It might seem strange to talk about why the previous two blogs I’ve started haven’t worked out. I’m hoping that maybe talking about the elephant in the room might help.
The truth is I want to write. Most days I’m plagued with ideas for what else I could say in this type of setting. On days when I’m not mentally blogging, I have story ideas running through my head. Some of them even seem to be pretty good.
What will happen is I’ll get this idea. I’ll marinate on it for weeks, sometimes longer. I’ll think of character names and get a brief story sketch going. I’ll think about whom the characters will be to one another; perhaps even how they’ll interact with each other in certain circumstances. I’ll get so excited about this story that the next logical step, is to start writing it.
So, I’ll sit down at my computer… and check my email. Maybe I’ll do some internet surfing, or clean up my desktop. Eventually I’ll finally get around to opening Microsoft Word. But this could be days later. All the other distractions usually keep me occupied until it’s too late at night to start a new project. You have to understand, when I write something, I don’t just write it down. For even something as simple as a letter, I’ll write it and then go back over it several times before deciding it’s ready to go. It usually takes me hours to write anything. Which is kind of sad… but I digress.
After I get to the point of finally opening Microsoft Word, I have a blank document staring at me. Normally this will be true for quite a while. I’m terrible at starting a story. You see, by the time I actually get to the writing portion of this exercise, I sometimes already know how the story will end. How do you start telling it when you know the conclusion? Anybody who has heard me tell a story verbally knows that I generally talk in circles. It’s a wonder I can be understood at all, let alone on paper!
The paper is blank. I have to sit there and think about the story and where it should begin. This could take hours. Finally I might convince myself to just start. Anywhere. It doesn’t really matter, because I can always go back and fix it later. I know that if I don’t get something started though, nothing will get written.
Now I have something. I have no idea if it’s good at this point. I know that it doesn’t matter. I’ll write for a little while, maybe getting a page or two done. I usually have to tell myself to just keep going. Don’t stop writing for a while. It will be there to fix later. I know that if I stop mid stride, I might not get going again.
After I’ve gotten the page or two done, I’m pleased with my progress, so I’ll read back over what I’ve written. (This is what makes this process take hours.) I’ll fix the mistakes I see or the parts that are awkward will get rewritten. I’ll read over this one section three to four times, normally. By now, it’s starting to get late, so I have to go to bed. But so far, I’m happy with what I’ve gotten done. It’s probably not much at all. Maybe it’s a scene that doesn’t happen at the beginning of the story. Maybe it’s some character introduction or development. All I know is, that night; I will go to bed happy. I have started on the story I’ve been thinking about.
The next night, I’ll be busy, so won’t get anything written. The night after that, I had emails to respond to or some research to get done, so didn’t have time to write. The following night, I’ll sit down and read what I have previously written and not know where I wanted to go with the story at that point. Sometimes I’ll just start another scene with the hopes of bringing the two together later. If that’s the case, the same process above will repeat.
But by the fourth or fifth night of not writing anything more, I will get depressed about the story and shelve it for a while. Or I’ll slowly begin to realize that my story probably wouldn’t go anywhere anyway, so why am I writing it? Nobody is going to care about what I have to say. On the flip side of that thought, I’ll think about all the books I’ve read that were really terrible, so think I might have a chance after all. But by now, I’m typically beyond the point of continuing. It’s the “nobody’s listening” idea that digs itself in deepest.
In the case of blogging, I’ve been able to take it a little bit further. I’ve noticed that I’ll write occasionally for a month or so. I think blogging is more prone to longevity (used lightly) because at least the topics are varied. I don’t usually get stuck in the same vein for too long. I know with the second blog I worked on, I had a main theme to focus on: the trip that I took. But the stories everyday would have been different. So, maybe that one would have held on for longer, if the depression hadn’t set in. I still have all the pictures, and all the stories. I could still continue that one. But I know that nobody is reading what I’m writing.
That is the part that I know I have to get past. If something is meant to be said, if it needs to be said, then it should be said whether or not anyone is reading it right now. I need to realize that I have a voice. I need to figure out how to use it again. If I don’t, I will always be THAT girl. The one who had dreams but never quite reached out far enough to see them realized. I don’t want to be her. I don’t want to remain stuck where I have been for so long; waiting on the day when someone else will see my potential and will rescue me from the doldrums I’ve been stuck in. Ya know, if you don’t put anything out there, there will be no potential to see.
