Do you get the feeling, when you finally have the time and energy--all the time and energy you need to write, and you stare at a blank page with nothing coming out?
Well, that has yet to happen to me. When I see a blank page, I have the urge to fill it with something, anything. It can be meaningful or crappy, parts of a story that I recently read and loved, or a song that I've always listened to; a new fiction piece, poems, or drawings. But what does happen to me--and all the more easily since I have the whole 'spaces' thing on our Mac--is that I put the document somewhere else, another space, for example, and conveniently forget about it. Oh, I don't put it out of my mind entirely--not possible since I can see the light under the OpenOffice icon telling me that document is open--but things keep coming up. I think, I'll just talk to thisone on facebook, or, I'll just update my bio over here, or whatever. I always have something constructive to do, and keep putting it off until- surprise, surprise, it's midnight and I can hardly keep my eyes open.
Well, that has yet to happen to me. When I see a blank page, I have the urge to fill it with something, anything. It can be meaningful or crappy, parts of a story that I recently read and loved, or a song that I've always listened to; a new fiction piece, poems, or drawings. But what does happen to me--and all the more easily since I have the whole 'spaces' thing on our Mac--is that I put the document somewhere else, another space, for example, and conveniently forget about it. Oh, I don't put it out of my mind entirely--not possible since I can see the light under the OpenOffice icon telling me that document is open--but things keep coming up. I think, I'll just talk to thisone on facebook, or, I'll just update my bio over here, or whatever. I always have something constructive to do, and keep putting it off until- surprise, surprise, it's midnight and I can hardly keep my eyes open.
Right now, for example, I'm supposed to be working on a piece of fanfic that I started an eternity ago. I recently posted the first chapter up on--uh uh uh, I'm not telling you where! The point is, it's on there, and if I'm going to be updating on a regular, possibly weekly, basis, I need more than the nine chapters I've already written, because I'm already through three, and so have only six possible weeks to crank out several more chapters. I've discovered several things through this, my only piece of grown-up writing. By 'grown-up' I mean planned, with a thread and consistent characters, and--very dimly--an end in view. I work on the characterisations through small pieces that may start off as chapters but are relegated to simply being there. It turns out that great writers do not, as previously assumed, simply pour beautiful words onto paper. No, there is editing and cutting out and writing more than your reader will ever read involved. Which is great and all, but so annoying! I mean, I'll probably end up posting about 50% of what I actually write!! Therefore the procrastinating, and sighing and ranting.
Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be any good as a writer. Then I smack myself upside the head, take a break from the computer and go get a chocolate smoothie.
Love,
BdK.
PS I think suicide threats work when asking for comments. Or maybe my brother's just lucky and people like to read what he thinks. *is pouting though you can't see her*
Comment, please? Tell me I'm not useless at writing, and I'll thank you for it.
if this will cheer u
ReplyDeleteyou are not useless at writing
Oh, joy. But thnx for commenting!
ReplyDelete