To Write and Lose.
As is typical, this experiment didn't get very far very quickly. I have continued to think, but not to write.
This is another source of concern, really. I used to WRITE. A LOT. I relished writing in my two prior livejournals, for instance. It was once a sustained and long-term effort. I vividly remember saying, "no no, wait wait, I need to finish updating my livejournal" before leaving the house to spend time in the driveway. Fond memories.
I also used to update my former job, a place where I took free reign to do what I want when I wanted. Another vice.
I also used to write fanfiction. I should be clear here:
1) I had suspended a voracious reading habit for a couple of years until one day I revisited an extremely old fandom, one measured in age not only by the amount of time that had passed since I'd last enjoyed it, but by how far away in spirit I had come from the universe and the pairing.
(I always ship, another practically unexplainable phenomenon in my own personality, reserved for another entry)
I decided to revisit fanfiction, reading HET for the first time in years upon years. But I found the premise of a recent movie (the thing that had made me revisit) so heinous that I was forced into a reaction: I began to write.
I wrote with the power of the Muses themselves. It was epic. Having never written before I went from a newcomer to an award winner in the space of a year. It was a very small fandom, but I did contribute something real.
...and then STOPPED, not even 1/3 of the way through.
2) I haven't updated that story since 2009, but despite that have written hundreds of thousands of words of slash. One pairing primarily, and recently a second: Sherlock (BBC).
Stories upon stories. One was written during a bonafide nervous breakdown, a real, INSANE experience from my adult life. I wrote a quarter of a million words in 5 straight weeks. One story, straight through, with huge holes and plot problems that just poured out of me.
One morning, in the midst of not going to work for two weeks, I woke up AS one of my characters. In his head. I was him. For a few brief seconds after sleep.
But despite all that, too, I have never finished a story, and haven't published another word of anything.
It is absolutely agonizing. One day I was writing, and the next I wasn't. It seems I stepped into my own orgasm, and was only able to ride it back down a path I hadn't even climbed. It was over before it began, and now my attention span is so fragmented (and possibly damaged) that I fear I will never finish anything.
Including this entry.
This is another source of concern, really. I used to WRITE. A LOT. I relished writing in my two prior livejournals, for instance. It was once a sustained and long-term effort. I vividly remember saying, "no no, wait wait, I need to finish updating my livejournal" before leaving the house to spend time in the driveway. Fond memories.
I also used to update my former job, a place where I took free reign to do what I want when I wanted. Another vice.
I also used to write fanfiction. I should be clear here:
1) I had suspended a voracious reading habit for a couple of years until one day I revisited an extremely old fandom, one measured in age not only by the amount of time that had passed since I'd last enjoyed it, but by how far away in spirit I had come from the universe and the pairing.
(I always ship, another practically unexplainable phenomenon in my own personality, reserved for another entry)
I decided to revisit fanfiction, reading HET for the first time in years upon years. But I found the premise of a recent movie (the thing that had made me revisit) so heinous that I was forced into a reaction: I began to write.
I wrote with the power of the Muses themselves. It was epic. Having never written before I went from a newcomer to an award winner in the space of a year. It was a very small fandom, but I did contribute something real.
...and then STOPPED, not even 1/3 of the way through.
2) I haven't updated that story since 2009, but despite that have written hundreds of thousands of words of slash. One pairing primarily, and recently a second: Sherlock (BBC).
Stories upon stories. One was written during a bonafide nervous breakdown, a real, INSANE experience from my adult life. I wrote a quarter of a million words in 5 straight weeks. One story, straight through, with huge holes and plot problems that just poured out of me.
One morning, in the midst of not going to work for two weeks, I woke up AS one of my characters. In his head. I was him. For a few brief seconds after sleep.
But despite all that, too, I have never finished a story, and haven't published another word of anything.
It is absolutely agonizing. One day I was writing, and the next I wasn't. It seems I stepped into my own orgasm, and was only able to ride it back down a path I hadn't even climbed. It was over before it began, and now my attention span is so fragmented (and possibly damaged) that I fear I will never finish anything.
Including this entry.