The Fanfiction Writer's Guide to Procrastination
Just something that popped in my head while I was cleaning. Maybe I shouldn’t be allowed to write when I’m sick? Warning: This is so not politically correct so if you are easily offended I suggest you turn back now. Go! Run! Head for the hills!
Well, it’s your choice if you choose to stay. I didn't say it was good. It's just me poking fun at my own efforts to write.
The Fanfiction Writer’s Guide to Procrastination So, you think you’re a writer?
After all, you’ve been perusing the internet reading all sorts of fanfiction. And you’ve got a few ideas yourself. Some of them might even be good. Hell, surely you can do better than some of these other so called writers? How they are able to write so poorly and garner so many reviews is beyond your comprehension. But that’s okay, because you’ve come well prepared. You have an extensive vocabulary. You play Scrabble, and everyone knows that Scrabble is awesome. It’s even better when there’s alcohol involve, but now you’re getting distracted. You’re an avid reader. You read things such as National Geographic, The Count of Monte Cristo, and Harry Potter. So you know that you’ve got it. And who knows? Maybe this will lead to a contract with a major publishing company? After all, one has to practice somewhere. Right?
Now, after some intense ego stroking you boot up your computer, open up your word processor, and pause. What exactly do you write? You stare the blank screen. To your distress the blinking curser appears to be mocking you. As panic builds you find yourself question whether or not you can actually go through with this. But no, you said you could do this. You built yourself up to this moment. Now write!
And so you sit there and you type. You type until finally it formulates into something that resembles a story. You know it’s not the best thing ever written. But hey, it’s your first effort! And you didn’t realize that this writing thing was a lot harder than it looks! The next one will be much better.
So you post it and wait for a response. And wait. And keep waiting. After about a week you get a response. Maybe you even get two. Sure, they’re most likely the equivalent of a pity fuck, but you’ll take what you can get. After all, this is just practice.
But now you’re stuck. You wonder what to write next. And while you are pondering this situation you might watch some TV. Or maybe go see that movie that you’ve wanted to see? Or maybe you’ll just read some more fanfiction, some of which is good (Seriously, why don’t some of these people have publishing contracts?) and some of which is pure crap? And you wait for an idea to strike you.
And then it hits. Maybe it just comes at random like when you’re taking a shower or vacuuming the carpet? Or maybe you had been writing a story and had a flash, like a light bulb turning on, that caused you to delete everything that you had written and start all over? Either way, you find yourself typing like a crazy person as you try to get it all out. So focused are you on your writing that you forget to eat, forget to turn on the lights when it gets dark, refuse to answer the phone when it rings, and neglect to let the dog out. That is until said dog finally let’s you know just how he feels about being forgotten. At which point you must stop your writing. Cursing like a sailor you clean up the mess and go about doing the things that need to be done, the entire time wishing that you were writing.
After taking to time to write (Be it hours, days, or even weeks) your masterpiece is finally done! So after reviewing and editing it at least ten times you post it. And wait again for a response.
This story is much better than the previous one and therefore gets more reviews. You are ecstatic! You’re practically floating on cloud nine! When each and every comment comes in you want to find the person who sent it, give them a big hug, and thank them a million times for not only taking the time to review your pathetic excuse for writing but actually saying that they like it.
Fueled by this high you decide to write again. But this time fate intervenes. Maybe you got sick? Maybe you had to study for your final? Or maybe you don’t go to college and was just busy with work? Or maybe, just maybe, your mother’s brother’s girlfriend’s friend got into a car accident and that somehow directly involves you? But the fact is that something happens that takes you away from your precious writing.
After things calm down you are finally able to resume your pièce de résistance, but upon reviewing it you find it to be an utter disappointment. Who would want to read this piece of crap? Why should you even continue?
And so you put it off. You don’t delete it since it would be a shame to lose all of that hard work, but you don’t see how you can continue. Who were you to think that you can compare with the fabulous works of others? So you walk the dog. Or maybe you go for a hike? Or maybe you don’t have any hiking trails, so you go to the beach? Or maybe you’re living in the city, so you go to the park and watch all the homeless people beg? Or maybe you live in the country where there's nothing better to do than cow tipping? Anything that does not include writing.
But you are a writer. And eventually you remember why you are a writer as the stories build up in your head and you feel the need to get it all out. So maybe you go home, turn on your laptop, and open up your word processor? Or maybe you run to the store and buy a notebook and a pen? And then you sit there and you think as the blank page once again mocks you, daring you to come up with something worth tarnishing its blank purity.
