slow starts and restarts
On writer's block and self-doubt and slowing down
I’ve been writing and rewriting this letter for, well, months. I keep typing and deleting and compulsively abandoning drafts, of which I have accumulated an ominous 69.
Last year I quietly paused subscriptions and took a hiatus from Substack, thinking I’d be gone for at most a month.
And…it’s been a year. I feel somewhat embarrassed by this, because I had lofty goals for this newsletter. But for a long time I felt as if I had nothing useful or worthy to say. I still kind of feel that way, and that’s probably not going to go away, so despite my doubts I persist. The human condition, I guess.
Is this a waste of my time? Is this a waste of yours? Sorry in advance!
Anyway, a bit of an explanation, an apology, and a promise:
I hit pause on this newsletter in May of last year because I was going to Copenhagen for a conference. I celebrated my birthday there and I fell in love with the city a little. Of course, it was summer; the days were long and sunny, the water warm enough (by Scandinavian standards) to swim. I even felt a sort of timid fondness for the bike commuters whipping by on the street, too impatient to tolerate tourists, and the pedestrian lights that didn’t count you down but immediately turned red, signaling your imminent death by car or, more likely, bike.
Summer, I spent having multiple breakdowns over Sally Rooney’s Intermezzo and enjoying the beach weather I pay California state taxes for; fall, I spent binging Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Gilmore Girls and getting engaged; winter, I spent in reclusive hibernation, as is my preference.
Winter, and my reclusive hibernation, and this slower pace of life: I’m not ready for these things to end. I’ve been feeling exhausted by social media and the increasingly frenetic pace of consumption there, which, when I talk to my friends who are not as chronically online as I am (most aren’t), I find is…not at all the norm! Shocking!
Maybe I am moving away from consuming media and books and even life events as commodities. Or maybe I just like taking the pressure off.
Slowing down for me wasn’t intentional—it was, probably, just what I needed—until I realized I like this change of pace. There’s something to be said about spending weeks or months with a single book, or revisiting something with more attention than you paid it previously. Maybe I am moving away from consuming media and books and even life events as commodities. Or maybe I just like taking the pressure off.
As we enter spring, I find myself already missing the quiet of winter. That feeling of the world passing by outside, and everything you love and care for around you, wrapped in warmth. Can I bring that feeling with me, into the rest of the year? Can I slow time, simply by lingering within it?
In these quieter moments, I’ve found my way back to writing again. For the past year I hit a block: everything I wrote was bad! Nothing was or would ever be good! I had nothing worthwhile to say!
I mean, I still kind of feel this way. But I’ve also found pleasure again in the process. Writing can be indulgent, and for the writer to enjoy it in any way I think it must be. For me, there is an inherent sensuality in writing, especially in writing fiction.
But also in writing these meandering letters, in taking up more space in your life than a 1350 x 1080 pixel image on your phone screen. It took me a lot longer than I wanted, but here I am.
Thanks for being here, as always, and talk soon (promise I won’t take off for a year again!!).
xx Cat
go Cat go!!