I am just starting out with writing, I’ve thought about it and
sort of played with it but it never went anywhere. So here I am, trying again,
and it's such a long road when you're sitting at your computer all
alone.
Yesterday I had a
bad day. Nothing was going anywhere. I’d written some stuff but it wasn’t real writing, it wasn't a scene
or a plot. It was just nonsense, fragments and snapshots that
are supposed to be helpful in making your writing better but don't look
like much by themselves. I was depressed and frustrated. So I went looking for
help. I searched the web trying to find someone who felt like me. No luck.
There just wasn’t anyone else out there who was saying anything like what I was
feeling. So here it is; a blog that will, hopefully, be admitting the simple
fact that I’m a beginner and I’m scared.
My story ideas
either have no plot or have no character. I have fragments and ideas and years
worth of note books without any clear outlines or drafts. That’s right not a
single completed story to my name. So I keep thinking what’s the point? If I
can’t even come up with a beginning, middle, and an end then how can I even
think of calling myself a writer? Oh but I want it. I need it. The words
scribbled across the page or tapped out double time on the key board, a
disconnected conversation growing until you can almost see the story behind it, a single line
standing out on the page, the absolutely silly delight in something that wasn’t
there five minutes ago; oh how I love it! If there is a job I could do for the
rest of my life this is it.
I know that
the number one cause of writer’s block is fear. And I freely admit that I’m
scared. They say that courage is fear that’s said its prayers. So here I am,
saying a prayer and; jumping off the plane without my back up shoot, diving in
the deep end, and going to a party without a banana. God Bless
Rita