And then you write.
Well, it’s your choice if you choose to stay. I didn't say it was good. It's just me poking fun at my own efforts to write.
The Fanfiction Writer’s Guide to Procrastination So, you think you’re a writer?
After all, you’ve been perusing the internet reading all sorts of fanfiction. And you’ve got a few ideas yourself. Some of them might even be good. Hell, surely you can do better than some of these other so called writers? How they are able to write so poorly and garner so many reviews is beyond your comprehension. But that’s okay, because you’ve come well prepared. You have an extensive vocabulary. You play Scrabble, and everyone knows that Scrabble is awesome. It’s even better when there’s alcohol involve, but now you’re getting distracted. You’re an avid reader. You read things such as National Geographic, The Count of Monte Cristo, and Harry Potter. So you know that you’ve got it. And who knows? Maybe this will lead to a contract with a major publishing company? After all, one has to practice somewhere. Right?
Now, after some intense ego stroking you boot up your computer, open up your word processor, and pause. What exactly do you write? You stare the blank screen. To your distress the blinking curser appears to be mocking you. As panic builds you find yourself question whether or not you can actually go through with this. But no, you said you could do this. You built yourself up to this moment. Now write!
And so you sit there and you type. You type until finally it formulates into something that resembles a story. You know it’s not the best thing ever written. But hey, it’s your first effort! And you didn’t realize that this writing thing was a lot harder than it looks! The next one will be much better.
So you post it and wait for a response. And wait. And keep waiting. After about a week you get a response. Maybe you even get two. Sure, they’re most likely the equivalent of a pity fuck, but you’ll take what you can get. After all, this is just practice.
But now you’re stuck. You wonder what to write next. And while you are pondering this situation you might watch some TV. Or maybe go see that movie that you’ve wanted to see? Or maybe you’ll just read some more fanfiction, some of which is good (Seriously, why don’t some of these people have publishing contracts?) and some of which is pure crap? And you wait for an idea to strike you.
And then it hits. Maybe it just comes at random like when you’re taking a shower or vacuuming the carpet? Or maybe you had been writing a story and had a flash, like a light bulb turning on, that caused you to delete everything that you had written and start all over? Either way, you find yourself typing like a crazy person as you try to get it all out. So focused are you on your writing that you forget to eat, forget to turn on the lights when it gets dark, refuse to answer the phone when it rings, and neglect to let the dog out. That is until said dog finally let’s you know just how he feels about being forgotten. At which point you must stop your writing. Cursing like a sailor you clean up the mess and go about doing the things that need to be done, the entire time wishing that you were writing.
After taking to time to write (Be it hours, days, or even weeks) your masterpiece is finally done! So after reviewing and editing it at least ten times you post it. And wait again for a response.
This story is much better than the previous one and therefore gets more reviews. You are ecstatic! You’re practically floating on cloud nine! When each and every comment comes in you want to find the person who sent it, give them a big hug, and thank them a million times for not only taking the time to review your pathetic excuse for writing but actually saying that they like it.
Fueled by this high you decide to write again. But this time fate intervenes. Maybe you got sick? Maybe you had to study for your final? Or maybe you don’t go to college and was just busy with work? Or maybe, just maybe, your mother’s brother’s girlfriend’s friend got into a car accident and that somehow directly involves you? But the fact is that something happens that takes you away from your precious writing.
After things calm down you are finally able to resume your pièce de résistance, but upon reviewing it you find it to be an utter disappointment. Who would want to read this piece of crap? Why should you even continue?
And so you put it off. You don’t delete it since it would be a shame to lose all of that hard work, but you don’t see how you can continue. Who were you to think that you can compare with the fabulous works of others? So you walk the dog. Or maybe you go for a hike? Or maybe you don’t have any hiking trails, so you go to the beach? Or maybe you’re living in the city, so you go to the park and watch all the homeless people beg? Or maybe you live in the country where there's nothing better to do than cow tipping? Anything that does not include writing.
But you are a writer. And eventually you remember why you are a writer as the stories build up in your head and you feel the need to get it all out. So maybe you go home, turn on your laptop, and open up your word processor? Or maybe you run to the store and buy a notebook and a pen? And then you sit there and you think as the blank page once again mocks you, daring you to come up with something worth tarnishing its blank purity.
And then you write.