Over the twenty some years I spent in school I was told that I am a good writer, at least by scholastic measures. I don’t doubt that because people don’t have a reason to lie to me in that regard, however I do have a slight qualm with this analysis because often I don’t think I’m a good writer. I promise that statement isn’t born from a place of self-loathing but more so the fact that I hate writing itself. Much like editing, I find writing to be a cumbersome process and I’m certain other writers feel the same. To be honest, my mind lives in a world of fantasy for about 110% of the day. Anything is possible in that world from flying to absurd martial arts skills to magic to being a world class musician. Sometimes I feel compelled to share that world with other people but unfortunately mind melding does not exist…or maybe that is fortunate. I have zero artistic ability (in the sense of drawing or painting) so that leaves me with words and brings me back to the writing process.
My problem with writing is that within my mind there is a plethora of inspiration but for some reason when pen hits paper (or fingers hit keyboard) they all seem to evaporate. Then I spend the next minute, hour, day, week, month, year playing hide and seek with my own ideas trying to vomit them into the physical realm and eventually…I do. Usually. So great, I’ve written these piece-wise thoughts but I need them to actually make sense. Now my creative and my critical sides are at war trying to translate these nuanced niblets while thinking of another “P” word to connect idea “A” to idea 14 at 1 A.M. with the sun quickly creeping up to remind me that I have to work in the morning.
We call this God awful curse “Writer’s Block” and it has plagued our people since the beginning of time. It has gotten the best of me for the past few months in a particular project that I have been working on for the past few years. Today, I decided to be meta and write about my Writer’s Block. From it was born my first “Flash Fiction” (captioned) and a photo of my battlestation.
The cursor mocks me. Each blink a taunt at my inability to convey my thoughts to this digital canvas that is a word doc. A jab at my sudden illiteracy as I cannot fit the ideas swirling around my head into a simple grammatical structure. “Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.” the cursor says, reminding me of the preshish time going by with every second gnawing away at my soul. Look! I can’t even spell “precious” in my own brain and it expects me to compile a book? It wants me to form a universe and paint it in black letters on this white sheet of infinite stress looking back at me? Laughable, I say and the cursor laughs back “Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.” Fine, brain, let’s write! But don’t you dare blame me when spell check gives us Christmas colored squiggles every other sentence. Let’s write this fictional world where you don’t even know what the people look like and your main characters’ backstories aren’t finished yet. Let’s break this curse or embarrass ourselves trying because unfortunately...no one else can. - KQE
Though my Writer’s Block isn’t gone quite yet, at least I know it’s not here to stay. So keep working on whatever you’re working on and if you’re stuck….work on something else for a little bit. Can’t hurt, can it?
KQE