Sitting here writing should be doing something else, and I have been attempting to push myself but so far falling flat. I don’t like my writing and I want to get better. So I have been reading other blogs that I like, hoping that all that talent will somehow soak into me and I will know what I am doing and submit something worth the time it takes to click and scan through. And once again setting my timer. I have for the first time started attempting short stories. I can never seem to finish what I started though and the beginning of stories is starting to pile up, all with no endings. Never an ending in sight, reminds me of a man in a desert hoping to get just a drop of water. But this is a draught and there is no lucky breaks.
I have read a lot lately. And still I don’t feel like I am seeing it come out in my writing. And I am thinking well of course not, because it takes more than that, I also have to be writing. (I am restaining myself from putting in exclamation points and often I feel very proud for that restraint, but this sentence misses it, so that last part to yourself in a scream.) I also have to be writing.
I listening to something fast paced as I write. I have no idea what that is doing to my writing. It will have to be something I experiment with.
I want to believe I can be a good writer because I am bad at so many other things. The real reason is I don’t like to push myself and mediocre is the acceptable resting place for me.
My children have just come up to me and I have lost any train of thought I had. I guess self loathing never does run dry so I pretty easily could pick up where I left off. I am not sure about my seven year old telling my three year old there are monsters hiding in the walls. Though he is giggling. Fun now, hopefully not a problem later.
But I digress. What is writing? What is the magic formula of words that make a good story happen? How to make the character, the plot, setting, villain, word choice flow? I think of writers as walking geniuses carrying within this ability to balance so many elements together and bringing it on the page in a way another person can read and get something from.
As I said I should not be writing. I am supposed to be cleaning for a get together tomorrow. I have been cleaning but I stopped to think and try again to express myself, hoping to have figured out that magic formula that so many others have learned. I think I am more just drifting in on the page rather than making any definite statements, maybe like one of those spectres. I’m a ghost of the blogs, hanging at other blogs reading and reading and trying to figure out what I am supposed to be doing.