Every November is a big month for people in the writing community. It’s known as National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo.
NaNoWriMo is also a nonprofit that promotes creative writing worldwide, but the challenge it promotes every year is encouraging writers to produce a 50,000 word manuscript by the end of the month. It’s a field day for any writer on social media (#NaNoWriMo), any writer with a public platform whatsoever, to signal and support other writers during the month.
It’s not a bad thing, it’s really nice. But like anything, it can feel overwhelming, like an assignment hanging over your head. “I have to do this or I’m not a real writer”. But you are. I am. I don’t have to write a book in 30 days to prove it.
I don’t like being forced or obligated to do things, and I think most people don’t. I have enough on my plate. I have a job, kids, a marriage, a house, a life I am responsible for. Plenty of things inside that life bring me joy and fulfillment, but a lot of the time, those things feel like work and aren’t always fun. I can handle all of them, because I have to, and I’d rather not fail at them. But they are obligations nonetheless.
Now, should I be producing some regular written material if I want to consider myself a writer? Yes, and thanks to this column, I do. But I’m learning that I really don’t feel creatively inspired when I feel pressured to create something.
Conversely, the things I choose to do in addition to that (my podcast, this column, other writing projects, reading), I’d prefer those to not feel like assignments. I don’t have to write a manuscript simply because it’s November. I can do that in March, or never, if I don’t feel like it. I don’t have to watch a new movie and produce a podcast about it within 2 weeks of its release date. I can talk about that movie anytime, or never, if I don’t feel like it.
It’s not bad luck to say “no” to trends and it’s not bad karma to say “no” to things you really don’t want to do, if you don’t have to do them.
Everything is a choice. Choices become heavier or lighter because we assign value or meaning to them. That value is often not a product of your own investment, you just thought you had to do it because other people might expect you to do it.
Writing a manuscript in 30 days is a stunt. I admit, it’s a fun stunt with a noble purpose: to get writers out of their heads and simply writing. The hardest part of writing, for me, is the analysis paralysis. Writers don’t often want to get started because the thought of having to start over once you’ve realized it’s not working is uncomfortable. Some of us love the revision process, but spend too much time in the idea stage, trying to make sure everything makes sense before we write a single word.
These are all valid ways to write, there’s no wrong way, and that includes binge writing during NaNoWriMo. I just don’t want any other anxious introverts to feel an extra burden on themselves because of something that someone who isn’t their boss or partner tells them they should do, or else their identity is in question.
If you couldn’t tell, this essay is about more than just writing, it’s also about life.
You’re an adult, you can do whatever you want.
I don’t have to do this essay. It’s not my job, no one’s paying me to do it, nothing bad happens if I don’t do it. But I choose to do it. It makes me a better writer if I don’t skip a deadline on these things. If I decide that I need some time off, I take it. I’m not then a bad writer just because I’m on a break from one project.
I don’t have to watch the latest Disney+ show just because other people keep talking about it on social media. I don’t have to see the latest superhero film in theaters. I don’t have to watch college football just to fit in with my relatives.
I don’t have to have a social media presence at all simply because most people I know are on social media. I don’t have to scroll a news feed just because I’m bored. I don’t have to read or respond to asinine user comments on divisive or shallow articles.
I don’t have to please other people. I don’t have to compromise my comfort zone, my values, my mental health, simply in order to meet the expectations of other people. I struggle with this because I spent 30 years as a people pleaser and now I’m a recovering people pleaser who needs constant support to feel confident enough to establish boundaries with people who probably are accustomed to my saying “yes” to them.
It’s really hard, but as I mentioned in last month’s essay, it’s worse to remain in an untenable situation than it is to do the work of making changes in your life. If you don’t want to have dinner with someone, you don’t have to. They might be disappointed. That’s ok. They’ll get over it. You can handle disappointing someone else, and they can handle being disappointed. It’s going to be fine.
You should go to church if you want to go to church, not because someone else thinks you should go to church and you’re too insecure to risk not living up to that person’s expectations of you. If that sounds like a relationship in your life, you need to love yourself and recognize that you’re lovable, regardless of other people’s criteria for your worth.
You decide your expectations, not someone else. You set the course for your life, you get to envision your authentic self, decide how you want to live, and then commit to living that way.
Economics obviously throw a wrench in this kind of thinking. Many of us have to work in jobs that we do not want in order to make a living. This country is replete with unfulfilled employees who would rather be somewhere else, doing something else with their talents, and pursuing a more meaningful existence and are only working where they work because it’s secure and meets their economic needs. In order to keep that job, compromises are made, values are diluted, ignored, or temporarily muted to serve the paycheck, the health insurance access, the means necessary to meet our material needs and those of our dependents.
I have been, and to some degree still am, part of this contingent. I realize a fully authentic life is out of reach for most people. But it shouldn’t be.
I tell my kids all the time that everything is a trade-off. Authentic living is possible, it just requires adjustment. Life can get better and you can live it more on your own terms, you just might have to radically change your standard of living in order for less to become more.
We could afford to save up for a vacation every year if we sold one of our cars, and the maintenance, fuel, and insurance coverage that we pay to go with it. The problem is, for that awesome trip once a year, we’re spending 350+ miserable days every year navigating the logistics of sharing one vehicle for 2 working adults and 4 kids at varying schools, with varying schedules (not to mention we’d be completely screwed if that one vehicle had a mechanical problem). So that’s possible. But that’s not realistic or workable.
Americans are having to come up with creative ways to tighten their belts yet again (even though the economy is kicking ass right now, most of us are struggling). For many of us, reducing costs is not possible. The main area where we can make change is in our entertainment.
