I am really hard on myself when it comes to writing. If you’ve read my blog at all you already know this and are probably sick of me whining about it.
I’ve been thinking more about this recently, because damn—I need to find something that can bring in money that I’m good at and that I enjoy doing… quick. Going home every day and sitting in front of the computer or TV isn’t going to cut it 10 years from now. If my job is never to be rewarding, I need to do something in my spare time that is. I’m 25, healthy, educated, and attractive, so what’s holding me back?
So I got to thinking… and whenever I think about writing I always think back to the novel I wrote. Yes, I wrote a fucking novel. Why can’t I do that again? Then it occurred to me that that was 12 years ago. That is a long time. And what have a written since then? An occasional short story, maybe six really good pages a year if I’m lucky.
So I compared the person I was back then to the person I am now, and looked at the differences in my life that allowed a novel to happen back then but not today. There are a few significant differences I’ve found. I list them here, not necessarily because I’m declaring a major turning point in my life, but because maybe they’ll help other people, too.
1) I wasn’t afraid of becoming obsessed. I haven’t been able to do this nowadays, and it probably only continues to get harder the older you get, but I remember hearing characters voices in my head and thinking about them and what makes them do what they do to an almost obsessive degree. Conversations would play out in my head by themselves. I’d speak the conversations as I typed them. I think if I were to let myself get to that point again, I’d be embarrassed, mostly around Katy. I’m afraid of her thinking I’m weird. But I think by resisting this natural tendency I do other weirder things and that’s thrown my life off balance. Maybe?
2) I wasn’t concerned with developing a “voice” of my own. Fuck it, I blatantly copied the style of my favorite author. Today, ever since I read so many “how-to” articles about the importance of developing a style all your own, I throw away anything I attempt to write that sounds even remotely like anyone else. Yet I know that what matters in writing is actually writing, and I’ll never get to a voice of my own if I don’t use any voice at all.
3) I wasn’t writing for an audience. Back then, I was just getting “on” the internet. Blogs didn’t exist yet. So when I wrote, I didn’t know if anyone would ever really read it. Today, I don’t do that. For example, people have come to like my blogs about Lost. Instead of just writing about Lost like I’d do if no one were reading, I freak out about maintaining whatever it is that people like about the blogs, and try to manufacture that into them. Eventually… there was no more Lost blogs. You’d think I’d notice the correlation before now, but no. The bottom line here is that the internet, while super great, creates the feeling of someone constantly looking over your shoulder so I never get to the point where I’m just writing whatever I feel like writing. I guess this is what they mean by self-censoring.
So my new plan for writing: keep in mind the above, and STOP IT!
