#reverb10 - Writing Distractions
Prompt: Writing. What do you do each day that doesn't contribute to your writing -- and can you eliminate it?
I could trot out the usual suspects, I suppose. TV, too much surfing the intertubes, daydreaming, naval gazing and other various and sundry time sucks. However, the biggest thing I do that doesn't contribute to my writing is not writing.
Yesterday, I talked about how I had filled three Moleskinne notebooks during 2009. I failed to mention that I am still on the first and so far only notebook for 2010. I wallowed in some form of self-pity or denial because "The Gift" was gone. It wasn't easy, it didn't flow, it was hard.
Damn right it was hard. Creating is hard. Painting pictures is hard, sculpting is hard, writing is hard. Particularly when you care about the results, and have read the work of others and know or have an idea what good writing is. That makes it hard. Because no matter what any writer tells you, we all compare our output against the work of others. It's a barometer of sorts. Any writer that tells you they don't is either illiterate and doesn't read anything at all (which makes them a fool) or is lying to you and themselves.
So, once again, I return to the help the 750words.com has given me. It provides a platform and space to write. It doesn't have to be good, but I work on making it the best I can for first draft writing. Even when I'm just spazzing and slaying electrons with angsty fuck you's and woe to me's and life sucks and then you die-isms. If I'm going to whine in writing, I should whine in the best way I can. Namely: clearly & cogently. Straight and to the point whining is the finest kind of self-pity there is.
In order to get over the not writing is to pressure myself to sit my ass in my chair and write. To pull out the little notebook and jot down notes when they show up in my brain, and then DO something with them. Inertia is a sonuvabitch and it's comfortable. I have realized in the past year that you don't accomplish a damn thing sitting around wishing in one hand and shitting in the other. Because, as time passes, you've got one hand much fuller than the other. Lemme tell ya, shit stinks. So get your ass in your chair and do it.
Or you'll be haulin' some shit with ya. That, and broken dreams.
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Part of a series of reflection and manifestation (sounds like a comic book origin, doesn't it?) that is part of #reverb10
I could trot out the usual suspects, I suppose. TV, too much surfing the intertubes, daydreaming, naval gazing and other various and sundry time sucks. However, the biggest thing I do that doesn't contribute to my writing is not writing.
Yesterday, I talked about how I had filled three Moleskinne notebooks during 2009. I failed to mention that I am still on the first and so far only notebook for 2010. I wallowed in some form of self-pity or denial because "The Gift" was gone. It wasn't easy, it didn't flow, it was hard.
Damn right it was hard. Creating is hard. Painting pictures is hard, sculpting is hard, writing is hard. Particularly when you care about the results, and have read the work of others and know or have an idea what good writing is. That makes it hard. Because no matter what any writer tells you, we all compare our output against the work of others. It's a barometer of sorts. Any writer that tells you they don't is either illiterate and doesn't read anything at all (which makes them a fool) or is lying to you and themselves.
So, once again, I return to the help the 750words.com has given me. It provides a platform and space to write. It doesn't have to be good, but I work on making it the best I can for first draft writing. Even when I'm just spazzing and slaying electrons with angsty fuck you's and woe to me's and life sucks and then you die-isms. If I'm going to whine in writing, I should whine in the best way I can. Namely: clearly & cogently. Straight and to the point whining is the finest kind of self-pity there is.
In order to get over the not writing is to pressure myself to sit my ass in my chair and write. To pull out the little notebook and jot down notes when they show up in my brain, and then DO something with them. Inertia is a sonuvabitch and it's comfortable. I have realized in the past year that you don't accomplish a damn thing sitting around wishing in one hand and shitting in the other. Because, as time passes, you've got one hand much fuller than the other. Lemme tell ya, shit stinks. So get your ass in your chair and do it.
Or you'll be haulin' some shit with ya. That, and broken dreams.
-----------------------------
Part of a series of reflection and manifestation (sounds like a comic book origin, doesn't it?) that is part of #reverb10