With streaming services increasing their prices every couple of months this year, and the internet signal needed to stream their content getting more expensive, many people are (not) surprised to discover that they may be paying as much for multiple streaming services as they used to pay for cable. The amount of money that is lost every month by consumers, combined with the sheer impossibility of getting your money’s worth from them within the span of a single month, makes for an anxiety-inducing entertainment experience at home.
How can you justify spending a combined $50-60 every month for 4-6 services, when you are only watching maybe one season of television and a handful of films every month? It’s not just about the money, it’s also the fact that you’re spending that time sedentary. If you’re actually paying attention to what you’re watching (not listening on a treadmill in public, or scrolling your phone at home while the TV is on), then while I’m proud of you for actively engaging with the material, you’re spending a whole lot of time just passively consuming from a bed or a couch.
I’m not judging you. I do this, too. In fact, I take it so much further. Because of the amount I’m spending, I feel obligated to make a certain amount of use of streaming services so that I don’t have to admit to myself that I’m wasting money. But all that Watchlist adding, view scheduling, and month-tracking, that makes a man want to jump into the Sea of Simulation.
Seriously, give us Tron 3
I justify watching so much because I do a podcast. But if I’m honest with myself, I’m just a person with ADHD who likes to dive into lore, and since so much of narrative entertainment today is franchise-based or part of a series, the ability to judge a work of art as a singular thing requires dozens of hours of your time if you’re to be qualified to evaluate it holistically.
You can’t really talk about the “Creed” films without first watching the “Rocky” movies (but not “Rocky V”, woof). You can’t judge the MCU without starting from the beginning with Iron Man (good luck at this point, you poor bastard, you). You can’t really fully appreciate “Ahsoka” without having seen all of “The Clone Wars” and “Star Wars Rebels” (lol have a nice life, pal). There’s too many options, too many things are tied to too many other things, and there’s too much of it coming at you at once.
It dawned on me for the hundredth time that I’m choosing this chaos, and that I must be addicted to it in intermittent doses because I know it’s bad for me, yet I return to it time and again, in spite of negative consequences (poor mental health), expecting different results.
I don’t have to keep up. None of us do. We’re just conditioned to believe that we have to because advertising, social media trends, memes, and TikTok videos punish us when we fall behind, highlighting our Fear Of Missing Out and making us feel out of the loop for failing to understand a reference.
But the thing is, we don’t need to do those things, either.
We don’t have to participate in attention economy distractions like social media. We don’t have to pay attention to ads. We don’t have to consume. We can create. We can just be.
This is really hard for a lot of us these days, because we’ve socialized ourselves away from stillness and towards noise and bright colors and disposable, short-form media consumption. A lot of people struggle to sit still and engage with their own thoughts, unable to be in their emotions and ask themselves why they might be feeling the way they’re feeling.
They say “if you want to know why you do something, stop doing it.”
Stop drinking alcohol and you might learn that you only do it because you have awful social anxiety, in which case, you need therapy, not booze.
Stop scrolling social media for 30 days and you might learn that you only do it because you don’t want to confront thoughts about your failing relationship while you finally go to sleep.
Stop eating sugary breads multiple times per day and you might learn that you are only eating because you’re bored or nervous. (A lot of maladaptive behavior is just avoidance and anxiety).
Who do you want to be? I want to be someone who reads and writes. I do both of those things, but I want to do a lot more of them. I don’t really want or need to be someone who watches a lot of things. It’s just not realistic, useful, or seasonally appropriate for where I am in my life.
I’ve said before that you should enjoy what you’re doing. If you’re not, then stop and do something else. I’m not advocating for rampant hedonism, pleasure has its boundaries, but I am saying that one of the only perks of being an adult is our freedom to spend our time how we want. We should all be doing this instead of whittling away our most valuable resource on things that we’re only doing to avoid condemnation from people who don’t have a say in our actions to begin with.
There’s a reason your parents and grandparents are constantly rewatching reruns of their favorite old TV shows. They’re tired of trying to keep up, and they want to spend their time enjoying the things they already know they like. This has its downsides, but I’m feeling this already in my mid-30s. But instead of unplugging, sticking my head in the sand, and only consuming a closed loop of bias-confirming entertainment, my version of this will be different.
In my version, there’s a pledge. Say it with me:
“I will watch, read, and listen to what I want, when I want, and not when I don’t. I will not allow market forces, advertisers, algorithms, or social pressure decide how I spend my leisure time. My time belongs to me, my mind belongs to me, and my decisions are my own. I will pursue a fulfilling life by practicing self-reflection, knowing myself, and making my own choices.”
To that point, I’ll be taking a break from the column for the winter months.
I have a lot on my plate that I have been pushing aside. Some of it is other writing, and I need to relieve myself from this obligation for a short while in order to make significant strides on that project. It can be exhausting to mine my psyche for these essays in the midst of other forms of chaos. I’ll still be publishing the Knick Knacks newsletter every month, but there will be no new essays until March.
I was serious when I said “You Don’t Have to Do That.” I was serious when I said that my winter would be a period of scaling back my creative pursuits and working on fewer things for a while. You can still go back and read my back catalogue on here, they were written to be evergreen. I sometimes go back and read them again just to help get my shit together. That’s why they exist in the first place.
Thanks to any of my new friends at the Mobile Writer’s Guild who have been reading my work. Your fellowship has been encouraging.
Stay tuned for the recommendations in my newsletter, and I’ll be back in the Spring with new writing!