#my new cognitive function is equal parts fascinating and infuriating

[wisterianightmare]

Writing while disabled has been so, so informative to my process; and while some of that information gathering has been devastatingly frustrating I can’t pretend it isn’t making me a more mindful writer.

I’d told myself that once I’d finished “X” number of chapters in my main WIP (you know, the dark JJK slowburn? The one that’s only halfway-ish outlined but still somehow has a 160k wordcount?) I would begin slowly posting. This hasn’t been the reality, mainly because as I’m progressing it’s been very clear that the parts written earlier aren’t of the same caliber of the parts written more recently. You might think: “yeah, that’s obvious Wisty. Drafts are a thing, and we get better the more we practice,” but I’ve never had to write a full-blown second draft before. Maybe that’s wild, but it’s true.

In the past, I’ve been able to edit as I go. I’ve been able to hold onto a complicated thread of thought well enough to really dig into dynamic descriptions and themes without losing sight of what’s coming to fill the rest of the blank pages. I could go back and expand upon things, but I never really needed to evolve the rest of what was already there. My first draft and my final draft were one and the same. Now, half of the time I can’t remember the way my sentence was meant to end while in the middle of writing it. It’s a very different experience.

I’ve been trying my best not to let the frustration (and let’s be honest, the grief, because there is a level of mourning for being trapped inside of the fog of your own mind and being acutely aware of it) keep me from reaping the benefits of actually being forced to slow down and analyze the technical quality of my writing. Let me tell you, I have learned so, so much.

Where my prose used to be florid, I’m now doing more telling than showing. I’m relying on simpler metaphors, failing to layer them as I build the narrative. My characters’ introspection is too clinical, and more reliable than I need it to be… the list goes on. As I struggle with word recall and coherency, the art is just not as artful.

But in addition to being able to identify these things as problems (which is half the battle to be sure), I can also clearly see my good days. I can see where I was able to use my outline as that thread of thought - that reminder of where I’m aiming. I can hear bits and pieces of rhythm that’s beginning to cumulate into voice. Slowing down and relearning my foundational writing skills has clearly fostered improvement, and while my brain might not be the same as it was before, I can be happy and confident in the fact that I’m still able to learn.

[wisterianightmare]

Relearning how to write after brain damage is wild. Like, what do you mean I can’t skip the rough and first draft stages and go straight into a competent draft? What do you mean I need to write what I’m thinking RIGHT THIS SECOND even if it’s just word vomit, because I won’t be able to hold onto the thread of thought if I try to flesh it out first? What do you mean I need to leave egregiously detailed notes to myself before I finish writing for the day, or risk not knowing what I was building toward tomorrow?

I have to be… bad at this first? And then do actual work to turn it into something readable? Nah, fuck off with that bull.