I find myself feeling a little bad tonight, and much like a forum stalker. You see when I joined the forum way back when, I was coming out of a creative writing course at a community college near by. I was prolific with my posting, and very stingy with sharing my writing.
At the end of said class, my Professor told me he had no doubts that I would be published one day. I've heard that alot over the last few years, but sadly didn't think my writing good enough, or polished enough to share. Since then, I've been working on my craft. But I digress....back to the point.
I rarely ask for help in real life, and am secretive at best about my writing. I'm my own worst critique as most of us are. But since re-emerging on the forum, I've found myself reaching out more to people I used to converse regularly with. People whose opinions I highly valued then.
Which is what makes me feel a little bad. My struggling over the last few years with my writing, and the type of story teller I want to be was done else where, mostly in a real life writing group setting, in an effort to grow. It did help, and has made me get over some of my issues, but I have to remind myself alot lately that some writers here don't get that luxury. That some may not be ok with taking critique or giving it.
But above all else, that some people I knew grew in different ways. Me asking for help is just something I'm going to get over. It's part of the learning curve. It doesn't make me a stalker for messaging someone to ask (no...it wasn't done repeatedly only once ) my subconscious just goes there because I don't want to come across as a pain in the keyboard. But regardless, it's ok.
I'd like to take a breath, and thank everyone who reads my craziness. Not just my shorts, or novel excerpts that I post here, but also this blog.
Writing is a lonely endeavor under the best of circumstances. I've found especially in the beginning, or when you as a writer are most apt to second guess the things your putting out into the world. Sometimes we just need a pick me up, or to know that we're not the only ones out there struggling to get the ideas in our head, out onto a screen or paper.
To that end, sometimes when I need that pick me up I cruise the forum, looking at the amount of views something I've posted has gotten. Does that mean that someone thought it was good, or read it all the way through? No, but it means that something about what ever it was I posted caught someones eye. Sometimes, that's enough.
So thank you for clicking, even if you didn't stick the rant, or piece through to the end. Thank YOU for clicking, and maybe just maybe giving me the pick me up I needed to grow a little bit more with my writing today.
Feel free to comment, on anything you like, or don't. After all, that's just part of the process. I'll do the same, because if we're not growing or evolving as writers, then what are we doing here?
The last two weeks have been jam packed with craziness for me. More so than usual. Finally this morning I had a moment to take a breath. It was in that breath I had an oh crap moment. It's October 7th, which means Nanowrimo is upon us.
In August I promised myself I would have all my little fuzzy yellow duckies in a row, and be ready for Nano. I am not.
Not only am I not ready, but I've realized my Mc is not ready. And of course all these realizations come at a week long work conference where I'm supposed to be soaking up valuable info to take back home with me.
My attention is divided, my characters are screaming at me.... What is a writer to do?
I recently read a character development exercise where you get to know your character through two different approaches. The first being their dreams. This can unlock various items that can be repeated through your wip to establish symbolism, among other things. The second, being to imagine your character getting dressed, or going through their full morning routine. This will unlock habits, and give a deeper sense of your character. So I've decided to try both, but up first will be the dream. To begin the exercise you're instructed to start with a sentence such as, He/she is dreaming... or ______ is dreaming about.... (So basically you begin by closing your eyes, clearing your mind by focusing on your breathing then imagine what your character might dream about, and don't worry about punctuation or grammar.)
Syn Acker, is dreaming about floating lightly as a feather over her hospital bed. She's no longer wearing the horrible open backed hospital gowns, but instead a flowing white shift. She can't feel her body. She can't feel anything, but she is now able to move, to look around her hospital room. There is a picture on the wall of rolling grass fading back into a canyon, and blue sky everywhere. She feels herself fall into that endless blue sky of the painting. Somewhere far away from her she is becomes aware of voices. The same voices she heard inside her hospital room so many times, but could never see. She turns to look for the faces that go with the voices. She sees her mother in her black funeral clothes, hunched in on herself crying, sitting on a puffy white cloud beside a dark haired man. She can't tell who the man is, but she hear's them. Behind them on the cloud simply looming there is a tall figure, that seems masculine despite the long hook beaked mask it wears, the figure makes her skin crawl. The masked figure doesn't speak or move. Syn's mother feels guilty, because they left Syn behind in such a terrible place. They left her helpless and alone. The man sighs, seemingly exhausted. He sounds so reasonable as he leans over assuring her mother that neither one of them signed up for this kind of life. That Syn would want them to live, and find comfort. Something is wrong about his face, it contorts sneering as he speaks. He leans in and takes a bite out of Syn's mother's neck, and she doesn't seem to notice. She cuddles in closer to the man, almost relieved to have a shoulder to cry on. This sicken's Syn. Syn tries to scream, to go to her mother, to help her, but she can't. They can't seem to see or hear her. Her heart beat jumps in her ears as she tries to float closer to her mother's cloud. But she's helpless and can do nothing as the man (who Syn realizes is her fiance Tate) pushes her already dying mother from the cloud and licks his fingers clean. Syn screams a ragged wail in her dream, which throws her body into a fit waking her in her hospital bed.
So in reading back over this, I've learned a few things. First, my mc never really trusts her fiance. Which is a pretty big deal in and of itself. Secondly, she's afraid of being or feeling helpless. Thirdly, she feels something or someone looming over her at a distance, and it makes her uncomfortable, it could be death or a few other possibilities. I believe I will try the "dressing room" exercise and then come back to do another dream for this character to delve deeper.
Lately, I'm finding it increasingly difficult playing at being an adult. I don't mean doing the adulty things, like paying bills, but rather in making myself do the sensible thing. You see I've always done the sensible thing. That's been my go to pathway even when I wasn't sure what my path should be. There is nothing wrong with doing the sensible thing either. But lately, I'm finding it's just not enough.
I've had a sensible job for the last nine years as a veterinary technician. It's not over confidence (I'm the least self confident person on the planet..) when I say that I'm very good at my job. Or when I say that I run the clinic where I work. If I leave the clinic will close. But lately, though I love my job, I'm not in love with it. It's becoming more and more difficult to do my job, and I find myself wondering how much longer I will be able to.
Part of this is the stress of the job. It's highly stressful helping people, and their pets, when sometimes those people really are the problem. It's hard to care more than a pets owner does. It's hard to watch pets you've helped from the time they were puppies stumble in with arthritis, and know that today maybe the day their owner decides not to pursue treatment options. Plus all the normal stress like dealing with co-workers who really are just here for a pay check.
These issues aren't the only reasons I'm finding it harder lately. Not only do I not want to do the sensible thing, but I also find myself pushing myself to want something more. Something I would have never thought I could, or would ever consider doing. Wanting that badly enough, to push myself harder, to finish side projects regardless of what it takes. Fantasizing about what your life would be like if you'd just finish your projects isn't the same thing as sitting down and doing something.
None of this is good or bad, it's just something different. Maybe different is what I really need so desperately right now.
I don't have delusions of grandeur. I have a goal, and I'm working toward that. There is a huge difference between doing the sensible thing, and having enough sense to push yourself to finish your goals.
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