Write Good! (ironic as ‘Write Good’ is bad English? meh) I’m jumping headfirst into writing a Novel and Short Stories on the side. For me, it’s not so bad to suck at writing. It’s bad to give up on it.
Write Good! Get Good at Writing!
Balancing Spontaneity AND Reality
Why am I good at writing when I’m spontaneous and flighty? Yet, when I have to sit down to outline a story seriously, it turns into cosmic garbage? As I funnel thoughts through the mixology of my brain, I create amazing things, but only 2% seems to be any good. It’s like a beautiful chicken dinner that took hours to make, and when I think, “Yeah! This thing is great!” I realize there are fundamental flaws in the subject matter. And then it explodes. I try to fix it… to only make it worse because in this amateur space I live in, I’m good at making things but not fixing them.
Then “The Gremlins” appear, and they play games and ask riddles like, “When will you know the things you don’t know?” and I respond, “I don’t know!” and then they laugh and say crap like, “Why is it that you can’t magically know the things other people know as much as you’d like to know them!?” So I throw The Gremlins out and become a sad puppy. Trying to empower myself, I decided to do something else, like make a major update on my website and then break everything. Fed up, I decide the day has taken enough of my virginity, and it’s time to go to sleep… I wake up the next day and find my website is still broken, and my stories are still stupid.
Filled with dejection and grumpiness, I clock into work
I have a conversation that leads to something brilliant
Friend: Roy? You seem more grumpy than usual. What’s going on?.
Roy: I installed SSL on my site last night, broke everything, and then rage quit. I didn’t get any quality writing done. And now I wish I called in sick. It’s like I have a hangover but drunk only with disappointment and frustration. I hope your morning is going more swimmingly than mine.
Friend: I am sorry for your emotional hangover. I feel your pain. Also! I’m repainting my bathroom! I am nervous about the paint samples I slapped up. They’re brighter than I expected. I liked it in the natural twilight light, but right now, it is getting full sun through the window right ON that spot, so it might be a Lil too sunny?
Roy: Colors are like cats, they are what they are, and they’re unapologetic on their sunny and rainy days.
Friend: Very! lol.
Roy: The more I write, the lamer I get with statements like that ^.
Friend: But you are right nonetheless, write me a story about why my cat didn’t come home last night. Just a few lines… get your juices flowing. He is home now. It is not a worry.
My mind goes into casual overdrive, and I write GOOD
Something near perfectioned! I didn’t think! I FLOWED
Roy: One day, the sun shined bright, and there were no flashes of lightning or downpours of rain. But TomTom Mutton Head (the tabby of wisdom, grumpy, and doom) was missing again! I looked in the yards, and I looked in rooms; I looked in the clouds, the trees, and the flooms, I found where he was – was not where he is. Then worried like a flounder! And wondered how the world could continue making mincemeat pies, and potatoes, and solid, beautiful things without him near. So I drank water and tonic and worried like mom. Then, casually, he wandered in through the door. He purred a sweet grunt to let me know he was home. Then spun in a circle and took a nap on the lawn.
This came to me so blissfully I worry that I read it somewhere else
Did I regurgitate someone else’s brilliance and decide it was mine?
I have many odd fears… I’ll hear a good idea and assume it sprouted from my genius only to find it wasn’t MINE, and I was a fool to think so (this has happened to me before, but not since High School, and that magical land is distanced from me by many years). If I wanted to author a children’s picture book, I’d go with this!
Friend: Did the hair of the dog help with your hangover?
Roy: As I’m not drunk on wine but disappointment and failure, I’m afraid experiencing more of the fails did not help me.
Sometimes I get stubborn and don’t want to see things for what they are
I blame the Gremlins
Friend: Your story was not a failure, so I don’t know what you are talking about.
Roy: Thank you, and yes, it helped. You helped me a lot.
THE END!
Writing plays mind games in amazing ways, but neither you nor I should give up. Don’t let these moments make you so sick that you never try again. You are a good writer. Please write something with me, have patience with yourself, and make it through this process. Write Something Great!