The truth is I want to write. Most days I’m plagued with ideas for what else I could say in this type of setting. On days when I’m not mentally blogging, I have story ideas running through my head. Some of them even seem to be pretty good.
What will happen is I’ll get this idea. I’ll marinate on it for weeks, sometimes longer. I’ll think of character names and get a brief story sketch going. I’ll think about whom the characters will be to one another; perhaps even how they’ll interact with each other in certain circumstances. I’ll get so excited about this story that the next logical step, is to start writing it.
So, I’ll sit down at my computer… and check my email. Maybe I’ll do some internet surfing, or clean up my desktop. Eventually I’ll finally get around to opening Microsoft Word. But this could be days later. All the other distractions usually keep me occupied until it’s too late at night to start a new project. You have to understand, when I write something, I don’t just write it down. For even something as simple as a letter, I’ll write it and then go back over it several times before deciding it’s ready to go. It usually takes me hours to write anything. Which is kind of sad… but I digress.
After I get to the point of finally opening Microsoft Word, I have a blank document staring at me. Normally this will be true for quite a while. I’m terrible at starting a story. You see, by the time I actually get to the writing portion of this exercise, I sometimes already know how the story will end. How do you start telling it when you know the conclusion? Anybody who has heard me tell a story verbally knows that I generally talk in circles. It’s a wonder I can be understood at all, let alone on paper!
The paper is blank. I have to sit there and think about the story and where it should begin. This could take hours. Finally I might convince myself to just start. Anywhere. It doesn’t really matter, because I can always go back and fix it later. I know that if I don’t get something started though, nothing will get written.
Now I have something. I have no idea if it’s good at this point. I know that it doesn’t matter. I’ll write for a little while, maybe getting a page or two done. I usually have to tell myself to just keep going. Don’t stop writing for a while. It will be there to fix later. I know that if I stop mid stride, I might not get going again.
After I’ve gotten the page or two done, I’m pleased with my progress, so I’ll read back over what I’ve written. (This is what makes this process take hours.) I’ll fix the mistakes I see or the parts that are awkward will get rewritten. I’ll read over this one section three to four times, normally. By now, it’s starting to get late, so I have to go to bed. But so far, I’m happy with what I’ve gotten done. It’s probably not much at all. Maybe it’s a scene that doesn’t happen at the beginning of the story. Maybe it’s some character introduction or development. All I know is, that night; I will go to bed happy. I have started on the story I’ve been thinking about.
The next night, I’ll be busy, so won’t get anything written. The night after that, I had emails to respond to or some research to get done, so didn’t have time to write. The following night, I’ll sit down and read what I have previously written and not know where I wanted to go with the story at that point. Sometimes I’ll just start another scene with the hopes of bringing the two together later. If that’s the case, the same process above will repeat.
But by the fourth or fifth night of not writing anything more, I will get depressed about the story and shelve it for a while. Or I’ll slowly begin to realize that my story probably wouldn’t go anywhere anyway, so why am I writing it? Nobody is going to care about what I have to say. On the flip side of that thought, I’ll think about all the books I’ve read that were really terrible, so think I might have a chance after all. But by now, I’m typically beyond the point of continuing. It’s the “nobody’s listening” idea that digs itself in deepest.
In the case of blogging, I’ve been able to take it a little bit further. I’ve noticed that I’ll write occasionally for a month or so. I think blogging is more prone to longevity (used lightly) because at least the topics are varied. I don’t usually get stuck in the same vein for too long. I know with the second blog I worked on, I had a main theme to focus on: the trip that I took. But the stories everyday would have been different. So, maybe that one would have held on for longer, if the depression hadn’t set in. I still have all the pictures, and all the stories. I could still continue that one. But I know that nobody is reading what I’m writing.
That is the part that I know I have to get past. If something is meant to be said, if it needs to be said, then it should be said whether or not anyone is reading it right now. I need to realize that I have a voice. I need to figure out how to use it again. If I don’t, I will always be THAT girl. The one who had dreams but never quite reached out far enough to see them realized. I don’t want to be her. I don’t want to remain stuck where I have been for so long; waiting on the day when someone else will see my potential and will rescue me from the doldrums I’ve been stuck in. Ya know, if you don’t put anything out there, there will be no potential to see.
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