The anxious post.
Ye gods, I will be a complete wreck by the time that this course will be over. Or so it feels at the moment, anyway. There is no doubt that it is far more exhausting than the literature course I took last term (then again, it probably helped then that I am a very quick reader). I have - finally - finished a literary essay, and done the first of three exams. The following two will be on Friday and Tuesday, after which I get a few weeks of rest. Except that when looking at what we still have in front of us until the end of May when the course ends, it seems as though I won't get any rest whatsoever for over two months. -_-
This aforementioned essay - it's not an extremely long one, but long enough for me to have lost a few nights of sleep over it, at best getting a few hours of sleep when I've collapsed from fatigue in the afternoon. Even when I know what to write, putting it into sentences and onto paper is an ordeal, especially when it's something that I don't particularly enjoy writing. Sure, part of the problem is because of procrastination. But many times I find I have just been staring at the screen for half an hour, trying to find out what I'm going to say next.
(It doesn't help either that I can be ridiculously pedantic about some things, writing being one of them. Even if I can see that the teacher would be content with something, I won't let it out of my hands until it's good enough for me.)
We have at least four more essays of this scale to hand in towards the end of term, some lesser things, plus the running assignments. Only one more exam, but the exams are the easy part. It particularly annoys me knowing that a few of these essays are stuff that I would actually enjoy writing about if I could do it on my own terms: especially the report paper which I will have to think of a better title for than 'Reading the Future: Predictions in Science Fiction', the book report on American Gods, and maybe the new literary essay. But as it is it will most likely all result in severe heartburn and twisted sleeping patterns. Again. *sigh*
There's a Douglas Adams quote that has stuck with me:
'The art of writing is to stare at a blank piece of paper until your forehead bleeds.'
That sums it up rather nicely, I'd say. I always get ideas that's just begging me to put them on paper (well, on the screen anyway), I love to make up stories in my head, and I can put together sentences rather well if I make an effort. But, well, the process of writing is just so strenuous, and when I do get some free time from studying I would rather do something that actually allows for me to relax. I doubt that anything not related to school will be written by me before June. Pity, as I have a really pretty plot piglet chewing on my brain right now.
Actually, the more I think about Douglas Adams, the more encouraged I get. He claimed to hate writing, and just look at what he did. <3
What the hell, I could try to view these following couple of months as some kind of writers boot camp. It won't be pleasant, but if I do manage to produce all the necessary assignments on time I must have learnt something about writing and self-discipline.
I appear to have contracted some kind of boil on my head. Nothing huge, but painful nonetheless. X(
40.476190476190474% of me is a huge nerd! How about you?
*grin*