Do you know what drives me insane? People who want to know everything. People who study something until the mystery is gone–till it no longer excites them.
I think that’s kind of why I quit writing so much about myself (excluding this blog, of course–I’ll continue this blog). This is to say I haven’t sat down and tried to write a “piece” since I graduated. And this means that I have quit trying to figure out why I do the things I do and why I feel certain ways. People who aren’t nonfiction writers have the luxury of not being as self-aware. As a nonfiction writer, we are trained to kind of see what we’re doing in the moment, to analyze it before we even get the chance to let it happen without thought. And you know what? I love those actions that happen without thought more than any actions in the world. I like when I’m unaware of what I’m doing.
And I think those are the moments that make the best stories. When you can stop in the middle of telling it and say, “I don’t know why I did that…” Because then you get to go on the journey all over again, trying to put yourself into that moment. Why did you do that? And you get a beautiful moment where you either figure it out–or you just have to let it go.
Why did I think it was so cool to have people call me “Ricky” when I was little? No idea. Why was there a phase when I would only answer to “Michael Jackson”? Why the HELL did I ever date the men I did?
But I’m happy not knowing it all right now. I think I’ll put writing on the back burner a little longer. I think I’m starting to act like myself–not a writer. And if you ask me, I think the best writers are the ones who can separate their lives from their writing.
Turn it off for a minute, look around, and live without a plot in your head.