Of Writer’s Hesitation

Typewriter

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I want to write. I long to sit at my 1940’s desk with a quill in my hand and compose beautiful words. Sadly, I’m not writing. I haven’t written a complete story since I graduated a couple of months ago. It’s not that I don’t have ideas fluttering around my head, it’s just that I’m not writing. It’s a shame – I’m a pretty good storyteller.

So why am I not writing?

I can’t say that it’s because of writers block, as I already confessed to having ideas. It’s not that I don’t have enough time, I work a crappy part-time job and get maybe 20 hours a week – I have more than enough time.

When I picture myself writing everything is very romanticized. Sitting at my desk for hours every morning with a cup of coffee steaming beside me. But whenever I am about to start writing that’s when I freeze up.

I think that part of me is afraid of the process. Delving deeper into my subconscious may reveal things about myself that I’m not willing to confront or perhaps don’t want shared with the world. I’ve always said that fiction tells readers more about the author than non-fiction. Non-fiction is easy, it’s a glimpse into the author’s life, and they get to control how everyone is portrayed and what you witness. Fiction is the subconscious, what they are really thinking, and how they process the world around them – their soul masked by layers of characters and scenery.

So yeah, maybe I’m fearful. And for the first time in my writing career I’m completely on my own, no teacher to hand out assignments, or internship set a deadline. The only thing to motivate my fingers to tap away at the keyboard is me. Me. Me. Me. And I gotta say, I suck at self motivation. Give me a deadline and I’ll get the work done, and damn it the paper will be good. But when left to my own devices I shy away from the real writing and hide in work that is less deep, less personal, and less substantial.

I need to write.

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Of Lazy Writers

Once Upon a Time

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I’m too lazy for fiction.

Fiction requires thinking outside yourself. Or taking part of yourself: beliefs, issues, passions, opinions and magnifying that in a realm of people who are … well … not you.

I love writing.

I love reading.

But I hate starting.

Thus, I’m too lazy for fiction.

In the realm of non-fiction I essentially write about me, and I’ll be honest I enjoy talking about myself. And if you’re a creative writer and claim to not – I dub thee a liar. I take an experience that I think others will find entertaining or will touch their soul. I make that accessible and enjoyable through creative prose and metaphor. Sarcastic tone and action. Sincere emotion and simplicity.

Non-fiction is easy. And is typically what I write in my spare time. I can start my assignments two or three hours before they are due and no one would ever guess. No one ever does, nine times out of ten I get rave remarks and have my grammar corrected. Grammar that I didn’t have time to go through and thoroughly revise. Comma happy nazis have issues my work, I am not a comma heavy writer. They, can, get, over, it, let, it, go.

But fiction. Oye!

I’m excited but nervous for my fiction workshops. In this genre I don’t generally view myself as exceptionally talented. I struggle with plot and content. I fidget with characters. I fail at using proper dialogue tags. I spend hours on a few moments only to decide in the rewrite that I don’t actually want to keep that segment. It’s a love hate relationship. But when I do accomplish something that I like and other people respond positively to, I am overjoyed. The personal satisfaction I get from doing something great outside of my comfort zone is a superior feeling to staying where it is easy.

Even so, I’m too lazy for fiction.