I’m trying to write damn it!

cc_man_writers_block-e1289171387633Write, they say. Write a story, a short story, a scene of a story, anything, as if writing is the easiest thing to do. I can tell you a few things about writing, but it being easy is not one of them. It’s hard to write. On the other hand, anything of essence is hard and it should be, otherwise there wouldn’t be any value to it, it would be cheap, unimportant, trivial. Some of you might argue that writing can also be all these things, that everything is in the context. You are right of course, it is. But that is exactly my point, writing something of value, something that someone somewhere might actually enjoy reading is a hard thing to do.

Writing is a process, it’s a mental exercise, it requires focus and skill and I am stuck with just wishful thinking. I have no talent as a writer, I have never been talented in anything really, as a kid I was always the second best in almost everything, or usually worse, but never the measure of excellence, never no.1, the guy that everyone congratulates in the end for being who they are, the guy who gets a pat on the back and a smile of acknowledgment and admiration. Writing is no different. I am not saying that I should be talented in order to write, but hell, it would sure make things a damn lot easier. See, we’re back where we started. Writing is hard. Somehow I just can’t help but wanting to do it. It’s a dialogue with one’s self, it’s a form of visualizing your thoughts, structuring them and correcting them, with punctuation. A way of letting your imagination roam, free to create beings, environments, whole worlds and universes, to go back in time or forward into the future, of criticizing, of reliving moments in time, a way of writers-blockunderstanding and sharing. But you have to write damn it, otherwise everything just stays in your head, one on top of the other, creating a pile of thoughts and experience and imagination, messy, dark and overcrowded. You have to release the pressure. Think of writing as creative trepanning.

Oh, how I wish I could fill these pages with characters and plot, let my imagination run amok and just explode in a literary orgy, my fingers on fire over the keyboard, each stroke rubbing off the letters on the keys, each sentence straining the machine to follow the flow of words and meaning. Yet, all I can do is write about how I can’t write. Weird, huh? Welcome to my world. Now back to accounting, there’s a good chap!


4 thoughts on “I’m trying to write damn it!

  1. I think that this is one of those situations where someone says ”I’m fat” (which he/she clearly isn’t) and the others say ”No, you have a perfect figure!”. You have written a funny and interesting story filled with imaginative beings, so enough with the ”I’m not talented” statements! You will write when you have something to write. Maybe it’s difficult because it ‘s been a while since you last did. It’ll come. There, there… 🙂

  2. hahaha…I never fish for compliments re! I just wrote it, I liked it and I shared it. Its more of a small piece about my view on writing than my inability to write 🙂 Regardless, as soon as I publish The Tallest, I am starting with the new one!

  3. tillis, you can write mate but i know what you are trying to get across. Things are not rolling. You may get some relief by knowing that Tolkien did not write Lord of the Rings in one year. The guy was a teacher, how f@#$king boring, No wonder he was writing silmarillion for his whole life just to escape from the boring World of people and enter into his own World. He said that after a while the stories where coming to his head from the beyond. That means that he had no control over them, they had an existence of their own. Neither did he know how each perceived scene would fit with the previous and how they would form a story that has a sequence but they somehow did. He did though rewrite the book dozens of times and he was making corrections and alterations until his last days. On the other hand take Bukowski, that guy shows no imagination in his stories. Well you certainly can’t say that he is the modern Tolkien. The guy just drank, had sex, smoked, farted and wrote books based on these activities. That is ingenuity. He wrote about simple every day experiences with humour and poetry. My point is that both of them were in agonizing pain when writing and that is sited both in Bukowski’s books and is inferred by Tolkien’s biographers. The guys were giving artistic births everyday, did you think they were just having fun? Well they did. Sometimes. Other times it is just difficult to write. So my point is that if you’re worried that writing is not easy, you are in the right path. Other times you must have a drive and other times you just have to let go. No golden rule. What matters is the story, that’s the baby.
    the long forgotten army comrade, Vasilis B

    • Thanks for the comforting words Vasili! Using Tolkien and Bukowski as examples to console me means a lot!
      I guess if I wrote half as much as I’ve read about writing, I would have written a whole story by now, but you gotta start somewhere.
      The main problem is that there is no dedication man. Writing means sacrifices and determination and perseverance and thinking and of course writing; a lot of writing, good writing, bad writing, but writing nonetheless.
      But enough whining!
      Back to writing!

      “In a land far far away there used to live cat named Jules………”

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