One section, on perfectionism, really grabbed me. The author called it a mean and frozen form of idealism, or something like that. Which, as an unabashed perfectionest, I know quite well to be true. The fact that I take so long to do things -- more importantly, that I take so long thinking and planning and agonizing before I actually *start* doing things -- is my way of trying to make everything I do the best I can possibly do it. It also keeps me from starting things at all, because I hesitate to do anything that I know I can't do reasonably well. But that's a problem for another day, and another therapist. XD;; What this has to do with writing, and what I think the author was referring to, is the tendency to not start projects unless and until I think I can do it perfectly. You won't see me charging on ahead with a half-formed idea, prepared to *gasp* write a second draft once I get everything figured out. On a smaller scale, I'll sit for hours staring at my notebook without writing a word, because I'll wait for the whole page to become fully formed in my mind rather than write a few lines that I'll just cross out later.

I have a friend (not sure if she reads this, but *waves* just in case) who once complimented my word choice by comparing it to the act of sifting through so many grains of sand. Or was it rocks? Something like that -- it was lovely metaphorical language, and had to do with picking up and discarding word by word until hitting upon the right one. I was resistant to that characterization, though, because to me it conjures up the image of writing one word or phrase, then crossing it out, then trying the next one -- and no way would I actually put down anything but what I thought were the perfect word choices. :P The thing about perfectionism is that you not only want to have the best words, in the best order, but you want them -- not on your fifth or sixth try -- but the *first* time. All the time. Mistakes are ... *messy,* and even though that in itself isn't bad, there is something irrevocable of putting it on paper or even (heaven forbid) showing it to other people. It ruins any illusion of some perfect, divine inspiration; it breaks the seamless mask of the writing as a "craft" instead of a dirty cluttered process; and it taints the impression of the reader -- because the work is better only subjectively, in *comparison* to the previous version rather than "objectively" (whatever that means) good.

All other things equal, I would just chalk this up as another method of writing and not give it another thought. But the insidious damage of perfectionism is that it's not a mere delay or obstacle in the act of writing; it prevents the writing itself. You know those ideas you have for stories, which you never wrote for some reason or another? I have an obscene amount of those that have been prevented by nothing more than the fear that I wouldn't be able to do it "right." Even now I have plots that I hesitate and shy away from because it's not within my field of expertise, and I don't know enough or haven't practice enough to make it as good as I want it to be. (Here, my constricting perfectionism combines with a paralyzing lack of confidence that prevents me from remedying the situation by researching or doing other preparations -- because if I need all this extra help, I really shouldn't be doing it at all, blah blah blah.) The dilemma is obvious -- if I don't practice, I don't get it right; but if I stumble out there blindly ... I make messy mistakes. :P And if I can't make myself mess up now, when I'm not even considering submitting anything for publication yet, when can I do it? (And at this point, lack of confidence once more barges in, yelling that I won't ever figure it out and get better and I have no chance, etc. etc. etc.)

I have a unique admiration for crappy fanfic writers. You know, the ones who shoot out epic after epic with skeletal plots or awkward prose, but darned if they don't stick with it and keep finishing them, then moving right on to the next one. Because so often, you see them get *better*. Maybe not Pulitzer-worthy, but there's noticeable and laudable improvement that's of the sort that can only be brought about by regular and unflagging practice. Sometimes, I wish very much that I could do that.

Lovely how I can identify the problem (more or less) clearly, but can't do a bloody thing about it. >_> But I did give it a shot last night -- I rewrote a crappy poem. Actually, it's surprising I could bring myself to write it in the first place, if I didn't consider it beautiful and perfect when pencil first touched paper. :P But it felt good. And if only I could make myself rewrite more pieces, or write more crappy poems, or start the bloody fics I've been wrestling with for weeks or months or who knows how long.

At the moment, though, I need to work on the presentation I have to give tomorrow. >_< Eek. *cries*