ph34r

20 Aug

Writing scares me.

I have these ideas, you see.  (Well.  More like questions, actually.  I have questions that I need answered.)  Ideas that intimidate me because there is no way that what I write can ever be what I see.  Y’know?

I was reading The Writer the other day and it mentions (as do others) that this is a common problem.  One of those writer’s block issues: the voices in your head won’t stfu, but when you sit down to write nothing comes out.  They mention that this is the perfect time for the nonsensical “first thoughts” writing just to get the garbage out, before moving on to something a bit more substantial.  Good idea.  (I think that’s why I blog, akshully.)

Still.  Writing scares me.

(This is where things get a bit emo.)

It’s failure.  I don’t like it.  I don’t want to do it.  I’m so jazzed by the idea of writing and I lovelovelove doing it – I love that work-out feeling I get afterwards (I’ve never run a marathon, but I expect it’s akin to that feeling of OMGIRTEHAWESUM).  I have no career aspirations, folks.  I’d love to have a job wherein I make a bit more than $10/hr and have some health benefits, but it doesn’t really bother me that much not to have it.  Writing is what I want to do, but I avoid it like the plague.  Writing is what I enjoy, but I find myself baking cookies and cleaning toilets rather than slinging ink.  Weird, right?  The sheer enjoyment of the Art is worth considerably more than it’s end game (publishing) is, imo.  (Of course, it would be pretty nifty to have an ISBN.)  Writing is the career I choose.  Not to pay the bills (’cause we all know that’s just silly), but the career that makes me happy (and/or suicidal, depending on the day).

Hm.

I have a new goal.  Curious?  I used to joke about wanting to be Stephen King, which basically meant that I think it would be awesome to be able to quit my day job and have a lucrative writing career.  I have decided to lower my expectations and allow myself to be a bit more titillated by the ecstasy of writing.  I have decided that my new goal in life (yes.  This is it.  This is my whole life’s goal, right here) is to produce a short story that will appear in an anthology containing a work of Charles de Lint and/or Neil Gaiman (the and is preferred, but not necessary).  I would be over the freaking moon.

In other news: I sent my registration form, and fee, for the 3-Day Novel Contest out today.  Whether I want to, or not, I will be writing very shortly.  (It’s a great kick-start, I think.  And C is right, if I actually pay to do this and not just use it as a personal challenge, I am much more likely to strive to complete it with everything I am.  I’m a cheap Scot, I won’t waste that coin.)

Hoobastank – Can I Buy You A Drink?

UNT.

Advertisements

2 Responses to “ph34r”

  1. C August 20, 2010 at 10:10 pm #

    Good on you for having the courage to sign up! And I agree, mephy should take you out to dinner afterwards to celebrate!

    • vyxen August 20, 2010 at 10:21 pm #

      Hellz yes he should! 🙂 This is two to one. He loses. I will even concede and go to Thanh Vu if that’s what it takes. Hah.

      Thanks C! Don’t get too encouraging, or supportive, though . . . I might make you read it when I’m done. 😉

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: