I know a lot of writers go through is this see-saw of emotions. For those first few days at the start of a story it feels like magic. The ideas are flowing, the words just fit. Everything is good.
But time brings with it disappointment. Somewhere in the darkness of my brain a little switch gets triggered, and suddenly every word is inadequate, every idea substandard. Nothing works, nothing flows. And I begin to hate my writing.
And just lately, I’m finding it harder to fall back in love with it again. I don’t know whether it’s greater knowledge of the art, or of language, or whether it’s just realism kicking in. But now, when I revisit works with that magical distance, it still seems inadequate. I wonder more and more whether I have the ability to do this at all. And I want to break my pen and burn all my papers.
Instead, I live for those too-brief seconds where it still feels good. And I hope that one day, it will always feel good.
Cath lives just outside Cleveland, Ohio (well, somebody has to), she writes, takes photographs, reads and writes obsessively. Oh, and she speaks with a funny accent.
I learned the hard way that learning more about writing and being published has occasionally been more a hindrance than a help. In fact, recent developments (chocolate, anyone?) have me reconsidering my desire TO publish, and thinking hard about returning to the heydays of e-pubbing again.
Back then, writing was Pure Joy. Seriously. I’d get giddy with every new story idea, nervous about Will They or Won’t They like it – work with reckless abandon to get the story down, make it fun and interesting, delight in each new plot twist and turn and character I was developing.
Just thinking about the next scene would give me goosebumps!
Knowing I was in full and completely control of every word I typed, every direction I took, was pure magic.
Then, when all was said and typed, and gone over with a fine-toothed comb for proper grammar and good logisitical sense, I’d post it on the web and wait.
Wait with nerves twitching, and a little butterfly sensation in my gut.
Then one day, another would pass – and they would come. Emails from people I didn’t know. Readers I had never and will never met, people from all around the world telling me what they thought. How much they loved the new story, how excited they were to know I was still willing to entertain them with quality, free writing.
Damn fine feeling, that.
Damn Fine.
Oh look, full and completely control of every word I typed.
Sheesh.
LOL. Well you made me smile.