What if…a dispatch from delusion town?

Too many metaphors, I’m sorry! Or am I? 😈

Hello!

In the last 14 days, I have written 16,042 words. This is not counting morning pages, texting my friends about Lisa Barlow, the writing I do for my day job, and the words you are reading right now. Of those 16,042 words, I have published exactly zero of them. A wild experience for me! While at first, I thought working on a book-length project would be an exercise in self-control, I’m coming to learn—for me anyway—that it’s more of a daily dance with delusion. 

I am both a slut for instant gratification and a lover of long-term self-flagellation. This is not a binary. The types of projects I’ve unknowingly gravitated toward up until recently have been contained. The idea burrs its way into my noggin, seemingly by immaculate conception. I sit down and begin thinking/writing, and I don’t get up until I’m more or less done. There’s often an editor involved, but the actual making of the thing, the big outpour, is done in a manic 4 to 48 hours. My creative process has always been akin to the grasshoppers in A Bugs Life: “We come, we eat, we leave.” 

That doesn’t mean I don’t commit long term. Just that this quick-turn process is repeated within finite bounds. For six years, I wrote at least one little book review each week. Thirty-four separate times, I wrote 1300+ words about the same handful of rich ladies doing things. Four weeks, then six, I got on Zoom and taught a class. I am very comfortable being a repeat customer, but the shopping spree always has a time limit. Whatever brain chemicals come with the installment’s completion keep me coming back. 

Arguably coming back too many times in some cases. But if you’re used to making art outside of a traditional establishment and within the confines of the internet, I think it’s easy to end up like the rat in Skinner’s Box. Pressin’ my little levers, collectin’ my little prizes. Over the last few years, I’ve found tons of different levers to press, with all sorts of new prizes that pop out, but the mechanism is still the same. The effort to reward pipeline made impossibly short. 

A few months ago, a big scary idea wormed its way into my brain. And each day, it grew bigger. I tried ignoring it. Then conditions in my life forced me to ignore it. But it held fast. Now, I am playing with it like a new puppy. The puppy is occasionally well-behaved, and on most days, we have a grand ol’ time together regardless. But approximately every 18 hours, the fear creeps in and finds new ways to tell me I am not deserving of a puppy and am going to impossibly fuck the puppy up with my poor training and enrichment techniques. And the puppy will grow into a warped and useless adult and it will be the ultimate travesty of my life. (This metaphor fell apart real quick because I’m actually great and experienced with dogs, so just pretend I’m clueless.)

I’m learning the only way to get through this, to carry on sans rat-lever rewards, is a community of delusion. The girlies on TikTok are all in their “delulu is the solulu” era. I was going to quote a well-articulated article or whatever here, but in true delusion fashion, I will point you to this LinkedIn influencer #content and this explainer on Yahoo Sports (LOL), which I’m fairly confident was written at least 82% by AI. Delusion doesn’t require rigorous analysis! So I am opting out, running on what is working for now: metaphor mindsets and the pals who enable them.

I was talking to my partner the other day about delusion’s role in each of our creative practices. As we are wont to do, we anthropomorphized our little delulus. His exists adjacent to the Minions cinematic universe and speaks very quietly, unless emboldened by the brief silence of doubt. Mine is a puffy pink cloud that blocks out logic, passing me down tufts of maple-flavored sugar floss to keep my brain alive. Some days, the delusion cloud doesn’t visit. And for that, there’s horse mode. 

Horse mode is an articulation (shoutout Kayla!) of an existence I’m intimately familiar with. It’s where you put the blinders on and burrow forward. In the past, I’ve almost exclusively gone horse mode because of external pressure: a deadline, a promise, a fear of failure. Over the last few weeks, I’ve found a new flavor of horse mode (pony mode perhaps?): the tiny audience. It’s damn near impossible to work on a months-long project when every day you think of every possible person who could stumble upon it. If I just imagine a picnic table filled with the besties, the enablers, the champions of my absurdity? It’s easy to gallop on over. Write my daily words directly to them. 

In theory anyway. In reality, I am 313 words into today’s goal, but writing this newsletter instead of facing something slightly complex. Praxis isn’t always possible.   

This newsletter brought to you by:

• A 30-day free trial of Scrivener.

• The return of Virgin River, which I absolutely do not recommend.

• The kind of trail mix that also includes M&Ms and is essentially just candy.

• All the people who responded to my SOS call for friends also working on book-length projects. A lifeline!!