I have a rant to get off my chest, of the it’s-my-blog-and-I’ll-cry-if-I-want-to variety. Because it is, after all, my blog. And if I want to stray off-topic, I will.
Anyway.
I’m writing again, something other than my blog. I stopped for about a month, having needed to rest my brain cells (and regrow a few that I’d lost) after NaNoWriMo. (If you don’t know what that is, you can search my posts from November and find out.) It’s good, planning and creating. Usually.
I try not to get too irritated at all the self-righteous advice from other writers. I know they all mean well. But seriously, the only good advice I’ve ever gotten is that I should read a lot and write a lot. Who knows whether I’ll ever publish anything. At this stage, I don’t know if I care. That might not be my goal. And even if it is, I have time to figure out all the details. I have friends who have published, and they’re more than willing to offer advice (of the real, useful variety). So right now, I’m just writing and hashing it out and doing what I enjoy.
That said, “enjoy” can be a relative term. At the moment, I am stuck on one scene. I can see it, I know what’s happening. But for some reason, I can’t make the words come out right. I can’t capture the something-or-other that seems to be eluding me. I’m not sure if it’s that what I’m writing is a stretch, outside of the things I usually put down, or if it’s my own occasional lack of confidence. I’ve returned to it three times, all without much success. I wonder if I’m putting too much pressure on myself to make it “perfect.”
Part of the problem is that when I create “people,” they (at least temporarily) exist. I often feel more judgment from my characters than from real humans. I suppose that’s because they live in my own mind, and I’m absolutely my own worst critic. I have this need to make sure I don’t mess things up for my fictional family, to keep them from harm.
So I’m going to lay this one scene aside for now, figuring that I will eventually be struck with inspiration. After all, unlike living beings, these characters won’t age until I tell them to do so.
Pray for me. I think I’m losing it.
