Announcements: After rambling, I seek Elvis.
I'm working on a fic. Honest to God I am. I am just trying to get over a wall made with bricks which read, "Am I doing this right?", "What if I mess up?", "I don't know what I'm doing!", "This doesn't make any sense, I should rewrite it", "I need to finish this but-", and the list goes on and on about the same thing. It's the "I am afraid for the darling first baby I'll release into the world" anxiety and most certainly the perfectionist disease.
Honestly, I don't know why I bother. After all, I have...three pieces of work written, two of which has received some praise. More hit than miss if I think about it rationally. The other was just passed over because of its contents probably. I've written things in the past that haven't necessarily been flat out rejected (mainly because I showed them to friends, maybe their words were a bit polite), so perhaps I can count out the possibility that my writing sensibilities are horrendous... Perhaps I stress because this fic I write isn't for me really but for someone else.
The request is from the usxuk community and I'm almost out of time. That isn't too much of a concern since plenty have said to themselves that the quality of the work meant more than making the deadline that in the end won't effect them as much. I wholly agree with them. It's really the quality that I worry about. I worry with the feelings of every brick I mentioned above and a ton more.
I don't think I have really realized what it is a writer does and how they go about things, even if they are writing fanfiction there's no reason not to take it just the same. Right? Certain writing subjects have never been my thing. Research papers can go untouched for a very long time. Classes have been failed over lack, or excess, of research and the inability to make sense of it and use it properly. When I do slow down to attempt the task, all I feel is that I am wasting time and not getting anywhere. Describing it all takes two words, really: falling short. I feel like I'm falling, no control, without any sort of foothold or foundation. I am short of what I want, what I need, and my frustration is even just short of a ragefit at times. I love writing.
I love reading the writings of others, I love coming up with things to write, I love trying new ways to write things as I've read it from my peers. But it's hard to love when Writing don't love me back. I easily lose my drive when in the face of details I don't know. Easy is the key word here and if it isn't easy then it's too much trouble. I don't know how many times that's brought me so much trouble in life, love, and writing. All I know is that it has also saved me many times, too. So do I reject this and assume the nothing should be taken so lightly and plow through my hardship?
I'm rambling but Mom says that I have an all or nothing thinking. I frown at her since I've always thought of myself as a "gray area" sort of person and that balance, harmony, and compromise are important, essential even. However, whenever I am frustrated and all my answers have been taken from me or I didn't have any in the first place, anyone would feel trapped. For me, I slip into that all-or-nothing and suddenly you have to choose: "Well, you didn't like my ideas so, either you do it this way or you can just go f-" This is just a verbal version of my trapped mental ragefit I mentioned. I don't think you'd like to see the physical version; it can get pretty pathetic.
Some of these answers are so easy to fix. Some take a little work. Perhaps too many things have come easy to me and when they don't, do they seem like the most difficult things to overcome? Only in my life I guess because I know there is far worse that plenty have gone through. I know this and yet my problem seems tremendously huge. It's a big deal to me. Those who see big obstacles they can't handle, know they can't handle them and have garnered no support, run.
Me, I run to art. I draw as a alternating hobby and I love it to death. I love to doodle and send them to my friend like a letter. I love to make stories with my art and just make beautiful things to my eyes. Again, though, if it's for someone else I stress. Especially if it's a big project or I something I don't fully grasp. I freeze and leave it for dead. It sits and waits for me and I give it few glances. Hell, if it weren't for scheduled times of the day where I was in a room to focus only on that art piece, no other activities present, I wouldn't have anything to show for myself. Some art I've done has been guilt driven but not much of that went far. Art and writing go hand-in-hand as an escape for each other and that's just what I do in cycles of unsuccessfulness: escape.
I'm not unsuccessful; I have things that people like and they have told me so. I might have a few choice words about the same work, but doesn't everybody at some time? There are times when I couldn't agree more, I'll admit that, but they are so few. I don't know what to say. It all comes down to self-satisfaction in that case.
I'm reminded of an article I pointed out in this very journal that talked about getting over shit and overall just being satisfied on some level with any work in general you produce. Just work with it, get it out there, hear what others have to say, and take it. In the words of my Band teacher, "Just 'be'." In the words of a song, "No stress, no stress, no stress~ Girl, you deserve nothing but the best~".
Hell, in the words of Elvis Presley, The King, who does in fact deserve his own paragraph and blockquote:
"All less conversation, a little more action, please~ All this aggravation ain't satisfaction in me~ A little more bite, a little less bark, a little less fight, a little more spark~ Close your mouth and open up your heart~ Baby, satisfy me!"
Dude, that should be my theme song on repeat times forever. If I was really honest with myself, who would turn down a command like that from The King? Especially the "Come on, Come on~ Don't procrastinate! Don't articulate! Girl, it's getting late~ and you just sit and wait around!" Seriously, this is like my theme song. (Gawd, I need a life. [At the risk of TMI you have been forewarned], particularly with a person in my life and much sex involved. It only seems like a long time but I'm dying from the inside out. No dirtiness intended.)
I feel better now. I caught on to at least two or three subjects I could use in the psychology of a fic and know what I'll be listening to whenever I feel like I need something to keep me going. Thank you Elvis, not only are you a heart-throb but you make my writing go round. I wish I could've ended this crazy thought process with something super ridiculous so in my summary I could write it all vague and people would stare at that and say "WTF?? ....okay, now I've got to at least scan this. It's too good to pass up." lol
I need some sleep.
{TUNE IN NEXT TIME WHEN: HADA SAYS SOMETHING WORTHWHILE! [le gasp]
PREVIEW: "So I've written a fic and I hope you all like it! I'm adding an unhealthy amount of hope to my diet since it involve a current conflict happening now and I am aware how easily this can turn its head it an ugly direction. I've put you in suspense for too long so here it is, my US/UK/US fic about-"
TO BE CONTINUED~~~~~ /end cheesy 20's announcer voice.}
Hugs to anyone who knows me, I'll have the link to my fic in my new community soon! I must satisfy Elvis and will NOT let him down!