“The only way I can get anything written at all is to write really, really shitty first drafts.”
Of all Anne Lamott’s reflective encouragements, this is the crux of all that blocks thought from paper. You can’t start writing when you’re vibrating over the thought of people seeing it.
But there’s a magnitude of time scale difference between web publishing and the type of writing she’s talking about.
On the internet, then, I think the equivalent is a shitty first post.
I wonder how many blogs or websites or journals have been forsaken after months of fearing a shitty first post. This one certainly was, almost. It has languished as an eyesore in the recluse neighborhood of my greater to-do list, a cobwebby and embarrassing corner from which I sometimes hear snarls and asylum laughter.
For over a year and a half I’ve put up with that, because:
- “I’m trying to find my voice” (by not using it)
- I might regret the name of the blog (and confuse alllll these followers if I must change it later)
- I can’t write until I know what the True Mission of the blog is (like all those sacred Geocities sites)
- I’m waiting until I can write with the deliberate yet free-flowing clarity of a Real Academic and Writer (¬_¬)
(Bullshit artistry is messy; you get most of it on yourself.)
Just when I’m making headway convincing myself that nobody will ever see a first post anyway, I pivot to my backup argument: then why am I going to bother writing all these posts for nothing?
A draft won’t save me from this nonsense. So, here is my shitty first post, in a shitty-name blog. My filthy band-aid that I hope I don’t but probably will forget on the side of the tub, and be mortified to rediscover after company comes by.
MY BARBARIC MAUP 