This is a sort of mission statement.
Writing is so so hard sometimes. But I do it anyway. I can’t help it. I have these ideas in my head and it feels like an injustice to them if I don’t write them. But I can’t just write them. I have to make them as close as possible to the vision in my head. That hasn’t ever happened before. My words on paper are clumsy and far short of my vision. But I need to keep working toward my vision. It means something to me. I think it’s beautiful. I believe in it.
Maybe I want to share my vision with someone? Maybe I just want something concrete?
I don’t know. It feels like something I’m meant to do. Right now, I’m having one of those despair and self loathing moments. I have all these ideas and how am I going to find the time and ability to do justice to them all? But time … really, I have no right to complain. I have plenty of time. Really, the only things I’m doing now are laundry, dishes, exercise, French lessons, and babysitting my pretty independent siblings. I should be writing a lot. I should be improving much faster. I should stop procrastinating, for goodness’ sakes.
I’m currently at a word count of about 15,000 for Grey Wars. Come on now. With all this time I have (and that list I wrote takes less time than it seems), it’s pathetic. I know I can do better.
I guess I’m writing this so I can look back on this post every once in a while and be reminded: “Every second spent refreshing blogs that have already posted the post for the day and reading twitters of people you aren’t particularly interested in could be spent WRITING! You have visions and dreams and stories, remember?”
Sometimes a writer just needs to rant, you know? Ffijfdwuovdhsofudhfdouhvdsjovhdsojvdhsiv. My brain is spaghetti! Fhfibjfjf just k ah what fndksmalaksixvir ffnejvhdwi f. V got to do it ah what! Fhdvdjsvjwriofrwjv
Ugh. I’ve got to write. I WILL write.
This post has been mostly negative so to end with some optimism, let me remind myself Ernest Hemingway wrote an average of some … 500 a day, apparently. And he wrote for … 8 hours?
I know I’m not Hemingway but let’s just ignore that for now, okay?