Over the past few days (read: immeasurable span of time) I have been conducting a trying and persistent conversation (read: exhaustively fruitless argument) with myself. It generally plays out something like this:
- I want to write a book.
- So write a book.
(Pause; sigh.)
- I don't have anything to write about.
- Oh, come on.
- No, seriously. No ideas. Zilch.
- What about-
- I knew you'd bring that up. You know I have no idea where to go with that one.
(Sigh.)
- So write an outline.
- But I don't know what should happen. I even introduced that girl who was "familiar," without knowing who on earth she was! Talk about your stupid rookie mistakes.
- But-
- Look, I told you. I have no ideas.
(Pause; sigh.)
- Write about what you know- and don't tell me you don't know anything! You know about your community, about divorce, about... ahh...
- But I don't want to write a commentary! Every time you write about a community from the inside, it's automatically a commentary on them. You end up judging them and fostering misconceptions... and you can't write how everything is perfect because it's not true and anyway, that wouldn't be much of a book. Speaking of which, it's not like I'm ever going to get published anyway.
- Don't say that...
- It's true! Do you know how many writers there are out there, who not only have ideas, but write outlines and do rewrites and work for years on one manuscript?? I can't... I can't do that kind of thing.
- Because you're lazy.
- Yes! I am. I've never claimed not to be. Even for things I love, I'm lazy. And it takes me like a week to get one computer page... I don't understand how people can write books. I really don't. It's so hard. I just don't have that kind of drive.
- Huhm.
- Oh, you think? And... and and and my writing isn't as good as it used to be.
(Silence.)
- It's, it's clunky now. It won't flow, I can't hit the sentences like I used to. They're so short, and the rhythm is always off...
- You're not a bad writer, you know.
- I know that. Of course I know that. But... but I want to be spectacular. And published. And read.
(Silence.)
- I just don't think I have it. I haven't even been able to keep the blog up. Remember how people used to read it?
- I remember. It was nice.
- It was nice.
(Silence.)
- I... I just don't think I have it anymore.
(Pause.)
- Plus the new Blogger changed my colors back, it's just too bright this way. And everyone has the "Thistleway Rose" whatever it is. I worked so hard getting the colors right last time... I guess that's technology for you.
- Yup.
- Yup. Hey... thanks for letting me talk.
- It's my pleasure. I hope you get published someday, I really do.
- Yeah... so do I.
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6 comments:
M,I believe you'll get published, and I plan on buying a copy of your book. It's true about the commentary, but people are real and I think they like real stories better than the fake ones. Good luck.
Guess what? People still do read your blogs :-). You can do it!
Keep a daily journal. Just write one page per day. Do not write about the weather. Write about the people you know, your feelings, your inner turmoil. Before you know it--you will have the outline of a novel
So do I! Good luck :)
good luck M
O
A lot of us do this dance Michal...your'e not alone. It could happen, if you want it enough.
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