(no subject)
"[Upon death] I'm so sure you'll get asked only two questions. Were most of your stars out? Were you busy writing your heart out? If only you knew how easy it would be for you to say yes to both questions. If only you'd remember before ever you sit down to write that you've been a reader long before you were ever a writer. You simply fix that fact in your mind, then sit very still and ask yourself, as a reader, what piece of writing in all the world Buddy Glass would most want to read if he had his heart's choice. The next step is terrible, but so simple I can hardly believe it as I write it. You just sit down shamelessly and write the thing yourself. I won't even underline that. It's too important to be underlined. Oh, Buddy, dare to do it! Trust your heart. You're a deserving craftsman. It would never betray you." - JD Salinger.
I have been so blocked lately. SO blocked. It's not that I can't write, I just can't capture what I feel. I haven't worked on my novel in over a week, and the last time I sat down to write I only got about three sentences out. I stared at my computer screen for hours and hours, and I got nothing. I'm frustrated, to say the least.
Sometimes I don't even know why I'm bothering with this. I don't know what my chances of getting published are. I don't know much of anything other than that it's the only thing that makes me feel safe, and I have to try.
I just need to find my muse, my yellow bird.
Stop following. Stop chasing. Stop doing a lot of things, Kelly. People don't like the way you act. People don't like your laugh. People don't like how you get excited over silly things. And people are all you have.
I used to write for three hours a day or else I couldn't sleep at night. But I haven't seriously written, other than in this journal, for a while now. Maybe that's linked to my insomnia. My eyes are forcing themselves open, hands tracing the blank air. I'm not a good writer. I'm not a good anything. This isn't me bringing myself down its just the motivation I have, which is none. I just don't understand what all the fuss is about. I don't understand a lot of things.
(I have to please and please and please). I cannot allow myself to grow miserable or unhappy. All my energy is being drained out of fingers and toe and its fallen into a bed of sleep right under my friends. I can't take a step forward without wishing I could take a step into the past.
I am happy though. Really happy. The bouncing, jumping, jiving, loving, giddy, uplifting kind of happy.
I have been so blocked lately. SO blocked. It's not that I can't write, I just can't capture what I feel. I haven't worked on my novel in over a week, and the last time I sat down to write I only got about three sentences out. I stared at my computer screen for hours and hours, and I got nothing. I'm frustrated, to say the least.
Sometimes I don't even know why I'm bothering with this. I don't know what my chances of getting published are. I don't know much of anything other than that it's the only thing that makes me feel safe, and I have to try.
I just need to find my muse, my yellow bird.
Stop following. Stop chasing. Stop doing a lot of things, Kelly. People don't like the way you act. People don't like your laugh. People don't like how you get excited over silly things. And people are all you have.
I used to write for three hours a day or else I couldn't sleep at night. But I haven't seriously written, other than in this journal, for a while now. Maybe that's linked to my insomnia. My eyes are forcing themselves open, hands tracing the blank air. I'm not a good writer. I'm not a good anything. This isn't me bringing myself down its just the motivation I have, which is none. I just don't understand what all the fuss is about. I don't understand a lot of things.
(I have to please and please and please). I cannot allow myself to grow miserable or unhappy. All my energy is being drained out of fingers and toe and its fallen into a bed of sleep right under my friends. I can't take a step forward without wishing I could take a step into the past.
I am happy though. Really happy. The bouncing, jumping, jiving, loving, giddy, uplifting kind of happy.