Learning to navigate

I grew up in a small town, a reservation actually, that had one road, Loop Rd., that looped back on itself. At one end of the road you had two different ways to go: nowhere fast, or nowhere slow.

So I never learned to navigate. When I lived in Santa Fe, I navigated by elevation. Lower-down lead to town and higher-up led back to my dorm. When I lived in New York the streets were nicely laid out in a numbered grid. But now I’m in a city full of odd angles and no sidewalks.

When I first started driving here I printed out turn-by-turn directions. Then cellphones and GPS came along. I sometimes went driving randomly, and would use my phone to get me back home. But I wonder if I could have learned better navigation skills if I’d let go of my anxiety and just went out without a map.

Back when I wasn’t writing, I developed stories in my head and sometimes wrote down outlines. It was like I was sitting at home drawing maps instead of going into the world to learn how to navigate.

Don’t get me wrong, developing a story before writing a draft can be useful. While some writers don’t need an outline, some writers will need that map. But others – like me – need to let go of the map and start driving the story forward.

There comes a point where I have over-prepared and I’m paying hefty opportunity costs.

• I’m wasting time.
• I’m nurturing anxiety.
• I’m killing spontaneity.
• I’m not generating ideas.
• I’m retreading the same path.
• I’m not developing writing skills.

I can overdevelop a story, but I will never overdevelop my writing skills. As Chaucer wrote:

The Lyf so short, the craft so long to Lerne…