Cataloging the Detritus of my Life
I suppose the idea is to get over the fear of writing. An empty screen is a terrifying thing to face. But, all you can do for it is to fill it up. Don’t have any ideas? Don’t think any of your story arcs or characters are worth committing to zeroes and ones? Too many donts can keep you from doing anything. Keep you from writing, keep you from going out of your house, keep you from ever getting out of bed. It’s okay, you do those things (I hope you do) and you can do this thing too.
Breathe.
Set aside the words in your head that are crushing you. Set aside the words in your head that keep harping that you don’t have anything worth saying. You have stories, you have tales, you have characters, you’re practically overflowing with them. What you don’t have is confidence. You won’t get it just sitting there.
Distracted.
The internet isn’t going to get your work done. I know it’s hard to believe after spending hours on it, how could nothing have been accomplished? You feel so tired, as if work has been done. And you have so much to show for it! Data, information, news, trivia,the fact that echidnas have a four-headed penis, the theory that this universe is just one of many trapped in an intricate ten dimensional multi-universe that all might be nothing more than a simulation on a computer somewhere (the computer may also be a simulation?!) What you don’t have is any writing. You haven’t worked.
So, write.
You just need to write. Slowly, ever so slowly the white on the screen diminishes. Words appear one after the other. After another. You’re going to need sentences to keep them all together. Write more. Soon the sentences piling on top of each other. Keep going. Then, there are paragraphs holding your sentences together. Don’t stop. You’ll soon find yourself needing pages to hold your paragraphs and chapters to hold your pages, a book for all your pages. And, you’re done. Like that. Until, you have to do it again.
Time later for making sense of what you wrote. Time later for editing. Time later for plot, protagonists, antagonists, meaning, moral, movement, conflict, pace, etc., etc…
It all starts with the same blank screen. And, the terror of filling it with something. Breathe. Breathe and write.
For more thoughts on writing:
The Fear of Writing or Holding onto Dreams
The seconds follow
Faster
They get under you, throw you.
Confusion, yours
Is firm.
It lasts long, and longer
And,
Then it’s gone.
Now you have
Nothing.
Unable to decide.
Without reflection,
Without company.
No help gained
By staying.
Cut the straps and
See.
The planet
Punched, blown
Out,
Dispersed.
The atmosphere
Down. Near
Zero
Burned away.
Burned off.
The sky?
Junk.
No people in this one and nothing dying. Just a blasted planet. Was it too close to it’s own sun? Did it’s atmosphere get caught up by a interstellar object travelling across it’s orbit? Did something terrible happen there long ago? Who knows… rock and stone never reveal their secrets.