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A Writer's Journal: Entry I
I wish I could remember how to write in a journal. But I barely know how to write as the fictional characters in my stories, let alone myself anymore these days. I actually am unsure of who I am anymore. I mean I know that I am still me after all but even as I write this-- It doesn't feel like I'm narrating it. Maybe someone else is writing in my voice these days-- Oh well who knows?
"Why don't we take a break from the story?"
Break?
He acts like I've been writing nonstop for the past five days and nights, I've written a single chapter two days ago and I've been going through another spell of writer's block since. Why don't they understand? I know that both my boyfriend and mother have read books, my mother more than my beloved Andrew but still. . . Don't they know that the characters in books never have down time-- They never have a dull moment, it's why they were invented to bend to the will of my imagination, to entertain a reader's mind. Their problems and lives are always in a constant motion, and they are never stopped because the moment it stops is the moment the story gets boring.
Number 1 Rule: Do not write something that you wouldn't read yourself.
If I wouldn't read something I wrote then I'm not gonna write it. How am I suppose to be proud of something if I wouldn't read it? And if I'm never gonna read it, then what's the point of writing?
I remember I use to have a paranoia of throwing pieces of paper away, especially if the piece of paper had part of a story, or journal entry or poem on it. I always afraid of someone reading it and knowing-- Knowing what?
I'm not sure, that's probably why it's called "paranoia" after all. But in the same way I cannot part with any of the drafts in my stories, because what if I wrote something down in there that I'll need at a later date in the story. If I get rid of it, I won't have it and if I don't remember it then it'll be gone forever. And so I always keep my drafts, if I ever delete a draft it's because I will never use what was on it and even then I still feel a piece of myself die with that deleted document.
I think I'm in a depression.
Yes definately-- This is definately a depression, if I've never known one. I write less, I'm over sensitive, I can sit and read whatever or play whatever-- Anything to keep my mind off of writing, because writing is work. When I get into a story seriously I shut everyone out and work, work, work-- I will someday be a workaholic but I also won't have any friends, my son won't have a relationship with me and I might've gone through a divorce and probably wouldn't even noticed. I hate reality, especially when it's compared to more stories. It's why I write so that I don't have to deal with reality so don't put your reality into my fantasy-- It ruins it for me.
I need the escape of my stories.
Of other people's problems, problems that are in constant motion along with lives that go somewhere and do something. My characters can go to school and they will eventually graduate, I did not and so I will live through them and their lives. Their amazing, horrible, constantly moving lives, the lives that I gave them that have horrible baggage attached but at the same time a wonderful story to be told. These characters were created with problems that will eventually be solved giving them all (or most of them) a happy ending.
I just need to get out of these bouts of depression, these sad spells that drag me down into darkness. I hate the darkness, my dreams make my sense and I feel as though I'm in a constant daze.
I'm drawing again and this book is interesting but my stories are suffering because of my lack of interest and ambition. I want to write, because I know I can-- The few chapters of this fourth book in this saga of tales I've been proud of, finally-- After so many tries beforehand. Now everything is making sense and I'm pacing myself and taking my time and everything is making sense but my characters are boring and annoying and. . . I don't even know anymore.
My boyfriend finds cheats to make the bosses in his video games easier to "farm" as he calls it. Why can't I find a cheat to making chapters easier to write?
If only I had an answer to that question.
- Paige Rider
"Why don't we take a break from the story?"
Break?
He acts like I've been writing nonstop for the past five days and nights, I've written a single chapter two days ago and I've been going through another spell of writer's block since. Why don't they understand? I know that both my boyfriend and mother have read books, my mother more than my beloved Andrew but still. . . Don't they know that the characters in books never have down time-- They never have a dull moment, it's why they were invented to bend to the will of my imagination, to entertain a reader's mind. Their problems and lives are always in a constant motion, and they are never stopped because the moment it stops is the moment the story gets boring.
Number 1 Rule: Do not write something that you wouldn't read yourself.
If I wouldn't read something I wrote then I'm not gonna write it. How am I suppose to be proud of something if I wouldn't read it? And if I'm never gonna read it, then what's the point of writing?
I remember I use to have a paranoia of throwing pieces of paper away, especially if the piece of paper had part of a story, or journal entry or poem on it. I always afraid of someone reading it and knowing-- Knowing what?
I'm not sure, that's probably why it's called "paranoia" after all. But in the same way I cannot part with any of the drafts in my stories, because what if I wrote something down in there that I'll need at a later date in the story. If I get rid of it, I won't have it and if I don't remember it then it'll be gone forever. And so I always keep my drafts, if I ever delete a draft it's because I will never use what was on it and even then I still feel a piece of myself die with that deleted document.
I think I'm in a depression.
Yes definately-- This is definately a depression, if I've never known one. I write less, I'm over sensitive, I can sit and read whatever or play whatever-- Anything to keep my mind off of writing, because writing is work. When I get into a story seriously I shut everyone out and work, work, work-- I will someday be a workaholic but I also won't have any friends, my son won't have a relationship with me and I might've gone through a divorce and probably wouldn't even noticed. I hate reality, especially when it's compared to more stories. It's why I write so that I don't have to deal with reality so don't put your reality into my fantasy-- It ruins it for me.
I need the escape of my stories.
Of other people's problems, problems that are in constant motion along with lives that go somewhere and do something. My characters can go to school and they will eventually graduate, I did not and so I will live through them and their lives. Their amazing, horrible, constantly moving lives, the lives that I gave them that have horrible baggage attached but at the same time a wonderful story to be told. These characters were created with problems that will eventually be solved giving them all (or most of them) a happy ending.
I just need to get out of these bouts of depression, these sad spells that drag me down into darkness. I hate the darkness, my dreams make my sense and I feel as though I'm in a constant daze.
I'm drawing again and this book is interesting but my stories are suffering because of my lack of interest and ambition. I want to write, because I know I can-- The few chapters of this fourth book in this saga of tales I've been proud of, finally-- After so many tries beforehand. Now everything is making sense and I'm pacing myself and taking my time and everything is making sense but my characters are boring and annoying and. . . I don't even know anymore.
My boyfriend finds cheats to make the bosses in his video games easier to "farm" as he calls it. Why can't I find a cheat to making chapters easier to write?
If only I had an answer to that question.
- Paige Rider
Published 20th May 2014
| Edited 15th Sep 2017
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