Creative writing has always been something I’ve enjoyed even as early as grade school. My grandmother was a professional artist, and all her grandchildren were artistic. I can’t draw to save my life, but I love creative writing.
I would get all jazzed up and do some writing, or take a class, or even go to an event or conference. But writing remained something that I dabbled in but never had enough time for. I hesitated to tell my friends about my dream of becoming an author because if I didn’t tell them, then I wouldn’t have to tell them if I failed. And I knew I would fail.
The odds of ever getting published were long, and self-doubt raged. Then it all crystalized around a character.
I met my nemesis, Pinocchio.
We all know someone like that guy in the grey suit. Oh, we’ll treat him nice, but we know he’s not going anywhere. He won’t accomplish anything. He’s worthless. Sure, people will tell him he has potential, but just like Pinocchio, they’re lying.
Maybe you work with him, or he’s a family member or friend.
Maybe he’s you.
I used to think he was me.
Pinocchio plays in my mind like a soundtrack on repeat.
He says ,“These people don’t really like you. Why would anyone like you? You don’t deserve to be loved. You don’t have any potential. You are worthless. Broken. Purposeless. Alone.”
More than those “enormous piles of money” I talked about last month, what I really wanted out of writing was validation. I wanted someone to tell me they loved my stories, because what they would really be saying was they loved me. If something I wrote had value, then maybe I had value.
But I couldn’t face the possibility they would reject my stories, and in doing so, confirm every negative word Pinocchio said. The fear paralyzed me and kept me from sharing my creativity.
To break that fear, I had to believe every word of it was wrong. It was a lie. The only way to do that was to figure out how I had come came to believe the lies in the first place.
The wound and the lie
I’ve always been a geek/nerd. Growing up in the 80s, I loved Star Wars, Marvel comics, D&D, and computers. Today, that gets you a seat at the cool kids’ table, but back then, it made you weird and different. Wearing glasses only added to the effect. Different and weird attracts bullies, and I had a target on my back.
And like many kids, I also dealt with my parents divorce. They did everything they could to spare my sister and me from the brunt of that painful experience, but there was no getting around the collateral damage to my self-worth.
Under the weight of it all, I started considering ways to remove myself from the picture.
But knowing the origin of the lie wasn’t enough. The only way to rob the lies of their power was to find my true worth and my value.
Now, there’s really no way to tell this next part of the story without getting into my faith journey, and it gets a little weird. If that makes you uncomfortable, you can bail out here.
The destination is there.
Still here? Outstanding.
I wanted to know if this author dream was a path God wanted me to pursue, or if I should spend my time and energy on something else. In my faith tradition, we believe we can talk to God, and be completely open and honest with Him. I told Him I wanted Him to say yes, that I should pursue this writing dream, but I would follow whatever direction He gave.
In that moment, God brought some old song lyrics back to my mind. They say “Your desire is the confirmation the destination is there.” That was enough of a yes for me to make writing a priority like it had never been before.
Fast forward to the Realm Makers’ Writer’s Conference in 2022. James L. Rubart was teaching a class and said something that stopped me in my tracks.
“Desire reveals design. Design reveals destiny.”
Said another way, your desire is the confirmation the destination is there. That confirmed to me I was on the right track.
But I had to release my work to God. He says this is my destiny. If he is for me, who can be against me? I had to let go of all outcomes, and stop looking for external validation.
That release gave me the strength to push Pinocchio’s nose right back into his face and say I’m no longer so scared of rejection and failure.
The battle rages on
Every now and again, Pinocchio still tries to rear his ugly head. He’ll whisper things like, “no one is going to read your book”, or “even if someone reads your book, they’re going to hate it.”
They might. You might. You might think it’s terrible. That’s okay. We can still be friends. Because I’m willing to risk it. This is my destination and my destiny. Together, with the Creator.
I will not hide my creativity from the world.
So why do I write?
When I told my story, I said my new dream was “to bring into the open things hidden from the time of Eden… through your gifting, with the Creator.” (A quote from author and speaker Allen Arnold.)
With the Creator. With God.
But what does that mean on a practical level?
It means I write for people who are just like me. People who struggle with feeling like they are hopeless, worthless, or useless. People who believe they will never measure up and never be enough.
Through my stories, I seek to tear down every barrier, and smash every warped philosophy that stands between us and finding the truth that leads to love, acceptance, worth, value, meaning, and purpose that we all so desperately want and need.