Memoir Milestones: Embracing the Joy and Sadness of Completion
“You are never too old to set a new goal or to dream a new dream.” - C.S. Lewis
On Friday, September 13th, I finished the second draft of my memoir. I was sixteen days ahead of my deadline with a word count that clocked in at 86,878 (6,000 more than my goal).
Side note: For those who know me, completing this draft on Friday the 13th is very appropriate given my love of horror and it being the main fiction I write aside from nonfiction. 😈
Anyway, back to this major milestone and celebration.
It’s funny because no one tells you that, as a writer, when you complete drafts, there is a bittersweetness to it. You get this immense feeling of pride, of absolute astonishment that you finished this massive project. But on the other side, you feel sad because you spent so much time and energy with the words, that it’s odd to now be… done.
You work on it for months, restructuring chapters, deleting scenes that no longer matter, and adding fresh ones that spruce up the plot, all to ensure it reads at a smoother clip.
In some cases, you “kill your darlings,” removing characters that don’t serve the story. When writing a memoir, it’s a little harder to do this since some people in your life may have come at the right moment, did what they needed to do, and moved on. That’s why, as memoirists, we must employ some fiction in our story and combine people or slightly adjust their roles.
Looking back, I didn’t have to do this much. There were some people I left out because their presence would have been minimal and it was easier for me to give their impact to someone who was more present.
All in all, I love this draft and am happy with the changes I made.
When I told my therapist in the next session that I finished the second draft, she shot up from her chair, her joy radiating outward.
“Oh my god!” she said, her voice rising in pitch. “This is huge! Do you realize how far you’ve come?”
Throughout my therapy sessions, she has been one of the biggest cheerleaders of this book, believing the impact it’s going to have will be immense. During one session, she asked me, “What are your biggest dreams and goals with this book? Dream big. What is your best-case scenario?”
I knew almost instantly what my answer was.
“Obviously, I want the book to sell well,” I started. “But big dreams I would say that I want this book to open the door for me to travel and speak to people who need to hear its message. Not just about asexuality, but also authenticity and that living your truth is the only path that matters. Asexuality will still play a big role in that, but my ultimate dream would be to travel and speak about my experiences of living to your true self.”
She wasn’t surprised by this response, even though I’ve noted in previous sessions my fear of public speaking. Truth is, public speaking doesn’t scare me. It’s speaking about something that I’m not passionate about that scares me. When I speak about something that inspires me, moves me, and lights me up, I can talk for hours.
(I’ve had countless 30+ minute conversations with friends, family, and co-workers about books and movies to prove this statement.)
I’ve had friends tell me I should consider motivational speaking. I never considered it before, but writing this memoir and letting its message soak into me far deeper than I imagined it would, has given me a new perspective on that choice.
Even my therapist gave me more options outside of general LGBTQIA+-related talks.
She is currently going for her sex therapy license and told me, “When the book is published, I’ll have to introduce you to my professors. They would love to have someone like you talk to their students about this kind of thing, especially if they get patients who are asexual. There’s also a big conference in June you could potentially speak at.”
“I’d love that,” I replied. “A lot of the asexual books I read always mention how some asexuals don’t have supportive therapists because they don’t understand asexuality or waved it off as some kind of deeper fear.”
“There you go. You can teach them the kind of thoughts an asexual person might have that will help them with future patients.”
That night, while reflecting on the session, I couldn’t get that idea out of my head. Could this work? Might this book be the key I’ve been waiting for?
Another thing we talked about was the naysayers that will no doubt enter my orbit. I’m already anticipating the general close-minded comments like:
“I’ll make you like sex.”
“You’re just scared of commitment.”
“Asexuality isn’t real, no one just wants to sleep with you.”
“Why would you want to live a life alone?”
In this digital age, I’m well aware that those comments and more will come, but as I told my therapist, “Let them.”
If someone needs to try and squash my story beneath their boot, they have issues, not me. No comment–no matter how nasty or ignorant–will change the fact that this book single-handedly adjusted the trajectory of my life.
Time will tell how much so, but it already has.
Regardless of what happens, it’s never a bad thing to dream big, to take exactly what you want and voice it out. “Air your ambitions” I heard someone say once.
When you’re not ashamed to say, out loud, what you want, you welcome that energy into your life.
“I think you’ve been inviting this change into your life for a long time,” my therapist said. “And you are going to reap the benefits sooner than you think.”
No matter what happens with this book, if one person tells me that reading it inspired them to tell their personal story, I will feel I have done my job.
Because another big goal of this book is to inspire those orientations we don’t hear from enough to share their stories. Pansexuals, demisexuals, gender fluid, and more. I want them to know their stories are needed.
Even if no one tells me this, I will be proud nonetheless.
This memoir allowed me to say what I couldn’t say to the hearts I broke because I couldn’t reciprocate their feelings. This book allowed me to explain asexuality in terms my dad–and perhaps other ace parents–might understand. A glimpse into the mind, the thought process, and the worry that clouds our minds.
I look forward to diving into the final round of revisions in the coming days, which will consist mainly of cleaning up sentences, ensuring the point I’m making is clear and concise, and changing the real names of people for privacy.
Once this revision is complete, it’s off to my agent and then the book proposal prep begins. 😱
Until next time, my friend, I hope this message teaches you that having mixed feelings about finishing a project–no matter what kind–is normal. While celebration is in order, it’s also fine if you feel a sense of sadness. The more personal the project, the more those feelings may be mixed and you have every right to sit with both of them.
Just always make sure you celebrate because you did it!
If you’re a writer–or a creative person in general–how do you feel when you complete a big project? Do you find it bittersweet as I do? If you’re not a writer/creative, how do you feel when a major project is finished?
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This is phenomenal! So exciting and one step closer to being published! 🎉