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I’ve spent the last several months in pursuit of a wide array of goals. Sometimes, the chase ended with significant, meaningful wins! Finishing a new manuscript. Discovering I’m capable of running 10Ks. Falling in love. But I’ve also experienced a number of setbacks, and exchanges that ended in bad news, and these are the incidents that keep drawing my attention like moths to a flame.
I’m hesitant to speak too soon, lest doing so break the spell, but so far 2024 has been… really good to me? Who would have thought! (Not me) True, there is a *lot* going on, and my brain feels like a hornet’s nest as I try to juggle it all. But still, after years of what I often felt to be living in limbo, it feels good to be moving forward.
I am very close now to completing a new manuscript. It is the second book I’ve started writing since finishing Wildbound, but the first I will finish, which makes the upcoming milestone all the more exciting for me. (The story of the previous project is for another day—and a nice glass of wine.)
A couple of months ago, I hit a rough patch in which I spent two weeks unable to write a single word. There were too many things on my mind I couldn’t set aside, too many distractions immediately accessible any time I opened my laptop.
Join me on Instagram next month (@elayneabecker) for a summer readalong of Wildbound! Over the course of three weeks, I’ll be reading the book and sharing various insights and behind-the-scenes tidbits via my stories.
I have often lived my life in pursuit of five years down the line. I am fixated on the future, energized and paralyzed by the possibility of it. What could things be like if only I do X and Y now? Determined to find out, I push myself hard to be productive—and with writing most of all.
The world in the WIP is different than any I’ve written in before, because it’s not totally and completely a fantasy I’ve created. Instead, it’s heavily inspired by a very real place in the real world. Scotland, to be precise.
Scenes from a snowy cabin in Minnesota. A few days in which I was able to focus solely on writing, no other obligations knocking at the door.
Lately, I’ve come to understand that cultivating joy is a survival strategy. Having read Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning long ago, I’m not a newcomer to this concept. But even so, historically I have set aside the lesson in favor of the opposite course.