Here's the thing...
I was writing a whole lot of stuff lately about how I feel as if I should be taking writing more seriously. Other people take it so seriously and I don't, but then, they also seem to be doing a lot more writing than I do. Which I guess is a product of taking it more seriously. Heh.
I just don't feel as if I'm really 'allowed' to take it so seriously. As if there needs to be some threshold you have to cross, or number of publications you need to reach. For me, it seems so self-indulgent to call myself a writer, when I don't really do a whole lot of it.
And then there's the writing. You know what I like least about writing?
Writing.
I like the end product, and sometimes, I love the process of creating characters and plots... and sometimes, my fingers are on fire and I can tap or scribble out these sentences that seem to be pure gold.
But lately, I... well, I wouldn't say I actually resent it. But I avoid it. And that makes me a bit sad, because it always seemed like part of my identity (without sounding too much of the aforementioned self-indulgent). Recently, I find it hard to sit down and finish stuff. I sabotage stories when I've worked on them for days, telling myself they're stupid and the characters are hollow and that everything is predictable or fake and inauthentic. I admire others' work but then don't want to put the hours into my own.
It all makes me wonder, is this just something that is a hobby and nothing more? And if so, then obviously again with the self-indulgence. And if it's not just a hobby, when will I get serious about it? I want to blame my children (in a good way, you understand, because they do need me around a lot right now) and at the same time, I want to kick myself for not having the commitment, because people have written masterpieces while, oh, I don't know, serving time in a gulag and being a wet nurse to triplets. And I'm not saying that I'm ever going to write a masterpiece, either. But I feel as if I am really struggling to get anything 'real' down on paper, and I don't know if what I do is worth struggling for, you know? Because it seems that you're either really good, and you make it work, or you BELIEVE you're good enough, and you make it work. And I can't seem to see myself as either of those things.
Bah, crises of faith. Getting through them is the key, I suppose. Right now I just feel as if I'm about eight years old and playing in the sandpit.
I just don't feel as if I'm really 'allowed' to take it so seriously. As if there needs to be some threshold you have to cross, or number of publications you need to reach. For me, it seems so self-indulgent to call myself a writer, when I don't really do a whole lot of it.
And then there's the writing. You know what I like least about writing?
Writing.
I like the end product, and sometimes, I love the process of creating characters and plots... and sometimes, my fingers are on fire and I can tap or scribble out these sentences that seem to be pure gold.
But lately, I... well, I wouldn't say I actually resent it. But I avoid it. And that makes me a bit sad, because it always seemed like part of my identity (without sounding too much of the aforementioned self-indulgent). Recently, I find it hard to sit down and finish stuff. I sabotage stories when I've worked on them for days, telling myself they're stupid and the characters are hollow and that everything is predictable or fake and inauthentic. I admire others' work but then don't want to put the hours into my own.
It all makes me wonder, is this just something that is a hobby and nothing more? And if so, then obviously again with the self-indulgence. And if it's not just a hobby, when will I get serious about it? I want to blame my children (in a good way, you understand, because they do need me around a lot right now) and at the same time, I want to kick myself for not having the commitment, because people have written masterpieces while, oh, I don't know, serving time in a gulag and being a wet nurse to triplets. And I'm not saying that I'm ever going to write a masterpiece, either. But I feel as if I am really struggling to get anything 'real' down on paper, and I don't know if what I do is worth struggling for, you know? Because it seems that you're either really good, and you make it work, or you BELIEVE you're good enough, and you make it work. And I can't seem to see myself as either of those things.
Bah, crises of faith. Getting through them is the key, I suppose. Right now I just feel as if I'm about eight years old and playing in the sandpit.