this is what i call writer's block
Jul. 30th, 2004 09:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wellownedbkupi'm getting back on track with my old stuff. drowning!Ophelia. and i read the stuff i wrote back in april. it wasn't really half as bad as my stuff normally is. pretty angsty and the like, but not half so bad.
i did end up talking about prom. and everything that was running around in my head at the time. most of it was just because i hated being me. well, i still do hate me. i hate everything that i do. because i'm just that crappy.
well, i read the triangle story noxy wrote. it's pretty cool. and i hope she'll get everything all together for publishing. that'll be one of the better books in my library. (i'm a fan of danny and james together. i don't really like casey.)
and one of the biggest thoughts in my head right now is "hey, if she can do it, i can." not that i could. or that i'm that good of a writer. but the thought's pretty.
and, of course, i realize that someone will say "oh morghan. you're a great writer. don't beat yourself up." or something like that. and this isn't some false sense of modesty, either. i really don't like what i write. i know that my endings are too abrupt. there's barely if any plot. all the things i write, that sound original to me... have already been done. including the title.
and, when it comes right down to it... i don't have the motivation. or the skills. i mean, i write when the mood strikes me. and it alternates in mood. sometimes it's poetry. sometimes it's short stories. (i'm trying again for NaNoWriMo... and maybe i'll surpass the twenty thousand mark.) and those moods switch off with the ability to sing on key and the ability to draw. and it all oscillates wildly. i hate me. i hate my writing. i hate the fact that i can't do anything constantly... i hate it.
everything i've ever done isn't half as good as it ought to be. i can't find anything that appeals to me and i can't do anything that doesn't feel like less than me. i get criticized for writing "dark poetry" and i get dirty looks if i write slash or romance novel material. i want to be a good writer. i do. i love writing. but...
see, this is why i haven't written anything new this summer, other than Sin's backstory. do you realize how impossible it is? nothing is right. i can't draw. i can't sing. i sure as hell can't write anything that's worth it.
the poem i wrote? the one about... To My Spiritual Brother, The one who lost his way?
took me 2 months to write it. and i hate it. in my mind, it was supposed to be one way... it isn't that way now.
so this is writer's block. i keep hearing that i'll get out of it... eventually. but, there are days when i wish i was out of it already. i could try praying, invoking a muse... trying something new for inspiration. maybe all my imagination is getting sapped. i can't write for characters, myself, and read, can i? something will lag back. i can't imagine what Nix's life is like, while keeping up with Sin and Alex. i can't write their entries while still keeping up with my life and trying to write a story about someone else.
this is insane.
i've got somebody else's thoughts in my head. i want some of my own.
i did end up talking about prom. and everything that was running around in my head at the time. most of it was just because i hated being me. well, i still do hate me. i hate everything that i do. because i'm just that crappy.
well, i read the triangle story noxy wrote. it's pretty cool. and i hope she'll get everything all together for publishing. that'll be one of the better books in my library. (i'm a fan of danny and james together. i don't really like casey.)
and one of the biggest thoughts in my head right now is "hey, if she can do it, i can." not that i could. or that i'm that good of a writer. but the thought's pretty.
and, of course, i realize that someone will say "oh morghan. you're a great writer. don't beat yourself up." or something like that. and this isn't some false sense of modesty, either. i really don't like what i write. i know that my endings are too abrupt. there's barely if any plot. all the things i write, that sound original to me... have already been done. including the title.
and, when it comes right down to it... i don't have the motivation. or the skills. i mean, i write when the mood strikes me. and it alternates in mood. sometimes it's poetry. sometimes it's short stories. (i'm trying again for NaNoWriMo... and maybe i'll surpass the twenty thousand mark.) and those moods switch off with the ability to sing on key and the ability to draw. and it all oscillates wildly. i hate me. i hate my writing. i hate the fact that i can't do anything constantly... i hate it.
everything i've ever done isn't half as good as it ought to be. i can't find anything that appeals to me and i can't do anything that doesn't feel like less than me. i get criticized for writing "dark poetry" and i get dirty looks if i write slash or romance novel material. i want to be a good writer. i do. i love writing. but...
see, this is why i haven't written anything new this summer, other than Sin's backstory. do you realize how impossible it is? nothing is right. i can't draw. i can't sing. i sure as hell can't write anything that's worth it.
the poem i wrote? the one about... To My Spiritual Brother, The one who lost his way?
took me 2 months to write it. and i hate it. in my mind, it was supposed to be one way... it isn't that way now.
so this is writer's block. i keep hearing that i'll get out of it... eventually. but, there are days when i wish i was out of it already. i could try praying, invoking a muse... trying something new for inspiration. maybe all my imagination is getting sapped. i can't write for characters, myself, and read, can i? something will lag back. i can't imagine what Nix's life is like, while keeping up with Sin and Alex. i can't write their entries while still keeping up with my life and trying to write a story about someone else.
this is insane.
i've got somebody else's thoughts in my head. i want some of my own.
