Tag Archives: writer’s block

So, let’s talk about writing despair…


The other day, a good friend asked me, when I was babbling on, yet again, about my challenges with writing, “Who are you are you doing this for?”

His implication was that I surely couldn’t be doing it for myself, given the amount of struggles I was having with it and the (sigh) ultimate nothing to show for it. I told him it was for myself, which it is, but I also want validation. I am too professionally oriented to write purely for self-discovery. I want someone to say, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant.” or something. Or maybe have someone write to me and tell me my writing had touched them in some way, clarified some point of reality, made them laugh, made them cry – made them react.

You see, I’ve had a taste of that – some of my writings are published and I love love love being paid for the stuff that I can conjure up out of my head. There’s something wonderful about being paid for your creative mind’s twists and turns. Not that nursing didn’t give me that. Well, okay, it didn’t, until I got into public health nursing, a lot of which is pure marketing.

And I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I didn’t write. How would I see the world? How would I taste it, feel it, feel about it, if I didn’t have the chance to put it in words?

And, finally, I want my kids to be proud of me. It’s a turnaround from the old wanting to be good for mum. I really really don’t want my kids to think of me as boring or unmotivated or unimportant, even as MS takes away things from me. I want them to think of me as always trying, always working on bettering myself. Or something.

So then the question arises, why is it so difficult for me at the moment? Why can’t I grab my imaginary world and wrestle scenes out of it to my command?

I sense part of it is the absence of quiet, of solitude, of just breathing for a few days in a row. There’s too much noise in my life at present. But I also feel empty, and in need of refilling my creative well. It’s a challenge to do both.

Any ideas about how to get refilled and restarted again?

For me, I think I shall throw myself into non-fiction for a bit. It uses my creative but practical mind, which seems to be still operative. Maybe it will give my fiction editor a chance to go back to sleep again. Grrr.

unformed


I’ve been feeling for the longest time now that I am on the edge of a story.  For a while there I was having terribly lucid dreams, waking with my jaws clenched or in the middle of a scream – now that isn’t happening, but I feel like there are words in the dark corners of my mind – a long tail, as it were, and I just have to find it and pull and the story will spin out like the yarn from a ball.
But I can’t find the end. Every once and awhile I think I see it, my fingers reach out, and then I find it’s a dust bunny or a spider leg or something that no doubt needs to be tidied up but probably won’t lead to anything more than perhaps a blog entry.
It’s frustrating.
Part of it is being in this new place and feeling hesitant to go and explore because of lonely dog and because I am, frankly, quite broke after the move and the unexpected taxes and such. I go out a-wandering here and there but somehow my days are getting away from me and they pass in a blur. Endlessly walking the dog helps – he’s on a special diet for his bladder stones that makes him have to go pee, so he pees and pees and pees. And it’s been rainy and grey and uninspiring to mosey around in – plus my legs haven’t been working all that well. Whine whine whine.
So I scothrop about for the tail of the story and hope to find it while I knit like crazy and fuss about. (http://gustepa.livejournal.com/18896.html)
And get nowhere fast.
So I’ve set myself a goal, another contest to enter, and now I know I must put fingers to paper or keyboard quickly. Because I’ll need to write and rewrite my entry so it will be good. Now, where is that yarn tail…?