repressed woman seeks adventure
but like, doesn't want to die
For the past two weeks, I’ve been revising the first three chapters of my novel-in-progress for submission to a contest and a writing residency. It took me away from drafting so I worried it was a waste of my time—I’m also sure these are super competitive opportunities—but I think it actually helped clarify my vision for the project. I had to read the chapters through a stranger’s eyes, write a synopsis, and craft an artist’s statement.
I don’t want to say too much about my project because idk that feels scary. Bad juju. But I will tell you that I think it’s so fun. I’m trying to write something propulsive and juicy without sacrificing precise, musical prose. I want to write a book you can read on the beach and then talk about in therapy. I want to make you forget about your phone for a little while.
My novel’s main character is not me, but has some things in common with me. Like, her brain is similarly deranged but her actions are more unhinged lol. What I’ll say (and then regret later, when the book is published and everyone comments on its unlikable narrator) is that I relate to my protagonist. In my artist’s statement, I wrote: “My novel in progress seeks to understand what it means to be a married, aging woman who yearns for excitement, but fears pleasure.”
I was referring to the character, but something about seeing it written like that, lol. I was like oh yeah. I guess that’s me too.
I don’t fully know what’s true yet for my character, but here’s the thing about me: do I “yearn” for “excitement”? No, I yearn for like, an assorted cheese plate. But sometimes!! Sometimes my mind does that thing. It’s like, “Oooh but what if I did something crazy. What if I was WILD.” And I’ll daydream about that a little. But all of those daydreams are fantasies about something that would feel exciting in the moment but have much longer, life-altering consequences. And I know I don’t actually want that.
But I think there’s some kind of medium I’d like to reach. I don’t want to blow up my life, but I also don’t want to feel so scared of doing something kinda risky or adventurous. Like I feel like I live so much of my life in fear. I’m afraid of people thinking something bad about me, I’m afraid of doing something wrong. I’m afraid of looking stupid, being cringe, making a mistake, “getting caught” (don’t even know what that’s referring to but just like in general), irreversibly damaging my life, dying. lol.
I think that’s what my character is a conduit for—she is also afraid, but then she actually does something adventurous. Through her, I get to be adventurous too. I’m grateful to have found that loophole. But something about writing that artist’s statement really made it clear to me that the adventurousness isn’t real. It’s just in my head. Am I okay with that?
I’ve been thinking about behavioral changes I could make that would bring me more risk and adventure without ruining my life. lol. But maybe in order for something to actually feel risky you have to kind of think “this could potentially ruin my life.” I wonder what it would feel like to think that. Is it a thrill? And then after the fact, is there a high from being like “damn that actually didn’t ruin my life”?
Are you guys all as repressed as me or do I sound insane?
My intention behind this post is also kind of to crowdsource information. What do you do in your life (or maybe, what have you done) that has felt risky and/or adventurous, but still values-aligned? Does it satisfy you? Like, what does it feel like hahaha. I am actually asking this and I genuinely would love for you to answer. You could be extra risky/adventurous and do it in the comments, or you can reply to this email or DM me if you want to share privately.
My brain just literally can’t even think of risky things to do. Or ok, it can. But I’m scared of them :) I guess that’s the fucking point, huh.
Back to the artist’s statement—“My novel in progress seeks to understand what it means to be a married, aging woman who yearns for excitement, but fears pleasure”—I guess I have to address that the second half of this sentence is indeed so me as well. I do fear pleasure. It’s related to the risk aversion. Part of the reason that I’m afraid to take risks is because I’m afraid I’ll like it. I’m afraid I’ll like it so much that I’ll take it too far. Feeling good scares me. It doesn’t make sense, because that’s also all I want, a permanent state of feel-good. Feel-good meaning: a life with no problems, no bad feelings, just peace and contentment. But the idea of that scares me too. No problems??? But problems are like, kinda my thing. Who am I without my problems??
I’m afraid to take risks to get what I want because I’m afraid of what I want. I don’t know what I want because what if what I want is wrong. I’m afraid to feel good because what if something bad makes me feel good. My understanding of bad and good is so fucked up.
It’s hard to put words to this feeling—I want something I’m scared of. I’m scared of what I want. I yearn for excitement but I also don’t, I also love peace and stability. Adventure just isn’t complementary of my temperament. My most recurring algorithm-based instagram ad is for a retainer cleaner. But what if fear has been tricking me into thinking I don’t want adventure? What if my temperament has just been shaped by fear all along?
I want to challenge the thought that “this is just the way I am.” What if I could be something different?
LPB RECOMMENDSSSSS
this week i recommend checking in with yourself when you are doing something (scrolling, eating, drinking, watching tv) and asking, “do I actually like this?” If the answer is no, stop doing it and do something else. lol. please subscribe for more wisdom like this :)
+ Reading: I adored/was deeply inspired by I Love Dick by Chris Kraus, and this morning I started Scumbag Summer by Jillian Luft. I found Jillian’s work via the twitter/lit mag scene. She writes yearning for dirtbag, musician guys in a way that’s both edgy and tender, with a reverent depth that isn’t often afforded to that topic. Also, she’s so nice. I had like 8 followers and I complimented one of her pieces—not only did she kindly engage with my message, but she went and read something I wrote and then complimented me right back! That’s so sweet and rare. (Also, this happened 2 years ago and I still remember it. We should be nice to people about their work! It leaves an impression!)
+ Writing: I officially hit 40k words!! & I have a meeting with my friend Brittany Ackerman this morning that I’m really excited about. We’ve been sharing our current projects with each other in 30 page increments, giving feedback and compliments and sharing in one another’s excitement. As of today, she’s read 90 pages of my novel and I’ve read 90 of hers. You guys are going to LOVE what she’s writing. I have never read anyone capture teenage anxiety so well; she takes bone-deep uncomfortable feelings and plops them right in the middle of the fuzzy, fluffy, rhinestone-studded, neon cheetah-print aesthetic of the early-aughts. Reading her stuff is a felt sense experience. Check out her novel, The Brittanys, and you’ll see what I mean.
Meeting with Brittany has not only given me new perspective on my project (she is the most wonderful, careful reader), but it has held me accountable for staying committed to the work. It’s also so nice to share this novel, my obsession, with someone else who appreciates it too. There is nothing like hearing your friend say the name of the fictional characters you made up/have crushes on. Find a writing buddy and exchange pages! Would highly recommend!!
& One last thing! dear diary is free, but I’ve added on an option to pay $5/mo if you’d like to support my work. Nothing is going under a paywall, as of now.
Self-esteem coaches and boss babes would not like what I’m going to say next, which is: please don’t feel pressured to pay me, lol. Many of you reading this are either friends/family of mine or writers yourselves, and we all have a million subscriptions and life is expensive and shit adds up. So keep reading for free if that feels good! I’ve just been thinking about how writing these posts does take time and it is work, so I should at least offer myself the opportunity to be paid for it. Maybe this is my risky/adventurous thing, lol. Anyway, love you all and thanks for reading <3
🥲😍😘
ilysm!! Sorry I had to change seats three times at starbys and then my laptop overheated. It’s hard being a literary figure. Also this post made me think about how at my bachelorette party, I was the first one to go to sleep lol and everyone was like “c’mon! Live a little!” And I was like “no!”
Dude I have never related more to that entire statement. I almost can’t put into words how much I relate. Maybe I’ll share specifics anonymously, but for me taking risks recently was not like dangerous physically but mentally/emotionally in nature and that kind of vulnerability to me feels terrifying and is almost scarier than putting myself at risk in more physical situations 😅