No. 038 | Writing the Things That You Don't Want to Write
Writing is writing.
I get a nervous high when I finally sit down to write something that I don’t want to write. Even this post to a degree has me feeling a certain way. I love to write. It is my favorite activity for a variety of reasons. It is the only prospect for a career that I have ever taken seriously, no matter how hard anyone says it is or what diplomas I have on the wall. It is by far the best way for me to communicate what I really want to say.
So, when there is something difficult to express, and writing it out is an appropriate step in a process to resolve it, I think about the actual words for a long period of time. Long walks with the dog; Peloton rides (surprising, but true); weekend yardwork sessions; showering and brushing my teeth; or lounging on the couch, spacing out and letting my subconscious arrange the puzzle pieces.
Like an actor waiting in the wings, I finally sit down and visualize one last time, imagining the flow of the finished piece. Then, if handwritten, I check the pen. My grandmother’s voice always enters my head at this point:
“Use a black ink pen for handwritten letters.”
I don’t know where that advice originated. I’ll never forget it, but I also don’t usually follow it. I use a blue Cristal BIC like it’s a good luck charm. Sorry, Nanny.
A perfect handwritten note avoids spelling errors scratched out or those little corrections overtop of an error. It’s just more attractive that way but no one is going to fault you for it. You’re writing out a note in 2025 for goodness sake.
My handwriting changes with my mood and I think it has something to do with how I grip the pen. Good mood text is smaller, straighter, and easier to read. A bad or nervous mood creates text that is more erratic, larger, and often sends each sentence on a slight slant. From the start, how the text appears tells me something - the subtext, if you will.
In just a few words, my writing brains takes over. One line leads into the next. I pay attention to the length remaining. Leave room for a signature and only go over to another page if it’s worth what you’re going to write. Try to fit a message into an even-spaced space. That’s the best part, I think. Getting to the end and liking what you wrote before deciding how to sign the thing. Blur your vision and look at the aesthetic, the shape of the thing. Is it wonky or pleasant?
Signatures are a very personal touch. What you decide to use is as important as anything else, dependent on message and audience. End the note on a good note. Does it look clean and clear, or rushed?
Then, reread what’s written and decide if it’s ready to go on its way. Whether handwritten or typed, the writer is delivering a piece of themselves. Imagine the recipient opening the envelope and beginning to read. Have you done what you’ve intended to do?
I’m about to write something that I don’t want to write but am still excited to write it. Writing is writing and good writing comes in all forms. How well are you portraying your message? Do you understand your audience? Are you over- or underwhelming them with your message?
That is what matters most. That is the goal of a writer. Find the space between.
Words are so powerful. This is something I will teach my children one day, both directly and by example. I have learned this lesson both the easy and the hard way, and it, too, comes in all forms. What you say and how you say it is a mindset - one that a great writer learns to master.
The relationship that a writer has with his or her piece is their own, but the quality of the work is for everyone. So, I sit after seemingly hours of contemplation and begin to write. The process goes as described and at the end, I mute the TV or pause the music and re-read slowly and deliberately. Maybe I’m tired, maybe there’s a disconnect somewhere between me and what I’m trying to say. Maybe this isn’t meant to be sent at all.
I remove the paper from its pad and crumple it into a ball, aiming for the trash can on the other side of the room. An act I wish I’d done countless times before, to all those notes that shipped but never should have seen the light of day.
Such power, I think, to know the difference between what’s fit for consumption and what’s better left unsaid.
Someone who cares read this.