Writer's block; commentary (nanowrimo practice)
When I was younger I wanted to write stories … well I thought I wanted to write stories, but I would inevitably stop and write something that looked nice. And then I’d add another few lines and a rhyme would appear. From this I learned that the forms of poetry are rarely ever difficult for me; rather the emotional intensity and the sharing of one’s take on the past seem to be the basis for my inability to break my own fourth wall … the one that would allow me to actually grow literarily.
Then I wanted to write stories again. And I realized that my first hurdle was something I imagine most authors find easy: getting started. Where does one start? Am I wrong about it being easy for others? Do I plan out half the details of a book and hope the rest occurs of its own volition? Do I pick a single person, imagine a whole past and a whole life for him or give her a small but highly detail background, and let her speak her own mind and soul onto the page? Do I pick a small group of vaguely defined people and let their personalities both define what occurs and change over time? I picked a few, failed, and then lay the gauntlet down for a long time.
Then I wanted to write stories again. And I began simply to select a point of view, and usually one person. I took the lead from Clive Barker’s Imagica that all stories start with one person and used that as an excuse to ignore the rest of my complaints: and I began. My initial ventures were not very well written. Rife with poor dialogue, two dimensional characters, brevity of plot, and generally little believability, the only reason I felt the need to write them spawned from a need to express myself and to ‘hang the critics’. But I also realized that true talent is usually developed like a diamond from charcoal: many layers must be removed. And to misquote L. Ron Hubbard: skill comes from practice. This is something that is obvious to any master and oblivious to any novice. I see myself as in between, though far closer to novice, so I take the idea that regular work in one specific medium will increase my long term output’s quality; but I’ve seen it happen so it is likely true.
Now I want to write stories. And I keep using the excuse that I’m short on ideas. But I think what’s really true is two fold: First I’m scared. I’m scared I’ll begin a story and not have any ideas … or the ideas I will have will not relate to what I’m actually writing, and the result will be yet another incomplete manuscript. Second, I’m scared that I will never learn to write well. And yet I write anyway. Because I don’t think writing is something you do because you like doing it. Unless you’re well paid and have already mastered the craft, I feel writing (in whatever form it occurs) is more a reflection of a need to express oneself. And mine happens to be in words.
And I’ll write stories I’ll want to read: which will inevitably mean they will be weird, possibly lacking in certain key necessities, and will probably be badly written to start off with. I expect to suffer, whine, grow, complain, and grow more. And I expect to be insulted for wasting people’s time. The way I figure it: Even DaVinci had detractors.