaker and I am in the background, glaring up at a parrot. I have never seen so many parrots in all my life and was transfixed with them. Everything had me transfixed, bar the social elements. Every brick I touched, I thought to myself, who else has touched this brick? Every old building that I past, I thought to myself, how many pairs of feet have stood where I am standing now? How many people have died fighting for this city and the want of independence? How many people still fight for the same privilege?

When we returned home, we were given an essay to do and it was a practical essay. I am terrible at practical essays and because I am so quiet, no one in my group had given me the adequate information in order for me to assess the situation properly and offer up my opinions. And so I failed in my essay, but in that moment of failure something clicked and I got angry for the first time at university. And my anger got me a second chance at doing the essay, this time with all the proper information and with a lot of work, I got the highest mark in the class and a first.

What has this to do with writing exactly?

Well if you are a writer you will know that many times you will fail in your writing and a great many times you simply drown in those depressing feelings of worthlessness. At least I did for a time. So many times in my life have I simply slipped into that deep sea, believing myself and my work unattainable to anything good. I like to paint, and many of my paintings are at time a little shit if truth be told, but if I don’t like them I simply paint over them and begin again. I spend most of my time beginning again and again, but sometimes I will achieve something and I know in the end it’s worth it. I wasn’t going to allow the bad actions of other people make me fail the one class I loved. So I faced the anxiety of having to talk to my teacher and was given another shot and succeeded. Writing a novel is much the same. Listen my books are not the stuff of gold, heaven forbid I’m too poor to have my work properly edited and so forth, and will any publishing house ever publish my work? 

Most likely not.

What’s the point?

You work and you work, you re write and you re write if it means that much to you. Understand that it will not pay for your survival at the end of the day but it will pay for your sense of pride and accomplishment. Just knowing that you have finished a book is a credit to yourself. Not many people can say they have written a book and so it is a work of beauty for many reasons and you’re allowed to hold onto that. Fredrik Nietzsche often asked why it was that we humans felt guilty for achieving, as though it were a sin against being humble and pious and he was right, we are allowed to feel self-gratification for accomplishing something even if others think you delusional.

Imagine the kind of people we could be if we had just a little more confidence in ourselves? Imagine the things we could achieve and the stories we could write.

The what if’s of writing will plague you throughout your journey, but don’t let them hinder your experience. Of course you must keep a level head and be rationale, but enjoy your work and writing even if the whole world is against you. When you finish a book and put it out to the world, the world is gaining something not losing it. You have the gift to give the world something special and unique and that in itself is something to be proud of. Learning to take failure with a pinch of salt is an important lesson to learn, learning to have a little pride in your work is a great lesson to learn.

Iseult x