8/9/2023
Amed. Bali

Dear Friend,

I’ve taken to writing on the cliffs. I sip jasmine tea and admire the shades of blue stretching out to the horizon. Thousands of palm leaves shake along the hillside and I feel the same breeze soft on my skin. The pages in my journal flip back and forth. I’m writing this novel by hand. I’m also typing it. It depends on my mood. Sometimes, I can’t bare to look at the laptop screen. Curse digital words! Hand me an inky pen!

There is no such thing as writers block in my life. If one door won’t open, I go find another way in. If words won’t be typed then they will be scribbled. If paper is unappetizing too then I will make notes on my phone. I’ve learned that typing with only my thumbs is a completely different flavor of experience than typing with all ten fingers. Thumbs, hands and pens, big screens, small screens and paper. Some characters feel safer showing up on paper. Their voices sound different when poured out in ink. Editing is fun on the laptop, tedious on the phone and nearly impossible on in the paper notebook.

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When I write the story by hand, I am committing to flowing forward. Whatever idea comes to me next, I roll with it and the story has to shape around one idea at a time, each one building on the one before. On the laptop, pieces the puzzle can move around, copying and pasting their way into sense. On the paper, I see plot holes and contradictions open up before my eyes and there’s nothing I can do about it apart from fit the next idea in. On paper, it’s like improvisational theater. Just go with it. Say YES and keep going. We’ll end up with something interesting in the end.

One day, I will be typing up these words that were handwritten. For now, the handwriting is my way into this fantasy realm when I’m tired of working and in the mood to just create without the pressure to be perfect. Strange, isn’t it? It’s more pressure to write by hand because I cannot easily revise. I must commit to what I just wrote and move forward with it. This pressure to commit actually gives me freedom to keep going. I don’t get stuck in indecision or the overwhelm of endless possibilities. Make a choice and go. This pressure squeezes me and then I pop through with a light heart. I want to create with this lightheart, never taking myself or my work seriously while always being very seriously devoted to the process of creating. I’m seriously devoted to not being serious.

And so today, I watch a large sailboat drifting in the bay and I write a scene about a dragon who is changing colors while a little girl throws a tantrum and a man falls asleep. I re-read words I wrote months ago and I’m laughing to myself to feel that they were written by another woman…a woman I used to be. Writing this book is a transformational process because it’s exposing me to a new way of experiencing life; it is a daily norm for me to exist under heavy pressure while also giggling with playful imagination. It is the classic metaphor of the diamond. It’s an intense process to sparkle so vibrantly. Totally worth it in these moments when I pause to reflect. Totally a pain in the ass and a simple pleasure the rest of the time.

Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde

PS: This book is a puzzle with a hundred thousand pieces. I’ve never enjoyed puzzles. This is the most complex puzzle I’ve ever faced and the first one I’m truly devoted to completing. I review everything I’ve written and at first I’m nervous to see how many different versions of the character I’ve written about…and then I wonder…is this just the character’s arch? I’ve written about her in so many ways, in so many places and times because she has moved through all of that from where she started to where she is now. Her story is a journey and I’m actually seeing the journey laid out before me. It’s a lot of to take in and tie together seamlessly. Right now, this book is just piles of puzzle pieces grouped by color.

Dear Friend, My Book is a Puzzle