Why My Story Needed To Die

Sometimes you cannot move forward unless you let go.

Trust me, I needed to.

Growing up meant leaving behind my graveyard of unfinished projects.

I loved inventing new ideas, but I failed to breathe life into my creations. Now they collect dust in dark places. I always hated this about myself, though I did not know how to change this. My fear of boredom chained me to mediocrity.

During college, my bass tutor gave me crucial advice, “always finish what you start, even when you’re just messing around.” I do not know why that resonated with me, but I needed to hear those words. Despite having ADHD, I accomplished more in three years than ever before. In fact, I believed I would never give up a project ever again. Then my short story came along…

After so many years of completed projects, it killed me to give up on one. Many of you will not agree with my decision to quit writing my story. Hell, I do not agree with it either. But I knew I needed to stop, and here’s why:

I lost sight of my intended story

I kept going a direction I did not want to go.

For the past six months, I toiled away at my story. It had an interesting initial idea: complacent, analytical, self-deprecating nobody gets possessed by the spirit of a little girl who causes him to do immature things. However, as I continued to write, it got out of hand. I did not want the story to have any more than six parts but it eventually expanded to fifteen. I hated every second of writing it, but I could not stop.

This project started taking away time from more valuable parts of my life. I would skip hanging out with my friends so I could keep writing. It stressed me out more and more, but I kept writing anyway. I had an addiction for the feeling of satisfaction, and finishing my story would give me a high like none other. Too bad I only produced crap.

Writing it felt like banging my head against a wall

I started isolating myself for my story.

To me, not finishing this story meant regressing to my lesser self. I had to slay this dragon, otherwise, it would eventually swallow me. But, I did not realize that I had already sunk into its bowels. By the time I finished the first draft of my story and prepared for editing, I realized that it had fundamental flaws. I had to cut 80% of what I wrote, which made everything, including myself, feel worthless.

I had to escape, and I could only see two options. Bang my head against a wall for another unknown amount of months, or let go. The latter felt right, but it also seemed too convenient. I put a helmet on and prepared to keep banging, but something kept whispering in my ear telling me to “let go”. Did this voice come from an angel or a demon? I could not tell at first, but I learned something that helped me find the answer.

It may have become a good story, but it was not my story.

I wrote out of desire instead of passion.

I could never find the fire I needed to push through the resistance. Even after recharting all of my characters, outlining the story again, and getting to the point where I liked the story, I never loved the story. Every project that I completed in my life felt like the right thing to do, even when I did not find it exciting anymore. As K. M. Weiland says:

Every time I considered stopping, my instincts started howling. Keep going! You can fix this story! You have to see this through!

I never felt this way about my short story. Every time I worked on my story, my instincts would tell me, “Stop! Stop! For the love of God, stop!” How can I tell the difference between my instincts and resistance? Even my most inspirational projects get me tired every now and then. However, I found the truth when I recalled the conception of my story.

My short story did not emerge out of passion, but rather as part of my “to do” list. I desired to gain experience in writing fiction, so I wanted to write a story to check it off. My pride in thinking, “I can write a story out of anything,” led to my downfall. The story popped in my mind and I rolled with it without a second thought. I failed by working on a “good idea” instead of “the idea”.

But the experience wasn't worthless.

Giving up on my story puts a dagger to my chest, but that blade also frees me. Now I have the time and energy to work on the projects that matter. Although it seemed like a waste at first, the knowledge and experience I gained from this short story will help my future projects blossom. I hope those who have the “never give up” mentality can find it in your hearts to forgive me for my decision.

-Yak ;)

#Writing #PersonalExperience