Some things have to be said. Not in an upbeat way, nor in a method as if lecturing a group of new students. Somethings require airing not as a rallying call or a rousing appeal to follow things’ my way and all will be well’.
Some things need to be warned about.
If a writer doesn’t go through the following experience they are either very lucky, blessed, not telling the truth, or not writing properly.
Of course I am writing about those dread episodes when everything seems either pointless, hopeless or fearful. (The latter turns up after success and the writer fears they will never better that).
These demons come in various forms; for instance either in a slough of grey despondency when even opening the cover of the laptop seems to be a supreme effort, OR the sharp pain when you happen to spy someone else’s (never mind who) success which appears to you to have come out of thin air (being in this state of mind you are of course not being the least bit rational). There are of course other variations on this theme. All coalesce into these similar themes
I can’t write (sometimes this has ‘anymore’ added on)
Why do I bother writing?
In such wretched countries the last things you want to come across would be either
A cheery rallying call to never mind all will be well in time (‘Are we talking centuries here?’ You ask)
A bright and peppy post telling you how to get on and get yourself noticed AND how serious a business marketing is ( At the first juncture you have a sarcastic image of yourself dancing frenetically on a high building hurling copies of your work at the folk down below while crying out ‘At least read the damn thing!’; at the second juncture you either are so scared at the seemingly hopeless prospect that you hide under a table OR as snarling at the writer’s post you make it known you have been doing this and do they think you a drivelling idiot- by now you usually are drivelling, though in frustrated rage).
By some monumental effort of charity and spirit you do not lower yourself to the gutter by being spiteful at anyone who has posted up their first success, you manage a ‘like’ and maybe if you’ve got your favourite brew just write (sic) you squeeze out a ‘Well done you’ because despite everything you are feeling you actually mean it, only you wish some of that would come your way.
It has to be acknowledged, said, enunciated, lamented and admitted that in general for the vast majority of writers of blogs, tweets, stories, novels, factual works and any permutation the odds are stacked heavily against you. The mixed blessing which is the Internet has enabled many folk to be able to put the electronic version of pen to paper. In fact I wonder if writers out-number those who read but don’t write in any form. Thus amongst this oceans of talent, polluted by sewerage of hack-writers, hate merchants and fabricators is anyone going to notice you little wave or splash?
‘Ah me,’ you say sadly, or something of the general equivalent.
At this stage some folk say ‘Writing is not for me. Anyway I have been wanting to do….’ Whatever it might, and away they go to do whatever and feel released of the weight and live happier lives. Which is a perfectly sensible approach. It’s much better to have tried and say, ‘I have been there’, than to ponder of ‘What might have been’
As for the rest of us. Us who cannot let go of the urge to Write, who feel restless and unsettled unless words are being put to paper or the electronic equivalent. Us who despite all previous past evidence simply will not let go and opt to carry on despite the fact of feeling sorrowful and wondering if there will ever come a day when we can rise at the sunny dawn and with light breakfast and a gladsome heart pen another contribution for a waiting public.
If you count yourself amongst these serried ranks you must evident be A Writer. The creative urge runs deep within your blood, stirs as part of your spirit, roams your restless mind and simply will not let you go. Irrespective of the results or lack of them you will forge on for one more effort. You are determined, in a dogged way. You believe you have something to say and will not be stifled. It is how you are. You are fated to be this way. You will not let go.
There are some lesser mortals who mask their soulless ways by applying what they delude themselves as being wise and witty words such as ‘Every person as a book inside of them and in most cases that is where it should stay’ or ‘Insanity is trying the same thing over again and expecting different results’. These dry and vapid folk know nothing of the ceaseless urge to create and are to be ignored, pitied or simply sneered at. Their cousins ‘Though Who Would Be A Critic’ and have never tried to write anything other than what they may consider ‘harsh truth’ are equally pointless in their efforts. Between them and their professional mentors these folk have done more to stifle creativity down the ages than even the strictest of authoritarian regimes. Ignore them all. True it is not easy. Ask any writer who has actually broken the barrier you yearn to and sits in the public domain.
So back to you, unknown, doubtful and weary.
You will sigh, you will feel dispirited, you might not produce anything for weeks.
And then the urge starts up again and once more the words started to bubble up, from deep within, the writing begins again. You are drawn out of your comfy little retreat.
You would wish it could be a lot easier, less painful, more hopeful.
But you cannot, will not stop.
Not you The Writer.
One day you may break through, even in a small way and for you this would be a happy time.
And I will celebrate for you.
Until then as you must slouch on, movement is progress.
Accept this is the way you are; it makes you an individual.
Never take your pain and frustrations out on other writers, it is beneath you.
Continue to write and never destroy your work for you never know who the Ages will view you.
Always Write. For it is in your nature.