So, after thinking a bit about my mountain trip, I finally came up with a writing analogy. A pretty basic one and really non-creative. Ascending the mountain is pretty much like writing a novel.
Both fits are a lengthy process that requires the right state of mind, determination, inspiration, and readiness to go on. Both have a sort of final goal, like getting to the top or putting the last dot.
Also, both those actions have one important thing that makes climbing a mountain a damn nice analogy – unexpected complications, challenges, and difficulties.
No matter how ready you are, how fit you think you are, how motivated and inspired you are, all these things will get you only so far. Right until the first rocky path (literally and metaphorically). The best metaphor I faced during my climb was my leg. I was ready for a lot of stuff, except that my left leg went out of shape in the first hour of scaling. Further inconveniences, like a track full of real climbs, lack of hydration, and scorching sun, were just a nice addition to the already existing salad of difficulties.
The same thing with writing. Initial idea, inspiration, and motivation give you an impulse big enough to start and write as many chapters as you can. But there’s always this moment when you stumble. When you’re feeling cornered. When you’re tired and just not ready to go on today, tomorrow. You know?
And the same as with mountains, it is just a question of the mindset. Whether you’re ready to prevail and reach the top. Personally, as with writing novels, same with climbing the mountain – quitting wasn’t an option for me. It was never even in the back of my mind. What was on my mind was a break. I took breaks to catch my breath and give my leg time to recover and calm down a bit. And every time, I had to make a mental push to get up and move on.
At some point, I knew that taking breaks for too long would bring more harm than good. And now it was a real struggle to make myself get up every time and move on. Through the pain, fatigue, dehydration, and the worst of all, my own damn brain kept telling me you can take your time, just take a break and finish it later. Yep, the analogy with writing a novel at times is just perfect.
And surprisingly, the solution to the problem was damn easy and hard at the same time – just do it. Step by step. I kept repeating this to myself, made it sort of motto, sort of prayer. Just one more step. And again. Every next step brings me closer to the final goal. Just take another step. And then another one. If you take enough steps, eventually, you’ll get there.
Same with writing. At times, I feel so powerful I can go on with 5-6k words per day. And at times, I don’t have it. That’s where this approach of just take another step comes in. I write 100 words. Then maybe I’ll go on with 500 words. Before I know it, there’s a chance that I’ll end up with solid 2k words and a feeling of deep satisfaction. And even if not, even 100 words are pushing it forward.
As with climbing up, every next step was a separate battle, every next turn was a separate battle, every next mountain is a separate battle. The same very thing happens with writing, too. Every next day of writing is a separate battle. Every next chapter is a separate battle. Every next novel is a separate battle. I wasn’t thinking of the steps I made just a second ago. They were in the past, they were already made. Some steps were perfect and easy, some lousy and unsure, but they were made, they were behind, and now what was more important was the next step in front of me. The next step I was going to make. No pressure, no unnecessary high expectations.
And believe me, there were some expectations. There was a moment where visually it felt like I finally reached the straight before the finish line, only to understand that what seemed like the final stretch was nothing but a little rest area to take a break before going for almost half of the path I already made. My reaction? Fuck. That’s it. Only this time, I gave myself some more time to rest before getting up and going on.
So, yeah, no expectations. Just do your things. Step by step. Rock by rock. Climb by climb. And eventually, you’re going to limp to the top, fall on the ground, eat some cookies, drink some tea, write down a couple of thoughts with a shaking hand not to forget on your way back, look around, enjoy the scenery, take a photo as proof that you were there, and… move on.
Yep, the moment of glory, this feeling of satisfaction and achievement exists not for long. Maybe ten minutes or so. Then the reality catches up, where you’ve made 10-12 kilometers, and there are another 10-12 kilometers to get back. Only this time, it’s going to be a little easier since you’re going down. But in the end, you know that it’s going dark, you’re tired, exhausted, drained, and you have to limp all the way to your hotel and call it a day. There will be no medal, no appreciation. Just you and maybe someone who you shared this journey with will know that you did it.
I think this is a perfect metaphor for writing. Because when you’re putting the final dot (or whatever you put in the end), and you’re done, you have this euphoria. You made it. You finished the novel. You’re done. You told the story. Only then do you realize that you’re a nobody, you don’t have a team of editors and publishers to back you up, and while it’s cool that you’ve finished it, you also have to re-read it, edit it, fix whatever you can fix, prepare for publishing, publish and perhaps expect nothing.
Same as with returning to the hotel, with every published novel, I expect nothing. I just do what I can, I do my best, and that’s it. The rest isn’t up to me (I’m actually lying, if I invested in promotion, chances are my sales would’ve been much higher… but I’m too lazy and don’t care for promotion, oh well).
And this is it. I think I conveyed at least some sort of philosophic idea. I also think I’m far from the first person who noticed this and decided to write about. Chances are, there are more entries like that, and probably they are even written better than mine. But this is my entry, and I’m proud of it. Mainly because I wasn’t planning to write this much. Sometimes life is cool.